Free Cruel Summer by James Dawson Page B

– RYAN
     
     
     
     
    T he sand was red hot under his feet. It was almost too intense to bear, burning like hot coals. Ryan had two choices – run forward to the
cooler sand near the surf, or go back to the villa and get some flip-flops. As he was carrying one end of a pool lounger, he opted for option A and kept going.
    ‘Christ, this sand is hot!’ he yelped at Roxanne, who held the other end.
    ‘Run for it!’ Roxanne squealed with a giggle, and he was reminded that once upon a time it had all been fun and games. In TV terms, Roxanne had been introduced in the third season to
spice up flagging ratings. She was a stunning blonde with a hedonistic streak to rival Alisha’s. That was sort of the problem – perhaps the two girls had been too similar, trying to
occupy the same niche like red and grey squirrels. And look how well that had worked out for the red squirrel.
    Unlike Alisha though, Rox was, and always had been, selfish. A ride on the Rox Train was sure to be the night of your life, but it was always rolling in the direction she wanted to head.
    Looking at her now, Ryan could only hope her travels abroad had matured her. ‘Is this a good spot, do you reckon?’ he asked.
    ‘Yeah, it’ll work. Ryan, you should have seen the beaches in Thailand. They are, like, seriously swoon-worthy.’ For a moment her eyes misted over. ‘I missed you this
year.’ She seemed genuine.
    ‘Yeah. It’s been a funny old year,’ he replied, also honestly.
    Just like that, the sentimentality left her, drifting away like the wisps of cotton-wool cloud overhead. Rox smiled. ‘Oh, let’s not get all “Camp Boo-Hoo”!’
    There was the Rox Ryan remembered. He looked up to see Alisha marching down the stone steps with purpose, making a beeline for them. He lowered the lounger, wishing he had a dart gun like a
safari ranger – he might need to use it on one or both of his friends. ‘Rox, Alisha’s coming . . .’
    ‘Good. We should clear the air.’
    Ryan fixed her in a steel-trap glare. ‘Roxanne Dent, I want you to play nice.’
    ‘I always do,’ she said with mock innocence. She perched herself on the lounger and waited for her rival with bored nonchalance, as if she were freaking Cleopatra.
    Alisha reached their position. Behind her, Greg and Ben carried another lounger, while Erin held a cooler. Katie trotted beside Alisha, struggling to keep up. Roxanne didn’t stand to greet
her foe. She reclined on the lounger. If she was scared of Alisha, her body language didn’t give that impression.
    Alisha stood over her, casting a shadow. ‘I’m sorry about that. I lost it.’ For once, Ryan was happy to stand back and be a passive viewer. This scene had been a long time
coming: Alisha vs Rox – The Showdown.
    Roxanne shielded her eyes with one hand. ‘It’s OK. I thought you knew I was coming.’ Next to Alisha, Katie winced.
    Alisha threw down her beach towel and sat on it. Katie sat alongside, lending moral support. Ryan stood in the surf, cooling his feet.
    Alisha finally spoke. ‘I know. I’m not happy, though, Rox.’
    ‘Look. I handled things really badly but it all feels like a hundred years ago. Can we move on, Lish?’ Roxanne tossed her artfully tousled waves over her head. ‘I missed you
guys. If I’ve learned one thing on my travels, it’s this: boys come and go, but friends are forever.’
    Spoken like a true boyfriend-stealer,
thought Ryan. There was something odd about Roxanne’s delivery – it was oddly fake and stagey, even for her.
    Alisha took a deep breath. ‘What about Cal? Did he . . . come and go?’
    Roxanne giggled. ‘Ha! Yeah. Things fell apart as soon as we got to Thailand. We just didn’t get on. I went off to Goa and left him there. I think he was planning on going to
Sydney.’
    Ben and Greg caught up, dropping the last of the loungers onto the sand.
    ‘You OK, Lish?’ Greg, protective as ever, cast a wary eye over the conversation.
    ‘Yeah,’ Alisha said. Even