This is my entry in the
Summer Lovin' 2024
competition. It's a slow-burn romance, so if you're after something more immediate, or the D/s from my prior stories, you're probably better off looking elsewhere.
As always, many thanks to
TheNyxianLily
for editing and reviewing this story. Also, thanks to
Nellymcboatface
for critiquing my earlier work and pushing me to write something different and enter a competition.
Marie sighed as she looked through her bedroom window at the rain-swept street below. Sat on her bed in the cramped room, were her best friends, Nicole and Beccy.
"It's not that bad," said Nicole. "He was a bit of a dick."
Marie turned from the thrumming sound of rain with teary eyes. "You said you liked him."
Nicole shrugged. "Only because you were going out with him. I never did like him. If you ask me, you're better off on your own."
"I just wanted someone to -- oh, I don't know -- someone to care. Someone who got me. Someone who prefers spending time with me to his damned PlayStation."
Beccy snorted. "So one boy demanded you sleep with him or he wouldn't date you any more? Who cares? You're the hottest girl in school. And a natural platinum blonde too." She rolled her eyes in mock envy. "Get yourself someone better. What about Laurence Saunders?"
Marie shook her head. "I don't want someone else so soon --"
"Laurence?" said Nicole. "Isn't he going out with Audrey?"
Beccy nodded. "Yeah, I think so. Though Marie could totally steal him away. What about Dominic Henderson then?"
Marie held her hands out. "Like I said, I'm not looking --"
Nicole nodded. "Dom's alright. But didn't he and his family move to Scotland? How about Max?"
Beccy laughed. "Ugh. He spits when he talks. It's not the most romantic thing. Imagine." She slid off the bed onto one knee before Marie and mimed opening a ring box. When she spoke, spit flew from her mouth. "Marie, will you marry me? And spend the rest of your life washing your hair after every conversation?"
"I don't want anybody," Marie said. "I won't replace one dickhead with another, and there's nobody that great at school. Besides, I should be revising for my A-Levels, not looking for a new boyfriend. I appreciate the thought, but I don't want you two playing matchmaker. I'll do without any dates for a while."
Beccy sat back. "I'll only promise that, if you promise not to spend your evenings moping about, listening to Adele. We've only got a couple of months of school left. You'll get into a good uni, and that'll be full of older boys. You need to expand your horizons, that's all. The world is bigger than our school. Remember when I dated that boy from St Andrew's?"
Nicole glanced at Marie. "The one who cheated on you?"
"OK, maybe not a great example, but it does show there are plenty more blokes out there beyond our school. All Marie needs to do is keep her eyes open for her soul-mate and not let him go when she meets him."
⛱️
"We should go to Spain."
Marie and Nicole were stretching in preparation for their football match, the smell of fresh-cut grass filling the air. They looked up to see Beccy joining them.
"Spain?" said Nicole. "Why do you want to go to Spain?"
Beccy smiled. "Boys, beaches and booze."
Marie straightened up. "You've got a boyfriend already, remember? So does Nicole."
"Yes, but you don't. It's like I said the other day: you need to broaden your horizons. In the clubs in Spain, we'll find the boys from all of Europe."
Nicole laughed. "It sounds crowded."
Beccy said, "Come on, show some more enthusiasm. I got the idea from watching
The Inbetweeners Movie
last night. In the film they go on holiday to Spain after leaving school, looking to meet girls. We should do that. One more bash before adult life swallows us up and spits us back out when we retire."
Marie shook her head. "My mum and dad would never agree. You know how overprotective they can be."
"So tell them you've been revising hard and need a break. Nicole, you see what a good idea this is, don't you?"
"I dunno. Maybe? It does sound fun. But where would we go?"
Nicole smiled. "That's more like it. We'll hire a villa or apartment, just the three of us. Somewhere far too hot and near the beach. We can spend our days tanning, and our evenings at clubs."
"Hang on," said Marie. "If we do go, we should see the sights. There must be museums or churches to visit."
Beccy shook her head. "Holidays are wasted on you."
⛱️
Stepping out of the airport, the heat was a looming presence, even as dusk swept over the land.
Beccy marched along the pavement, her luggage a jiggling attendant behind her. "If it's this hot at night, the beach is going to be cooking at lunchtime. We've definitely picked the right place for a holiday."
Struggling to keep up, Marie looked around. "There's a bus to town over there. Or we could get a taxi."
"Taxi," said Nicole beside her. "After being cramped up in that plane for so long, I don't want to get on a bus. What's the address again?"
Stopping to get out her phone, Marie brought up the app.
"Never mind," called Beccy. "I've got it up on my phone. Quick, here's a taxi."
Marie and Nicole broke into a trot to reach the white Prius. As Marie ran, hand luggage in one hand and pulling her case with the other, her phone slipped from her sweaty fingers. Desperately, she tried to catch it, but it slipped away to crashed to the ground with a dull thud, its screen a spider's web of cracks. Pressing the power button left the screen black, and Marie swore.
Nicole stared at it over her shoulder. "Great start to the holiday. Come on, there's nothing you can do about it now. Let's get to the villa."
The taxi was comfortable, with soft, fur-covered seats embracing Marie as she sat in the back, and soft jazz coming from the radio. It smelled of cheap air freshener. Beccy was in the front passenger seat and soon gave the driver directions.
"Beccy," Marie said, "ask him if there's a phone repair shop in town." To Beccy's questioning look, she held up her phone.
Beccy had studied A-Level Spanish, so she did her best at a piecemeal conversation, before turning back to Marie. "He says this is a rural area. Your best bet is to head to the nearest big town, but that's fifty miles away." Marie's heart sank. "No, not fifty miles. Fifty kilometres. What's that: thirty-five miles?"
"It's still too far. Can you message my mum to let her know when we've arrived safely, and tell her she'll need to call your phone if she wants to talk to me."