Summer Nights by Christin Lovell

hate always being right?” I
threw a hand on my hip.
    “Nope. I love it.” She stuck her nose
in the air and sashayed off ahead of me. “I don’t know about you,
but I’m famished.” Her voice was regal as she flaunted her
success.
    My stomach chose that moment to growl.
I rolled my eyes and rushed to catch up. “Let’s go grab something
to eat.”
    ***
    The moment we returned to the hotel,
Stella pulled out a new outfit from her shopping bags, showered and
dressed. She fussed over herself, ensuring every hair, every
accessory and every smidgen of make-up was in the right
place.
    “How do I look?” she asked, her palms
up, arms extended at shoulder height in question.
    I took in her brown eyes, highlighted
with the pearl and purple shadow on her lids. Her face was dusted
lightly in powder, just enough to even her skin tone and take away
the shine. Her full lips were coated in a shimmering plum lipstick.
Her hair was styled perfectly; her white shorts, tan tank top,
silver tear drop earrings and purple beaded necklace all worked
with each other. She finished her ensemble with her silver sandals.
She was beautiful.
    “Fabulous, darling,” I replied in a
fake, old Hollywood accent.
    “Good. Now, you need to get fabulous,
darling, for when Mr. Cruz comes around.”
    I bit my lower lip, fidgeting in place,
wishing my nerves would stall out. “I, uh, think I’m gonna go out
tonight.”
    She narrowed her eyes. “Summer Louise,
you better march your butt into that bathroom-“
    “I can’t.” My mouth was dry, my chest
tight.
    She calmed down and closed the gap
between us. She pulled me into her arms and surrounded me with a
firm, loving hug. “Honey, I know you’ve been hurt by men and your
family, but you’re never going to know love unless you risk the
pain again. I’m not saying this is it and that he’s the one, but I
am saying that you work too hard and play too little. Let him wine
and dine you. Let him show you San Juan from a resident’s point of
view. Indulge yourself. You deserve it.”
    I wiped the few stray tears from my
eyes. “I know you’re right. I guess I just feel a little vulnerable
still from all that’s happened lately.”
    I flashed back to the night of my
father’s drunken rage. His words slurred as he projected them
throughout the house. He stumbled in an effort to reach my
mother.
    “Don’t you take another step towards me
you drunk bastard,” my mother ordered.
    “Egh” –he flicked his wrist, blowing
her off- “I don’t n..nee…need you. Ibe got someone better. Come
here, bubby girl.”
    My eyes widened as I looked to my
mother for help. I didn’t know why. She’d never rescued me before.
She turned away and went upstairs, leaving me to fend for myself
yet again. I didn’t know why I still came around. I was a dreamer I
suppose. I kept wishing and praying that things would change, but
they never did.
    “Dad, I think you should sit down.” I
tried to remove the nearly empty bottle from his grip as he drew
closer. He swung his arm out away from me.
    “You trying to steal fum me?” His eyes
were dilated, proof that the monster was about to come out and
play.
    “No. I think you’ve had enough to
drink. Why don’t you go sit down and I’ll get you some water.” I
took a step back, unsure of what he would do next. My heart raced,
shivers chasing up my spine as I waited with bated breath to see if
he’d comply.
    “Fuck you.” He swung his bottle,
connecting with the right side of my head. The remnants of the
whiskey sloshed over me, soaking my hair and lashes.
    I gasped, jumping back in shock. A
throbbing, shooting pain set in. I lifted my fingers shakily
towards my head. They came away bloody. Without another thought I
grabbed my purse and ran out the door. I didn’t look back to see if
he was following; my mother didn’t even call downstairs to see if
everything was alright. They didn’t care. The sad truth was, they
were my parents, but they’d never