I walked out onto the balcony and lean on the railing, squinting as I look out at the sea. My dad soon follows and comes to stand next to me. “Lovely view isn’t it?” He asks from beside me. +
“Yeah it’s great.” I reply. I love being on holiday. Every year since I was 6 months old I’ve come to Majorca, Spain with my mum, dad, nana and grandad and every year it’s just been my family and me.
I’m incapable of talking to anyone I don’t know, I’m far too awkward for that.
My friends always come back from their holidays and tell me all about the friends they made whilst they were away. How do people do it? I don’t understand. To top it all off, it happens to be a running joke in the family.
“Think you’ll make any friends this year?” My dad asks from his chair.
“If you actually talk to someone, you might find yourself with one.”
I laugh, “Easier said than done.”
“It’s really not.” Is his reply. I scoff and drop my head.
“I just can’t do it.”
He nods slowly, “Well you never know, you’re 17 now, this might be your year.”
“I really hope so.” I turn and walk back into the air-conditioned room. I find my mum doing a word search on the sofa bed.
“No pool today love, we’ll just unpack for now.” My shoulders slump. The pool is by far the best part of every holiday. I’ve always loved swimming and have been on my local swimming team since I was about 7.
I walk over to my case and start taking out clothes and hanging them up.
A couple of hours later I’m on my nana and grandads balcony. They’re staying in the room next door to us and I listen as their voices float through the open glass doors.
“Walter!! What have you done with my tablets?”
“I haven’t touched your tablets!”
“Well they’re not where I put ’em and who else would have touched my bloody tablets?!”
“Maybe the maid moved them?”
“Men; always making excuses.”
I laugh quietly to myself and look out at the hotel.
It’s in a big ‘L’ shape with the pool between the blocks of apartments, we’re practically in the corner where the two blocks meet. I scan across the balconies I can see in front of me to the left until my eyes stop and focus on something – more specifically, someone.
Stood on a balcony about 4 rooms across on the same floor as us, I see a boy in a similar position to me, arms crossed, leaning against the railing.
He’s about my age, brown hair, tan skin, and an impressive six pack. Probably one of the most attractive people I’ve ever seen in my life. My mouth is hung open ever so slightly and I quickly snap it shut.
My grandad comes out to stand next to me and I instantly avert my eyes.
“What are you staring at that lad for?” He questions the ghost of a smirk on his face.
“What! I wasn’t…I…” I sigh and curse my inability to lie as my face flushes bright red.
“Good looking that one. I er…what do they call it?” He pauses a moment, thinking. “Ah, that’s it, I ‘ship’ it.”
I look at my granddad’s smiling face. Did I hear that right? “How do you know that?”
“What do you mean? I’m down with the kids, me.”
I give him a pointed look and he sighs. “There was this article in the paper about the words you use nowadays and what they mean.” I laugh.
“Was it an insightful read?”
“No, not at all. Your generation speaks a whole different language to mine.” We both laugh and turn to look at the sinking sun. “Why don’t you try talking to that boy tomorrow?” I look at him as if he’s grown a second head.
“You’re joking right?”
“You’re a beautiful girl, he’d fall for you instantly.”
“No offence, but your opinion’s kind of biased.” He shrugs.
“None taken. Just know; I’m always right.”
“That opinion is also biased.” He smacks me lightly on the arm and I laugh.
“You’ll see.” He turns and walks back inside. I look back at the mystery boy to find he isn’t there anymore. I sigh and join my grandparents inside.