Blame It On the Beach

Chapter Nineteen

"God, it's so hot," Quinn complains once we step out of Finn's on Sunday after finishing our shift.

"Really? I think it's a little chilly, I was gonna get a sweater," I reply, rolling my eyes at her and fanning my face with my hand.

"I don't need your sass, Marshall," she says, and we both laugh as we start walking down the block.

"What should we do?" I ask, adjusting the straps on my black drawstring bag.

"Anything that takes place inside an air-conditioned facility," Quinn replies.

"Ooh, let's check out Claire's," I say, pointing to the small boutique across the street. "I want new earrings." Quinn nods, and we quickly cross the street and walk into the store, exhaling when the cool air hits us.

I'm flipping through the packs of cheap earring sets on a table, when Quinn walks over and nudges me. "Wanna get our ears pierced?" she asks.

I grin. "Yeah, good idea!" I exclaim. "I've been wanting to get my cartilage done."

We ask one of the salespeople where we can get them done, and she directs us to a room in the back. Quinn sits on the chair first, telling the woman that she wants two diamond studs; one as the third piercing on her right ear and the other as the second on her left. I take a video and put it on my Snap story, laughing at Quinn's cringe when the woman pierces her ears.

"How does it look?" Quinn asks, turning her head from side to side so I can see both ears. I give her a thumbs-up as I sit on the chair and tell the lady I also want a diamond stud on my cartilage.

I feel butterflies in my stomach as the woman preps my ear with an alcohol swab, and I grab Quinn's hand.

"What? Cartilage piercings hurt a lot," I say at her teasing look, and the woman smiles as she gets the ear-piercing gun.

"Just relax," she says, positioning it on my cartilage. "3,2,1..."

I inhale sharply at the harsh pinch in my ear, and then feel myself relax. "Alright, that wasn't terrible," I say, getting used to the sting.

We thank the woman after she tells us about the after-care for our piercings, and pay at the cashier at the front of the store.

Then we're back out in the humid air. "I really like the way the cartilage looks," Quinn says, looking at my ear.

I take out my camera and examine it. "Yeah, me too," I say, smiling. "This is exciting." We take a quick selfie with our new earrings, and continue walking down the block. We browse in a few other shops; I buy a tight black crop top from Brandy Melville, and Quinn gets a sparkly bikini top before we stop at a diner for lunch.

"Alright, tell me about Milo," Quinn says once we've ordered. "Any updates?"

"Other than the fact that I really like him?" I reply, resting my face in my palm. "Not really."

Quinn's face breaks into a smile. "Aww, you really really like him now?"

I nod. "Yes, it's bad," I say, playing with the wrapper from my straw.

"Why is it bad?"

"Because, I don't want to like anyone," I answer. "It's stressful. And I hate wondering if he feels the same way. And, even if he does, we're leaving in like, under a month, and he lives in Boston, so there's not even a point," I finish, saying all that in one breath.

Quinn is quiet for a second. "Ok, first of all, I don't really doubt that he doesn't not like you back."

"Um, too many double negatives," I say, frowning.