Page 5 of The Summer We Kept Secrets (The Destin Diaries #4)
We’re officially BACK at the beach! It’s been so much fun in the two weeks since we got here that I totally forgot to start a new notebook for this year. And let me tell you, this year I am THRIVING.
Well, sort of. Emotionally, yes. Spiritually, absolutely. Hygienically? TBD.
Because let me tell you what’s NOT thriving: the main bathroom that is “just for the kids.” Except…
there are six of us, and that includes three fifteen-year-old girls (I’m one by the way) and two eighteen-year-old boys (I don’t even want to know what they do in a bathroom).
And of course, Crista, who’s nine but still has to bathe like Cleopatra.
Six kids. One bathroom. One shower/tub combo. No rules. No boundaries. And one sad showerhead that dribbles instead of sprays, and exactly three inches of counter space.
This morning I had shampoo in my hair and one leg halfway shaved when the hot water cut out. Gone. Just ICE. I screamed so loud Eli knocked on the door and asked if I slipped and died.
Kate’s already devised a sign-up sheet (which Tessa promptly ignored), and Eli thinks it’s funny to say he’s “training for the Navy” by taking cold showers, but really he just wants the bathroom first so he can hog the mirror and “perfect his hair swoop.” Boys.
Tessa, though. TESSA. I love that girl to death, but she thinks every shower is full-blown beauty pageant prep that takes forty-five minutes.
This morning she played Whitney Houston three times in a row on her waterproof cassette player and came out wearing a robe like she was getting ready to go on a talk show.
When I told her that FIVE of us use the bathroom, I got a hair flip and a reminder that beauty takes time.
Rude.
ANYWAY. Besides the bathroom horror, everything is amazing. The ocean is the perfect, Jo Ellen stocked the freezer with bomb pops (bless), and Peter carried my suitcase into the house without me even asking. I know, I know—he’s probably just being nice. But also…maybe not??? I’m watching closely.
He and Eli found their “friends”—other eighteen-year-old big boys like Dustin “the Boogie Board Destroyer” Mathers. That kid got tall, but he’s still a menace. My mom calls him a “wild child” and for once I actually agree with her.
He came over with Peter and Eli after their fishing thing last night and we made s’mores.
He caught all his marshmallows on fire, which of course incited Tessa to swirl them around and do a fire dance.
It was equal parts hilarious and terrifying, but also surprising because Dustin totally ignores her. Maybe he’s blind.
So yeah. Summer is on.
Tessa just went back into the bathroom, so I have to sit outside the door for forty minutes to keep my place in line.
Love always,
Vivien
P.S. Peter called me “early bird” this morning because I was the first one up. It wasn’t really a compliment. But still. Yeah, he’s cuter than ever and ye olde crushe hasn’t worn off, sadly.