Island Girls (and Boys) Read Online Free PDF Page B

the campground, marking the few sites that were occupied. Then I headed toward the other side,driving along the far edge that ran along the length of the bay.
    I stopped when I neared the area where Dylan and Zach were putting up their tent. I didn�t really have a plan. I just felt like I had to do� something .
    I walked between two empty blacktop sites that I knew would have trailers on them by the weekend. Then I stepped onto the beach, loose sand shifting beneath my feet as I made my way to where the guys were.
    Dylan stopped working as I neared. �Did we pick a spot that�s off limits?�
    ï¿½Oh, no, you�re fine.� Did he think I was the campground police or something? I nodded toward the tent. �I�m just amazed. You could give lessons on putting up a tent. I�ve never seen one go up so fast.�
    Okay. I�d never actually watched one go up. It wasn�t exactly on my list of the top hundred-and-one things to see before I died.
    ï¿½The quicker we get it up, the more time we have to explore,� Dylan explained.
    ï¿½And find babes,� Zach said. He leaned over slightly, like someone who realizes that themovie camera isn�t focused on him and wants to be in the picture. So all the camera picks up is his head and stretched neck. I couldn�t decide if he was funny or pathetic.
    ï¿½I can�t help you there,� I said. And it occurred to me that if Zach was all about finding babes, maybe Dylan was, too. And maybe I shouldn�t show any interest in him, because like Mrs. P had said�he wouldn�t stay long.
    I lifted my clipboard. �Well, I�d better get back to work. I just wanted to make sure you were getting settled in okay.�
    ï¿½You do that for all the campers?� Dylan asked.
    ï¿½As much as possible,� I lied. �We try to make everyone feel welcome.�
    ï¿½So we�re just part of the crowd?�
    I flung out my arms. �Do you see a crowd?�
    He laughed. It was a really nice laugh. �Guess not. So what do you recommend for two guys passing through? Is Surf Town a happening place?�
    I suddenly felt really dull. Every time I�d come to the island with my parents, I�d built sand castles, sunbathed, and played in the ocean.Last night, we�d eaten pizza. Not very exciting. We hadn�t done all the things we�d planned and talked about for months. We hadn�t partied. We hadn�t gone clubbing. We hadn�t become absorbed in the island culture. We�d unpacked.
    ï¿½There are some clubs,� I said.
    ï¿½Which is the best?�
    I hadn�t a clue. But I didn�t want to admit that. �They all have something different to offer.�
    ï¿½We like different,� Zach said.
    ï¿½How long have you been camping?� I asked inanely, trying to turn the conversation onto familiar ground.
    Dylan shifted his stance. �A little over a week. We started right at the Louisiana border, and we�re working our way down to Mexico.�
    ï¿½What do you do at night?�
    ï¿½Are you issuing an invitation?�
    I suddenly wished the sand beneath my feet would open up and swallow me whole. I wasn�t a complete stranger to flirting, but this was way out of my league. �No, just curious. Making conversation.�
    ï¿½Well, then, for conversation�s sake, it depends on where we are. If we�re near a town,we check it out, party, meet people�have fun. If a town isn�t close, we just build a fire, watch the stars come out.�
    Watching the stars come out with Dylan sounded to me like the most exciting thing a girl could ever do. I wanted to stay and talk with him, but my dependability buzzer went off.
    ï¿½I really do have to get back to work,� I said.
    ï¿½Maybe we�ll see you later.�
    ï¿½Maybe.�
    I trudged back to the cart, climbed on, drove through another section of sites, then