Acapulco Nights by K. J. Gillenwater

me. The attraction between us was stronger than anything I had ever experienced.
    We shifted and moved to the music, song after song. An instant chemistry sparked between us. Something gnawing and fierce.
    We danced through a whole set of songs. I paid no mind to how long I had been in his arms.
    Someone touched my shoulder.
    “Why don’t you give someone else a turn?” Mercedes butted in.
    Instead of ignoring the rude interruption, Joaquin welcomed the battle over his attentions. A slight, sardonic smile appeared on his face. What red-blooded male doesn’t enjoy the possibility of a cat fight?
    He dropped his hand from my waist and stepped back, waiting.
    I wanted to shove her away, tell her in no uncertain terms that Joaquin had asked me to dance and not her. But a fleeting thought crossed my mind: once the weekend ended, we would be back at school sharing a dorm room. I had seven more months in Mexico, and I wanted to enjoy them. I stepped away from Joaquin.
    When Mercedes stepped into his embrace for her dance, I gave Joaquin a slow smile, letting him know I would be waiting for him once the music ended.
    They disappeared into the crowd of dancers, enveloped in mass of swirling skirts and dark heads.

CHAPTER SIX
     
    “Wake up, sleepy head!”
    I groaned and rolled over, covering my head with a pillow. Who wakes up this early in the morning on a vacation?
    “Come on! Kayaking class starts at nine, so we only have two hours to get ready and eat breakfast,” Janice announced, more chipper than any human being should be at seven in the morning.
    Uncovering one eye, I squinted from my pillow cave. “Five more minutes?” I begged.
    “No, no, no, Suze,” Janice scolded, pulling the pillow off me and folding down the covers. “We can’t be late for our very first lesson.”
    I turned over and propped myself up on my elbows. “Hey! You’re already dressed!”
    Janice wore her bikini top, a pair of khaki shorts, a stripe of zinc oxide on her nose, and her straw hat now bedecked with a small Mexican flag tucked in the band. “I’ve been up since five-thirty.”
    Although exhaustion weighed me down, I couldn’t help but be caught up in Janice’s enthusiasm. She was the bright light in a dark room for as long as I had known her. She had never been afraid to try anything once, with the exception of second dates.
    I swung my feet over the side of the bed. “All right. I’m up.”
    Janice beamed.
    “Give me coffee and fifteen minutes, and then we’re out the door.”
    “Ten.”
    “Twenty!”
    She laughed. I loved her hoarse honk of a laugh. I smiled, rubbed my eyes, and scampered off to the bathroom for a quick shower.
    “There’d better be coffee when I get out of here!” I yelled.
    “A good dip in the ocean should wake you up!”
    Kayaking? I must be crazy.
    *
    “And that ends the safety portion of our course,” said our instructor, a short but well-built native with only a touch of an accent.
    During the half-hour lecture, Janice sat, listening intently. If she thought to bring along a notebook, she probably would have filled it with notes. She took her sports seriously.
    I, on the other hand, had a difficult time keeping my mind on the endless list of what-to-dos and what-not-to-dos, the details of the equipment, the demonstrations. I was more interested in observing the rest of our class: one man.
    Our introductory sea kayaking lesson included three people: me, Janice, and a stocky fellow named George. I wasn’t sure if I should be worried (why did no one else want to take this class?) or happy. Less people meant more one-on-one instruction, right? Maybe we could get through all the basic maneuvers more quickly with only three participants.
    When the instructor handed me a life jacket, a helmet, and a paddle, I wished I’d listened more closely to his lecture. First, we were to practice paddling, and then, we needed to try rollovers.
    Rollovers looked to me as if they were paid underwater torture