Beach Cute - Softcover

Reekles, Beth; Reeks, Bethan

 
9780593809068: Beach Cute
Softcover
ISBN 10: 0593809068 ISBN 13: 9780593809068
Verlag: Delacorte Press, 2024

Inhaltsangabe

From the author of the hit Kissing Booth series comes another sizzling story following three very different girls on summer vacation! Equal parts romance and humor, this is the perfect beach read for your next getaway.

Luna, Rory and Jodie are strangers in the need of a vacation... 

Luna has unexpectedly broken up with her boyfriend. 

Rory has to come up with a creative way to break it to her family she wants to pursue her art passion. 

And as for Jodie - she feels lost in both life and love. 

But these three strangers have one other thing in common...they are on their way to the same resort. As their lives collide in unexpected ways will they have the summer they'll never forget?

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Beth Reekles is the author of The Kissing Booth series which inspired the Netflix films. She first published The Kissing Booth on Wattpad in 2010, at age fifteen, and it accumulated almost 20 million reads before it was published by in 2012 by Random House Children's Books.

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1

Luna


“No,” I say, pushing my printed confirmation across the counter. “See? I booked hold luggage. It’s right there.”

“I’m sorry, miss, it’s not in our system.”

I gulp. What kind of useless, cheapo airline is this? Well, not that cheapo, since they’re currently trying to charge me again for my supposedly unbooked hold luggage.

My palms are sweating. I hate stuff like this. I hate arguing over stuff like this. If there’s one thing I normally avoid like the plague, it’s confrontation. But I am not paying that money. Liam would’ve dealt with it so well; he was great at stuff like this--especially because he knew I wasn’t.

I get a pang in my chest just thinking about him, and push that feeling deep, deep down. I’ve got the entire week ahead to get my head around that. Right now, I need to deal with the fact that this woman wants to charge me fifty-eight pounds for luggage I’ve already paid twenty-three pounds to put on the plane.

She’s smiling at me as if she’d like to load me onto the conveyor belt just to get rid of me, clearly waiting for me to cave and pay the money.

Come on, Luna. You can do this. You’re almost twenty years old. You’re an adult now, and adults know how to handle these things.

I inhale a deep breath through my nose and tap the paper on the counter. I’m so glad now that Mum insisted I print everything out “just in case.”

“But I paid for it. Look, it’s--it’s right here. Confirmation of payment, see? That’s what it says.”

The woman suppresses a sigh, but gives me a too-wide toothy smile and says, “Let me go find my manager and we’ll get this sorted for you.”

“Thank you,” I say, but I don’t let myself feel relieved yet--I’m already mentally drafting an email of complaint demanding a refund, just in case this all goes south.

(Confrontation is a lot easier on the other side of a screen, after all.)

I remain on tenterhooks, feeling pissed off and more than a little bit tearful until I’ve had the same argument with the woman’s manager, who looks my booking up on the system just to tell me I need to pay the fee, and I try not to lose it as I push my printed email toward her, too. I can hear people in the queue behind me grumbling because I’m causing trouble and taking so long.

Don’t worry, I want to snap at them. The plane won’t leave without you.

Even though I know I’d be doing exactly the same in their position.

And even though I am worried the plane might leave without me at this rate.

Eventually, the manager concedes that I have in fact paid the fee due and lets my baggage through. My boarding pass is handed back to me with a smile. “So sorry about that. It must be because you booked through a third party. Have a safe flight, miss.”

“Thanks,” I mumble, praying I don’t have the same trouble at the hotel. Maybe booking this whole thing when I’d had a few drinks wasn’t my smartest move . . .

Then again, there are a lot of things that make the “Luna’s Completely Lost It” list lately--and a solo trip to Spain isn’t even the most drastic of them.

I turn away, examining my boarding pass and checking my seat number for the billionth time. I’m so focused on it that I walk right into someone trying to get to the counter to check in.

“Oof!”

“Sorry, sorry! I’m so sorry,” I say as the girl starts apologizing too. “Totally my fault,” I tell her.

She fixes the sunglasses perched artfully on top of her head, where her blond hair is piled into a messy bun. “No worries, hon.”

She looks so zen, a pale-blue travel wallet clutched between fingers with lilac nail varnish on long nails, a small and lazy smile on her face. She’s wearing a white camisole tucked into gray linen shorts and a long, almost see-through white cardigan with a fringe that brushes her knees. The look is tied together by a chunky turquoise necklace and giant cork wedges with brown suede straps that match the brown leather bag hanging from her elbow.

For a moment, all I can think is: She’s so Instagrammable. In spite of the fact that she only looks about my age, I wonder for half a second if she’s some popular influencer because my next thought is: Who dresses like that to travel? She’ll have to take those shoes off when she gets to security, and I bet that necklace buzzes when she walks through. And how can she fit her hand luggage in that handbag? It looks mostly empty.

As I get out of the way so she can wheel her small suitcase to the check-in desk, I take another look at how glamorous she is. She’s joined the back of the queue and is holding her travel wallet between her teeth, bags on the floor, as she takes a video of herself wiggling her passport in the air for the camera.

I feel like such a slob in my most comfortable leggings and T-shirt, with my big rucksack, Vans and thin hoodie. We always dress comfortably to go on family trips, and it’s a habit I’m apparently not breaking anytime soon. Traveling alone is nerve-racking enough without suddenly throwing new habits into the mix.

Well, the joke’s on Instagram Girl, I think, hiking my rucksack higher onto my shoulders and heading toward the escalator to make my way through security. Her legs will be cold on those airplane seats.


It takes me forever to get through security. I remember being tempted in my moment of madness (or rather, drunkenness) by the security fast-track option, for however much extra money. I’d talked myself out of it then, but standing in the queue in front of a man in a suit talking loudly on his phone and behind a family with a screaming toddler and a little boy who keeps running under the ropes, I regret it.

The line crawls along. I get my phone out, clicking out of my boarding pass now that I no longer need it and instead tapping aimlessly across social media. Not much on Threads catches my attention, and my headphones are in the bottom of my bag somewhere, so mindlessly scrolling TikTok isn’t much of an option. I have one rubbish email promoting a makeup brand, which I delete, and just as I’m about to check Instagram, my phone buzzes.

Liam.

For a second, my heart stops. Then it launches into a somersault, leaving me feeling queasy in the pit of my stomach.

Saw on Insta you’re off on vacay. Hope you have a good time x

I stare at the message for a while--long enough that Mr. Noisy Talker behind me taps me on the shoulder and says, “Excuse me, could you move forward?”

I do, and before I can even decide whether I should reply or not another text comes through.

Roger brought my stuff over. I’d have come to get it if I’d realized you were moving out early. Thanks though

The dots reappear while he types another text.

They disappear.

They come back again.

I miss you

The guy behind me clears his throat, pointedly enough that I look around. He nods irritably in front of me, and I shuffle along into the space between me and the family.

What am I meant to do about that? What am I meant to do with an “I miss you”?

Especially when I’ve spent the last couple of weeks wallowing in regret because I’ve realized I miss him, too?


I knew Liam was The One from the second I met him. We were introduced by friends a few years ago, when we were fifteen....

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Verlag
Delacorte Press
Erscheinungsdatum
2024
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0593809068
ISBN 13 
9780593809068
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
336
Kontakt zum Hersteller
Nicht verfügbar
Verantwortliche Person
Buchpark GmbH
gpsr@buchpark.de

Krügerweg 1
Trebbin
Brandenburg
14959
Deutschland