“Yeah, we had a blast. But it was all for fun. We went as friends. No boning after,” he grinned.

“So you’ve never been on a real date?”

“Nope.”

“With neither man nor beast?”

“Not even yaks. I swear. I’ve never been on a date with anyone.”

His mention of yaks brought a smile to my face. Yak sodomites…that had been last year when he’d said it to bring me out of my emotional distress over Christos. Wow, my life had been as exciting as that amusement park inside Romeo’s head ever since I’d started at SDU.

“Wow, Romeo,” I sighed. “I’m totally surprised.”

“Me too. It’s pathetic actually. Don’t tell anyone. Even Kamiko doesn’t know. I tell her all those stories about cruising for men in Hillcrest so she won’t bug me about meeting someone.” He raised his eyebrows expectantly.

“Point taken,” I said. “I’ll stop bugging you about Justin.”

“Thank you. When I’m ready to date, I will. For now, I think I just like hanging out with you and the gang.” He wrapped one arm around my neck and tried to give me a noogie on top of my head.

“Stop, Romeo!” I cackled, pulling away. “You’re going to mess up my hair!”

He was laughing, but he let go and smiled at me. “Come on, Sam. Let’s get you to your car. I think you have some good news to share with Christos, right?”

I smiled at him. “Totally.”

“And don’t tell anyone about my dirty little secret.”

I crossed my heart. “I won’t. To me, you’ll always be the gayest gay on the planet.”

“And you’ll be the faggiest hag of all time,” he grinned.

We laughed together as we walked to my VW.

SAMANTHA

Finals week breezed by. I felt good going into my exams. Ever since Nikolos had hired me to help out in his studio, my life had balanced out better than I ever could’ve imagined.

When my third tuition payment for Spring Quarter had come due last month, Nikolos had insisted on loaning me the money. He said I could work full time during the summer. I wasn’t going to argue with him. I spent half the time at his studio watching him paint anyway. I’d learned a ton already.

I didn’t tell Nikolos that even if I worked full time all summer, I wouldn’t have any money left over to cover tuition payments in the fall, not after paying him back the money I owed him already.

I had no idea if my parents planned on signing my loan papers for next year or not. They were busy sweeping up the pieces of their broken marriage. I hadn’t heard much from them lately, but what was there for them to tell me? They were splitting up. So? Half the kids in America had already been through it. Whatever. I’d deal. And I’d figure out how to pay for next year’s tuition when the bills came due.

On Thursday of finals week, I walked into the lecture hall for American History 3. It was packed full of students anxious to start the test and get it over with.

I knew I had A’s in Plein Air Painting and Drawing the Costumed Figure from talking to my professors during office hours. And I suspected I would get an A or a B in Sociology 3 based on how well my final had gone. American History was the last hurdle before my first year in college was officially over!

When I flipped through the questions on the exam sheet, I felt a surge of confidence. I knew exactly what to write for my essay answers. My hours of cramming had paid off.

After only two hours, with an hour to spare, I closed my blue book with a smile. I knew I’d aced it. I strolled down to the bottom of the lecture hall and dropped my blue book on the small pile that had already formed on the table in front of the chalk board.

I couldn’t help myself. I had to do a happy dance. I squealed no louder than a mouse as I twirled around once before getting a hold of myself. I’m sure the students still writing wanted to concentrate.

The T.A. sitting behind the table smiled at me.

I smiled back before turning and walking up the stairs.

I grinned from ear to ear as I walked outside. The weather was absolutely perfect. The sun was high in the sky. It was probably seventy-five degrees. I wore shorts and a T shirt over my bikini top. Madison and I had been going to the beach every chance we got since the beginning of May.

I was tan from head to toe.

Welcome back to My Beach Life, set in San Diego, California, my favorite place on the planet! I was never going back to dreary Washington D.C.

I jumped in the air and screamed for joy. I was so excited! I’d made it through my first year in college!

“Hey, crazy girl,” Christos said, walking out of the shade beneath a tree beside the entrance to the lecture hall.

“Christos!” I jumped into his arms.

The last time Christos had been waiting for me outside of a final exam had been last December. At the time, I’d thought we were broken up. After Damian Wolfram, I thought I’d never find true love. How wrong I had been.

Christos gave my butt a good squeeze while he kissed me briefly. “How’d you do, agápi mou?” he asked, setting me back on the ground.

“Great! I totally aced my final!”

“I think we need to celebrate,” he said, flashing his dimpled grin.

“Hells yeah!” I cheered. “What did you have in mind?”

He opened his mouth to speak and his cell phone rang. “Hold on a second,” he smiled, fishing his phone out of his pocket. He looked at the screen. “I need to take this call.” He suddenly looked nervous.

“Okay,” I said hesitantly. His nervousness was catching. So much for celebrating.

Christos held the phone to his ear and said, “Hey!” as he walked toward the lawn across from the lecture hall. He obviously wanted privacy.

Not this again.

I was determined not to feel deflated, no matter what bad news he might have after he hung up.

Crap.

I looked skyward and started searching for silver linings. The blue sky was flawless and empty of all clouds. The only cloud in the area was the dark one inside Christos’ stupid phone.

I wanted to break that stupid thing.

CHRISTOS

“Russell!” I said as I answered the phone, trying to sound casual. “What up?”

Russell Merriweather chuckled on the other end of the line before he said a word. It was always good to hear from him, no matter what the news. “Christos, my boy, how have you been?”

“Awesome,” I said, grinning.

“Any more fights?”

“Not lately,” I chuckled. “But I seem to remember you saying something about being able to kick my ass. When are you going to back that shit up in the ring?” I was grinning as I said it.

He laughed, “You don’t want to mess with me, son. You know I throw bricks when I put the gloves on. I’ll break your face.”

“Bring your bricks,” I snickered. “They’ll be powder by the time I’m done hammering your ass.”

“Considering that thick head of yours is made of solid rock, you might have a point,” he chuckled. “But I suggest we keep your pretty face intact, for the sake of your lady friend Samantha. I like her a lot.”

“Yeah, she’s awesome,” I smiled. “So, what’s up? I know you didn’t just call to harass my ass.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Russell sighed. “I wanted to get you up to speed on the civil suit that your pal Hunter Blakeley is still waving over your head.”

Shit, I think I’d blocked it completely out of my mind. I’d been too busy with a thousand other things to give a shit about Hunter Fucking Blakeley and the bloody nose I gave him months ago. Besides, Russell was on top of things and I trusted him to handle it.

“And?” I prompted.

“And, my people didn’t have much luck with the wait staff at Hooters. Those girls remember you and Jake better than they did Hunter Blakeley and his pals. Apparently,” he chuckled, “you and Jake are excellent tippers.”