Three Daves, Book 1: David, Sophomore Year by Elson Nicki

Author:Elson, Nicki [Elson, Nicki]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Omnific Publishing
Published: 2016-04-26T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6

Maria’s cousin Celia arrived at CIU in her shiny, ruby red Mazda. She was a tiny girl with a sculpted pouf of jet-black hair. Maria, Chris, and Jen fit their bags into trunk and climbed into the car. After they crossed the Illinois state line and their excited conversation died down, Jen settled in with her headphones and music. She decided to brave the new playlist from David. It had reappeared in her mailbox the day before, along with a new note:

I’m not going to let The Cure do the talking for me this time. This is just from me—I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was an idiot and that I hurt you. I wouldn’t blame you if you never talked to me again, but I miss you, and I hope someday you can forgive me and we can be friends again. Chris told me you’re all heading down to Daytona, so here’s something to keep you company on the ride down. ~David

Jen pressed play but kept her fingertip on the skip button in case she couldn’t handle “Boys Don’t Cry” again. But that’s not what she heard. Instead of choking up at Robert Smith’s melancholy lament, she cracked up at Run DMC’s playful rapping in “It’s Tricky.” She started laughing even harder when that song was followed by Beastie Boys’ “Girls.” David had made her an entirely new retro mix of fun, happy, spring-breaky songs. She was sure these selections weren’t from his personal collection. His music was never this silly and upbeat. He’d done extra work for this playlist and had even gone against his snooty musical principles. For the first time in months, Jen thought maybe she didn’t want to hate him anymore.

Thirty playlists, five incomplete crossword puzzles, and several restless cat-naps later, the sporty red car pulled into the parking lot of a shabby, two-story motel on Daytona Beach. This was the Pink Oyster, a hotel they’d secured in a deal through Celia’s community college rather than choosing one that would be crawling with other CIU students. As Maria had explained it, “This way, we’ve got no CIU spies to report back.”

The girls stepped out of the car onto a steamy, rain-damp parking lot and stretched their cramped legs. After Celia checked them in, they lugged their bags into a first-floor room just off the pool. Rather than succumb to their fatigue, they immediately stripped off their clothes, flung on their bikinis, and hit the beach. The sand was still heavy and wet. The musty smell of rain hung in the thick air under an overcast sky. The young revelers that crammed the beach weren’t deterred by the damp conditions. They donned sunglasses and rocked to the competing tunes that peppered the beach from hundreds of tiny speakers.

The girls spent the rest of the day lying on the beach, taking dips in the pool, and walking miles and miles up and down the sand to see where the action was. The bigger hotels along the strip

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