The Trouble With Flirting by Rachel Morgan Page A

cooler than any I’ve had before. I’ll spend the remainder of my varsity career closed in my bedroom, wrapped in many layers of clothing, working hard like a—
    “Can you help me with my sunscreen, Livi?” Allegra asks. She hands over a bottle of spray-on sunscreen before twisting around so her back is facing me. “I guess our plan didn’t work,” she whispers—a proper whisper this time, not one meant for half the beach to hear. “The guys are far more interested in their beach snacks than in rubbing sunscreen over us.”
    Right. So … the boob-flashing incident is forgotten? Just like that? Maybe I didn’t expose as much skin as I thought. I spray sunscreen across Allegra’s shoulders, neck and back. I rub it in, then swivel on my towel so she can do the same for me. Our plan was to sit close enough to the guys that they’d end up offering to help us out with our sunscreen, but it’s now a bit awkward with Charlotte, Amber and Courtney lying between us and our sexy Norse gods.
    “Oh my Gabbana, Livi,” Allegra says as she replaces the cap on her sunscreen bottle. “I just thought of something.”
    “What?” I glance down hurriedly to check I’m not flashing everyone again, but my bikini is in place.
    “You would make such a hot blonde.”
    “What?” I reach up to pat the mess of hair bundled on top of my head. “No way. Really?”
    “Yes, totally. Not, like, bleach blonde. But something more natural. Like blonde and gold highlights mixed in with your red. It would be so hot. Please let’s do it the next time we go to a salon!”
    “Um, okay, I’ll think about it.” I didn’t realise hair colour could make a person so excited, but Allegra seems thrilled by her idea. She rolls onto her stomach and pulls a magazine from her bag.
    “Let’s look for an example,” she says, already flipping through the pages.
    “Uh, sure.” I lie beside her, wishing I was reading my own magazine, which features an article on the actress playing the lead role in the newest Marvel Comics movie adaptation.
    A shadow falls across the page. “Hey, Livi.” I look up and see Jackson silhouetted against the bright sun. “I thought maybe you and I could take a walk along the beach. If you want to.”
    I look at Allegra, who gives me an excited grin, then back up at Jackson.
    Be cool, Alivia , I instruct myself. Just. Be. Cool.
    “Yeah, sure, okay.” I sit up, grab my sarong from my bag— Slowly! Stop looking like you’re desperate to be at his side! —and tie it around my hips before standing.
    “Let’s walk along the shoreline,” he says. “You can feel how cold the water is. Maybe,” he adds with a cute half-smile, “you’ll be brave enough stick more than just your toes in.”
    After a glance back over my shoulder to where Allegra is giving me two thumbs up, I follow him.

    From: Alivia Howard
    Sent: Sat 1 Mar, 11:48 pm
    To: Sarah Henley
    Subject: Romantic Beach Scene

    Sarah!

    Think of every romantic beach scene you’ve ever written (I don’t know if you’ve actually written any, but just IMAGINE one if you haven’t), put them all together, and that’s what I had today! Well, aside from the accidental half-flashing of my left boob, which I hope no one EVER mentions again.

    Anyway, so you remember Jackson, right? The guy who keeps smiling at me in lectures? The guy who then sat next to me twice last week? And drew cute little doodles along the edge of my notes? (I have NO idea what happened during those two lectures.) Well he was there today. At the beach. And he asked me to go for a walk with him—just the two of us!

    We talked about where we grew up, and what our hopes are for the future, and what music we like, and tons of other stuff that’s random but seemed really AMAZING to talk about at the time. He splashed me with water (I know, I know, you’re cringing right now. Hopefully you never wrote that part in any of your Romantic Beach Scenes,