Chapter 6 Spring Break
SPRING brEAK
On the first day of spring break, Hannah steps outside to a mild blue sky.
She stands still on the front porch, holding her sunglasses in one hand and her travel bag in the other, until Joanie lumbers out behind her and says, “Move your slow ass, can’t you see I’ve got an economy-sized duffel bag here? ”
Baker shows up right on time, swinging her car into the driveway with country music spilling from the open windows. She wears her favorite white shorts from Banana Republic and the old Ray-Bans she inherited from her brother, and Hannah tries not to look at her for too long.
Hannah’s mom steps onto the porch behind them, still dressed in her pajamas. “Do you have everything, girls?”
“I think Joanie has enough for a month,” Hannah says, watching Joanie struggle to zip up her bag.
“And I think Hannah has such a great sense of humor,” Joanie pants.
“Did you print out directions? You know where you’re going?”
“We’ll use our phones, Mom.”
“Okay. Well, be safe. Call me when you get there. Use your manners and make sure you help Mrs. Landry with everything. And no drinking.”
“We know, Mom,” Hannah and Joanie say in unison.
“Drive carefully, Baker.”
“I will, Mrs. Eaden.”
“And if these two start fighting, just give me a call.”
“I will,” Baker laughs politely.
They all hug Hannah’s mom goodbye, and she gives them the look and tells them to behave, and then they’re in the car and on their way to meet the boys, and Hannah feels the promise of spring break growing in her belly.
“Adventure,” she says, turning to grin at Baker.
Baker keeps her eyes focused on the road, but her mouth curves into a smile. “Adventure.”
“I think we’re Destined for greatness this break,” Hannah says.
“I think you’re right,” Baker says.
“I hate both of you,” Joanie says, and they all laugh.
They pick up Luke from his mom’s house—she kisses him goodbye and waves at them from the porch, still wearing her bathrobe—and then drive to the Landrys’ to meet Clay, Wally, and Clay’s parents. They park in the driveway behind Clay’s dad’s Audi and Hannah moves to get out of the car.
“Hold on,” Baker says, grabbing her arm, and Hannah pretends not to notice her skin tingling. “He wanted us to text him first.”
“Why?”
“So he can stash the alcohol in here before his parents come out.”
“Genius,” Joanie says. “We honestly don’t give him enough credit.”
Clay takes forever to come outside. Hannah, Baker, Joanie, and Luke sit in the car, their windows rolled down and their legs pulled up on their seats, swapping theories about what’s taking him so long.
“He’s flexing in front of the mirror.”
“He’s praying a decade of the rosary.”
“He’s watching Glee again.”
“He’s definitely pooping.”
“Stop projecting, Joanie,” Hannah says, and Baker laughs.
Clay walks out of the house a minute later, small duffel bag thrown over his shoulder and winning smile on his face.
“That’s it?” Joanie says. “Look at the size of that bag. There’s no way he fit all the alcohol in there. What’s he bringing, those dinky little sample sizes of Firefly?”
Baker hangs her arm out the window as Clay strides up to the car. “Feel like going to Destin?”
“Absolutely,” Clay says, his voice loud and rumbling. “Sorry I took so long. My mom made sausages.”
“Where’s the stash?” Joanie says, leaning forward from the back seat to address him.
“Have to get it from the backyard. Hold on.”
He disappears around the back of the house, then returns a few minutes later with a navy-blue book sack in hand, Wally at his side this time. Hannah and the others get out of the car and meet them on the driveway.
“This better?” Clay asks, opening the book sack for them to see. Inside are two handles of whiskey and a fifth of vodka.
“Much better,” Joanie says.
“We’ll have to be careful,” Baker says, “with your parents around and everything.”
“We’ll keep it hidden in our room,” Clay says, gesturing to Wally and Luke. “Don’t worry.”
They stow the bag in Baker’s car, right between Luke’s and Joanie’s seats (“It’s like our baby,” Joanie says; “Our beautiful, boozy baby,” Luke says), and head into the house to help Clay’s parents bring their things out to the car.
Mrs. Landry greets them warmly, pulling each of them into a hug, and says, “Look at this beautiful day—can it get any better?”
After their cars are packed, their phones are set to the Destin address, and Clay has doubled back inside to use the bathroom, their caravan of cars reverses out of the Landrys’ driveway and heads toward the interstate.
Hannah settles into the passenger seat, tucking her legs up underneath her, watching Clay’s and Wally’s heads brush against the seats of Dr. Landry’s car in front of them.
They cruise down I-12 East, laughing and joking and arguing over the music.
Joanie convinces Baker to lower the windows again so they can “appreciate how the rush of air makes our hair blow like models.” And then for a while they all sit quietly, subdued by the music and the stretch of the bright sun.
Hannah picks up Baker’s iPhone, connected to the stereo through the auxiliary jack, and scrolls through the playlists until she finds the one she wants—the one she discovered by accident a few months ago, and which made Baker blush and steal the phone back.
Songs han loves.
She settles on Coldplay’s “Strawberry Swing” and leans back against the leather seat, letting the song wash over her. Baker turns the volume up, and Hannah glances over at her, one hand on the steering wheel, the other fiddling with the ends of her hair, sunlight stealing over her collarbone.
“Perfect choice,” Baker says, her voice soft and faraway.
Hannah doesn’t respond for a long beat. The lingering notes of the song echo in her head, until she blinks hard against the sunlight and shifts in her seat.
“Truth,” she says, and scrolls through the playlist to find another song.
Their rental house is four stories tall, narrow, stucco, with high windows over a wraparound balcony. Baker parks in the driveway behind Dr. Landry, and they step out of the car and stretch in the late afternoon sun. Hannah can smell and taste the saltwater air.
“All right,” Clay says, staring up at the house with quiet satisfaction. “This is definitely where I wanna be right now.”
“It’s a beautiful house,” Baker says.
“Well, come on,” Dr. Landry says, climbing the stairs to the second-story entryway. “Let’s have a look around.”
The eight of them tour the house together, Hannah and her friends trailing the Landrys through the kitchen, the hallway, the basement bedroom, and the pool area. Clay yanks off his T-shirt and Sperrys and jumps in the pool right then and there, splashing them all with water.
“Clay—!” his mother starts.
“Come on!” Clay calls to Luke and Wally. “We don’t need to see the upstairs, we’re not sleeping there.”
Wally looks to Mrs. Landry. She rubs a hand down her face and rolls her eyes. “Go ahead, boys,” she says. “You’re on vacation, anyway.”
They leave the boys to roughhouse in the pool while they tour the upper levels. “This must be the master,” Dr. Landry says, circling around a cavernous bedroom on the third floor. “Nellie, I’ll get our things.”
“Okay,” Mrs. Landry says, popping her lips, “and let’s see the other bedrooms—”
She leads them into a standard bedroom across the hall from the master. It has a queen-sized bed and a Jacuzzi in the bathroom.
“Oh my god,” Joanie says, eyeing the Jacuzzi. “I have to sleep in here.”
Mrs. Landry laughs as she crosses the room to open the curtains. “So does that mean Baker and Hannah want to take the fourth-floor bedroom? Or do you want to share with your sister, Hannah?”
Joanie spins away and heads into the bathroom, her eyes on the hot tub, unconcerned with Hannah’s answer. Hannah looks to Baker before she can help it, realizing too late that she is asking a question with her eyes. Baker meets Hannah’s eyes for only the sharpest second before she looks away.
In the time it takes to inhale, Hannah knows an infinite moment of turmoil as her mind wrestles with her heart.
“I’ll go upstairs.”
“Lovely,” Mrs. Landry says easily. “Let’s go on up and see it.”
Hannah and Baker follow Mrs. Landry to the very top floor, where they find a small landing with a white door leading off of it. Mrs. Landry nudges the door open with a light touch of her fingers to the wood, murmuring, “Let’s see,” under her breath.
This room is smaller than any of the others in the house.
The walls are sea green, with a paper border of seashells cresting along the top.
Two large porthole windows are hung with airy, pearl-colored curtains that soften the sunlight so it coats the room in a tempered glow.
Hannah notes a simple dresser, a white wicker rocking chair, and a queen-sized bed with a seashell-pink comforter. To her left is a small bathroom.
“Oh, this is so cute,” Mrs. Landry says, stepping toward the windows and parting the curtains. “I think you two got the best room in the house!”
“It’s perfect,” Baker says softly.
“It is,” Hannah agrees.
“Well, I’ll get out of your hair so you can unpack and get changed,” Mrs. Landry says, crossing the room with a pleased smile. “I’m making sandwiches for y’all to take to the beach. Turkey okay?”
Hannah flops onto the bed after Mrs. Landry leaves. She stretches her arms above her head and listens as Baker pulls items from her Vera Bradley duffel bag.
“You unpacking already?” Hannah asks, her eyes on the ceiling.
“If I don’t do it now, you know I’ll stress on the beach.”
“Ah, yes, can’t leave a chore uncompleted,” Hannah teases, and Baker spikes a balled-up pair of socks at her. “Hey, did you bring toothpaste? I forgot mine.”
Baker snorts. “I brought every toiletry I could think of because I knew you’d forget something.”
Hannah sits up on the bed, a smile already on her face. “What? I never forget anything.”