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The unyielding Caribbean sun is bringing forth every single one of Phoebe’s freckles. Dani watches as she comes out of the pool laughing and gasping for air, just having done as many underwater flips as she could do in one breath, and Phoebe could almost be moving in slow motion for how lovestruck Dani feels. The drops of chlorinated water rest on that freckled skin and Dani wants to kiss it off like she did the salty water from the sea that morning.
The difference is that they had been alone that morning. They’d found an empty patch of sea with some rocks blocking them from unwanted eyes. It had been so early that the other YouTubers they’re on this trip with were still sleeping— so early that Phoebe was complaining about the pre-dawn dark and the cold. But stopped complaining once Dani kissed the tiredness away and warmed her by wrapping her arms around Phoebe’s waist tight under the gentle waves.
It was only a few hours ago. When Dani submerges herself in the water for her own attempt at as many flips as she can manage, the sun is high in the sky and the pool area of the resort feels like a different world.
They’re drying off by the long rows of lounge chairs when one of the other YouTubers walks by. “Jeeze, Phoebe, what’d you do to yourself?” he asks.
He’s pointing out a bitten bruise Dani had been sure would be covered by Phoebe’s one-piece swimsuit. Just under the back of her ribcage, but it’s peaking through where the swimsuit dips and looks so dark against Phoebe’s pale skin that Dani’s not surprised someone noticed it.
She should’ve had more self-control. She should’ve known better.
“Bumped into some rocks like the clumsy oaf I am,” Phoebe smiles. Dani knows her well enough to know she’s frazzled, but her poker face is convincing enough for the matter to be dropped after some laughter and warnings against broken bones.
*
They’re back in the room, changing into real clothes for the first time all day because the whole group is heading somewhere for dinner. Phoebe’s been getting away with throwing a skirt over her barely damp swimsuit, while Dani has been fighting with the horrible orange patterned coverup her nana bought when Dani told her about the trip. It’s not her style, not remotely, but it beats walking around in a bikini in places areas where bare ribs aren’t welcome. That doesn’t include a lot of places here, but enough for her to be conscious of it.
Phoebe’s been conscious of it too. She’s had more self-control than Dani— she’s left her tanned skin free of incriminating hickeys.
Dani watches Phoebe put on a t-shirt and feels a little safer.
*
Someone starts giving Dani shit at dinner, with a smile and in a teasing tone but with something rigid underneath. He knows the person who was unceremoniously uninvited from this whole adventure. And he figured out though some kind of grapevine that it was Dani’s fault.
“You got better tits than my buddy does, I’ll give you that,” he laughs. “Maybe that’s why they kicked him out.”
Dani isn’t all too sure what he’s talking about. But she sure as hell doesn’t like the way he’s saying it. Her hand shakes because she’s very tempted to throw the drink she’s holding in his face. Is there some kind of rule against that? Not just a social graces rule, but would the sponsor of this trip show up and tell her immediately to pack her bags if she did?
Before she can decide that she doesn’t actually give a fuck and throws the drink anyway, Phoebe’s voice pipes up.
“Leave her alone, that was all my fault,” she says. Her face is bright red, and not just from today’s sunburn. “I’m too much of a chicken to travel by myself, so I asked if Dani could tag along. I didn’t know it meant kicking someone else off.”
The guy seems to soften only a little bit at this. “Poor thing,” he pouts overdramatically. “I could’ve kept you company.” He leans forward a little. He winks.
Dani is only stopped from throwing her drink this time by the fact that Phoebe actually takes it from her hand. She’s seeing red. She’s not the fighting sort but she just might throw her first ever punch if this guy keeps it up.
“My hero,” Phoebe says flatly, taking a sip of the drink she’s taken from Dani and pulling out her phone. She looks like she’s answering a text, but after some seconds where the group’s conversation has moved on, Phoebe places her phone on the table between her and Dani. The notes app is open, and she’s written Deep breath. Count ten.
Dani does. It helps a little. Not quite enough. She’d still love to see that guy with a bruise somewhere on his smarmy face, but she’s past volunteering to provide it.
*
Dani and Phoebe are back by the pool after dinner. They’d considered the beach but the laziness of proximity won out. The sun is only just starting to approach the horizon— the sky is all oranges and gold.
Though she was a little hesitant to bring it up, Dani clears her throat while holding her hands under a floating Phoebe’s back and says, “Did you really kick some poor guy out for my sake?”
Phoebe laughs and sends a little splash of water Dani’s way. “I didn’t know they’d kick someone out. I just sent an email saying if Dani can’t come then thanks but no thanks.”
“Hotshot YouTube sensation, Phoebe Lester, making demands,” Dani tickles her sides underwater. It makes her tumble into herself, any attempt at floating wasted. They laugh and splash each other and try to catch their breath.
“I’ll have to try it more often,” Phoebe smiles. “I didn’t know I could throw my weight around like that and actually get what I wanted, not just be called a bitch.”
Dani makes a cursory glance of the pool area. Empty— everyone who might be here is either still eating dinner or down at the beach. She risks a quick peck on Phoebe’s lips, tasting of chlorine and the sangria she’d stolen earlier. “My business bitch,” she teases. Phoebe pinches her ribs and Dani doesn’t let herself worry if she’s pinching hard enough to leave any sort of mark.