This story starts last summer, my first holiday without my family as I'd just turned 18. I'd gone to the same resort I'd been to so many times with them, a beautiful beachfront hotel on a little island just off Cuba, still belonging to Cuba but far enough from the mainland to be much more tranquil than most Cuban resorts. There was a lively nightlife but through the day, when I preferred to lay on the beach or at the pool and not be bothered, I could do so. I loved the resort, and had made many good friends there.
When I arrived, after my 10 hour flight I was obviously exhausted so I went to my room to rest before going out to see what familiar faces I could find.
I walked to the back of the hotel disco knowing the dancers, most of whom I considered friends, would be rehearsing. As I looked around the door one of them, Dilia, a small olive skinned girl with boundless waves of bleach blonde hair, squealed excitedly and ran towards me. "Lily! Lily you're back!" she cried, hugging me tight. I was always surprised how excited they got to see people, and how they remembered names, considering how many guests they meet every year. She grasped my hand and led me to the rest of the group.
"Look who came back!" she squealed in Spanish. 11 heads turned to look at me, 9 of whom I knew. After some of the girls had hugged me and pulled excitedly at my hair (I'd dip dyed my dark brown hair blonde and the ombre effect seemed to fascinate them) the one face I'd been waiting to see broke through the rest. My closest friend in Cuba, and maybe in the world, the male lead dancer Cesar, stepped forward and scooped me up in his arms. The girls giggled and the guys raised their eyebrows; everyone thought Cesar and I were more than friends but the truth is we loved each other as friends too much to be anything else. He's one of the most beautiful men in the world, any female - and a lot of males - would agree, but we saw each other more as brother and sister than potential sexual partners. I clung tight to his solid body and breathed in the smell of soap and pineapple, ignoring the comments from any of our friends.
He put me down and I looked him up and down, he looked exactly the same as last time I saw him, light caramel skin, big brown doe eyes, a sculpted body with a tattoo of a lion rearing up on his stomach and his hair in the same style it always had been, shoulder length I guessed, pulled back into a ponytail with the shaved underside showing. And of course a bright white smile that could knock any girl off her feet. Not me though, never me.
He looked at me too, he took in my pale creamy skin yet to be kissed by the Cuban sun, my green eyes, my petite body, I knew him well and I knew he would have taken in my breasts too had I had anything to show. Being so slim however, I was only a 30A and even in the gold bandeau bikini top I had on with my denim shorts there was no noticeable cleavage. He smiled and stroked the bottom of my hair. "You made it blonde" he said. He'd always told me I should dye my hair blonde.
"It's not all blonde," I pointed out, touching the top of my dark brown wavy hair. "It's called dip dye. But it's okay, you can keep telling yourself I dyed it blonde, it's half brown for me and half blonde for you." He pulled me close and kissed me on the cheek.
