Flirting with Boys by Hailey Abbott

down at Travis to see if he had heard that name , but luckily his eyes were still closed. She turned down the volume on the radio and pressed it against her ear.
    â€œAh, here it is.” Rick apparently found his list. “Two towels, one glass of Perrier with lemons but no ice, a slice of wheat toast with butter and strawberry jam, and a copy of Us Weekly .” He paused. “Celeste?”
    â€œYes, I’m here,” Celeste said into the radio, resisting the urge to bang her head against the tree branch. Us Weekly? What did he think she was, a flight attendant? “Look, Rick, just tell him—” Her father’s voice suddenly boomed in her head, like some sort of edict from God: Keeping the Saunders family happy should be your number one priority. Celeste gritted her teeth and sighed. “Rick?”
    â€œStill here.”
    â€œTell the, ah, guest that I’ll be right over.” She slid down from her tree perch and landed with a thump next to Travis.
    â€œMmm,” he muttered without opening his eyes. “Definitely nap time. Come here.” He reached for her but she stood up.
    â€œTrav, I have to go deal with a guest situation. Rick just called over on the radio.”
    â€œNo, don’t go,” Travis said dreamily. “So nice here in the sun. Let’s just chill for a minute.”
    Celeste smiled. His brown curls were falling over his forehead and his cheeks were flushed like a little boy’s. “I can’t, I have to go,” she said softly.
    To her surprise, Travis opened his eyes and heaved himself up. “Yeah, I should probably get back too. Dave’s going to come check up on me any minute.” He reached out and brushed some grass off Celeste’s rear. “I’ll walk you to your errand.” He turned and started heading across the golf course.
    Celeste’s hands went cold. She bounded after him. “Ah, Travis, wait,” she said, panting a little as she tried to keep up. “That’s okay. You don’t have to walk me. You should definitely get back. Dave’ll find you slacking off otherwise!” She tried to sound as casual as possible.
    Just then, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She whipped it out and shot a glance at the screen. Nick. She pressed mute and dropped it back in her pocket. They were almost back at the main building now. Celeste could see the swimmers in the pool, their bathing suits bright splashes of color against the turquoise water. Buzz-buzz . Her phone again. Travis glanced at her.
    â€œWhy don’t you answer that?” he asked.
    â€œOh, um, it’s probably a telemarketer or something,” Celeste fumbled. Travis wrinkled his forehead.
    â€œOn a cell phone?”
    Buzz-buzz. Damn it, Nick! She flipped open the phone.
    â€œHey, baby,” Nick’s voice said on the other end. Baby?!
    Celeste glanced at Travis. “Oh, hello, Mr. Juarez,” she said loudly.
    â€œWho’s Mr. Juarez?” Nick asked. “Are you bringing over the stuff I ordered?”
    Celeste gritted her teeth. “Of course, sir,” she said into the phone. “I’d be glad to recommend a few restaurants for your anniversary.”
    â€œHuh?” Nick said. “Are you whacked?”
    â€œCertainly, sir,” Celeste warbled. “I’ll have them for you by the end of the day.” She clicked her phone closed and mopped at the sweat trickling down her forehead. Travis stopped. They were next to the grounds shed.
    â€œOkay, so see you later?” he asked, leaning down to kiss her.
    â€œDefinitely,” Celeste replied. She darted a quick glance around for any parental-figure types and then planted a lingering kiss on his mouth. Dave appeared at the screen door of the shed.
    â€œTrav!” He waved. “I need you to get on that weed-whacker, stat. All the edging on the main paths.”
    Travis nodded dutifully. He gave Celeste a squeeze and headed