Cocktails in Costa Rica

 Brooke’s sneaker screeched against the vinyl tile flooring of the noisy cafeteria room as she shifted restlessly on the smooth laminate bench. She swirled a pasta noodle around her fork almost mindlessly; bringing it up to her nose for a sniff only to drop it once more into the heap of untouched chicken pasta on her lunch tray. Two thousand, in two months. The number almost seemed to be taunting her. That’s exactly how she felt after hearing the cost for the annual Easter break History class trip overseas. 

   This time, Mrs. Reid had announced the class would be traveling to the captivating tropical island of Costa Rica. Brooke was able to make last year’s trip to Puerto Rico with little effort because her mom hadn't just had her new baby brother and they weren't paying for her older sister Emmy’s braces then. They simply couldn't afford it this year though it sucked, Brooke understood those needs took precedence over her trip. Understanding didn't mean it hurt her any less though, to her it meant she had to be just a tad bit more creative to earn the money. So far, every idea that came to mind seemed to lunge way past the two month mark to earn two thousand dollars. She needed a solution. A fast one. 

  “Are you gonna eat that or just play with it?” Ava asked, sliding into the seat beside Brooke, her strawberry blonde hair bouncing off her shoulders. 

Brooke sighed. “I wish I could sell it, that’ll make me um-” she pressed a honey brown finger to her delicately squared jawline, “nowhere closer to afford to go on that trip.” 

Ava bit into her tuna sandwich, then carefully wiped away the juices from the corners of her mouth. “Have you talked to Mrs. Reid about a sponsorship from the History club?”

Brooked rolled her eyes. “Dead end.”

“I would ask my dad if you just give me the green light,” Ava said.

“Nah, that’s too much,” Brooked interjected. And it really was. The Cole’s had been more than generous to not just her, but her family as a whole. They’ve sponsored back-to-school shopping, Christmas dinners, even made payments so Brooke could attend Shenyeng Colorado’s most prestigious private school. She refused to let Mr. Cole bailed her family out of this one, even though he was one of the most prominent and affluent family lawyers in the state. She didn't want to lean on the Cole's, but she was very close to giving in. 

   Brooke found herself over the many years she had been best friends with Ava, a wee bit envious. She always had the nicest clothes, went on the fanciest vacations, dined at the fanciest restaurants. She on the other hand had to settle for her Emmy’s second hand clothing, had the option of her backyard or the neighborhood pool for her summer breaks and she dared not mention the choice between a fried chicken bowl and steak TV dinner was her version of a fancy dining experience. She was just about fed up with the fate that life had handed her. 

   “Do you know Brendan is going on the trip?” Ava’s voice pierced through her thoughts, her hazel brown eyes glistened with an undertone of mischief. 

“Don’t remind me,” Brooke groaned, shooting her eyes over Ava’s shoulder to the dark haired guy wearing a grey bomber jacket over a crisp white shirt; sitting with a group of three other guys completely engrossed in conversation. 

“Well let me remind you that Chloe will also be coming, picture Brendan and Chloe on a balcony in Costa Rica making out, oooh the visual is epic,” Ava chirped while taking a slurp of her orange juice. “Whatever you're doing, do it fast or that plane will leave you in this Colorado snow while the entire History class is basking in sand and island breeze in April.” 

Brooke knew this was true, she had to find a solution imminently. There was a hiss as someone at the table beside them opened a can of Coke.

    “One thing is certain, I don't want that ratchet, anywhere near me on that trip,” Ava gave out while squirming up her face and pointing over Brooke’s shoulder with her mouth. Brooke turned and followed her gaze. She saw Elena Jones sitting at a table by herself the way she normally does, typing away at her phone with a smile across her heavily made-up face. “Stop being so judgemental,” said Brooke while pushing the tray of cold, unappealing pasta to the side. 

“Why should I stop? Everyone knows what she is, she made the choice to do those things, so she should be able to handle the consequence of being an outcast,” Ava said haughtily as she finished the last of her tuna sandwich and rolled the greasy wrapper up in a ball. 

“All I’m saying is, nobody should judge,” Brooke shrugged.

 She knew the rumors associated with Elena, and they were just that. Rumors. No one had any proof, but at Preston Woods High, proof wasn’t a necessity when it came to a juicy rumor. Opinions formed facts, and those opinionated facts soared like wildfire. So nobody cared that no one has ever caught Elena being an escort, but that didn’t quell the rumors. Elena always seemed to handle it well though, she never seemed to mind being in her own company, nor did she mind not being invited to birthday parties, or sleepovers, she always seemed perfectly content; in her own world. 

“Anyway,” Ava began with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Do you want a lift over tomorrow or is your mom taking you?” 

Brooke ran a finger pressing the corners down on her smooth neck length chocolaty brown bob cut hair.  “I’ll drive dad’s car because mom has to pull a double at the hospital and Emmy will be over at Rob’s.” What Brooke really wanted to do was opt out of attending another one of Ava’s unnecessary pre-birthday parties. Apart from not understanding the logic of having one every year, she was also a little jealous because she hasn't received a birthday party since she made ten; and now she was making sixteen.

 “Ok, that’s settled. Maybe I can convince you to ask my dad-”

“Don't you dare,”  Brooke enunciated each word slowly. 

Ava threw her hands up in surrender while standing to her feet. “Fine, but don't find a way on that trip and Mr. Lover boy over there will be hot n’ heavy with a Ms. Chloe Roberts. I’m going to Mrs. Reid’s office to iron out a few deets about the trip. Can you survive the rest of lunch without me?” 

Brooke gave her an assuring smile, and with that, she strode through the white double swinging doors out the cafeteria. 

      Brooke placed the worn down Toyota Corolla into park a little way down from the Cole's white picket fenced home. She sprayed a few drops of perfume over her knee length, strapless red dress to mask the scent that the cigarette infused interior of her dad’s car left on her. The driveway was blocked with cars and the sound of music hummed its way onto the street. Brooke sighed before marching up to the driveway, checking her phone to see if she had received any messages. No new notification. 

    Walking through the front door she was greeted by the smell of hot dogs, popcorn and she thought she smelled a mix of chocolate and strawberry cake, but she couldn't be sure.  

  “Look who’s here,” she was greeted by Mr. Cole. Tall in height and physically fit, handsome in the face with a few laugh lines at the corners of his mouth and lips. He was a very handsome man. “I wouldn't miss it for the world,” she embraced him in a hug, face buried in the neck of his canary yellow polo shirt, taking in his natural, earthy scent. A mixture of sweat with some sort of vanilla fragrance. 

“Ava is somewhere in here, being Ava, and the food is in the kitchen...well you know where every room is,” his deep voice high, trying to be heard over the music. “I have to meet a client shortly, so i have to leave now.”  

Brooke smiled and nodded, then watched him disappear out the front door.  

  It was an hour into the party, Ava’s mom had retired to her bedroom and the party was now being run by the teens.  There were bits of pizza crust, hot dogs, and candy wrappers strewn across the living room floor. Ava was ushering everyone into the home theatre to watch a movie when a text notification chimed on Brooke’s phone. 

Client Available. Meet at Prodigy’s Restaurant and Lounge in twenty minutes. Your Name; Candy Apple. Will be seated at the far east back, wide window seat. Don't be late. 

Brooke breathed a shaky breath. It was happening.

“Who’s that?” Ava peered over her shoulders.

Brooke quickly snagged the phone out of view, while heading through the backdoor into the living room and towards the door. 

“Mom needs me, Ava, I have to go,” she called,  her wedge pump kicked a chocolate wrapper through the front door. It was carried by a light wind onto the lawn. 

“Call me when you get home,” Ava called from the porch. 

Brooked hastily waved her goodbye, then wobbled inside the car to get her composure in order.

    What Ava didn't know was that the text had come from Elena Jones.   

  Immediately after leaving her in the cafeteria, Brooke had apprehensively walked over to Elena. The two exchanged pleasantries right before Brooke had asked in a whisper if the rumors were true. Elena was taken aback, but not too much. She told Brooke it was not what others think it is, but she didn't mind the air of mystery that surrounded her at school. 

“What is it exactly that you do?” Brooke had probed her so hushed Elena barely heard her. 

“I go on dates with rich men in exchange for money; big money,” she emphasized while pressing her full lips together with an unperturbed smile.

“That’s all? Just dates? No um...nothing else?” Brooke mumbled under her breath. 

Elena had laughed, so loud, Brooke jolted in her seat. 

“Brooke Cortez, are you asking if I’m a prostitute?” Elena asked while jokingly folding her arms.

Brooke gave a sheepish smile. 

“No doll, I set the terms of these dates. I never give my real name or age, I choose the spot, and I state my price,”  she listed them off her fingers with an air of pride. 

   A few instructions later, Brooke told Elena she was strapped for cash and needed a step into the lifestyle. Elena told her she had a client available the following night, who was originally for one of her friends who came down with a stomach bug. Her heart pounding in her chest, Brooked agreed to the date. 

   Now here she was, driving across town in her dad’s beat-up car, about to meet a complete stranger for dinner. Don’t worry, you can almost get away with sitting through the entire dinner silent. Most of these guys are just lucky to not be anywhere near their nagging home body wives, and out staring at a beautiful young thing. Elena’s reassuring words, surface in her mind as she pulled into an empty parking space.

 “Costa Rica, Costa Rica,” Brooke repeated under her breath as she stepped through the smudge less revolving glass door of Prodigy’s. 

   The room was dimly lit. Soothing jazz music purred through the extent of the space, and the smell of gourmet food pervaded her nostrils. She glanced at her watch; ten thirty. She was on time. She quickly scanned the expanse of the room searching with almond-shaped brown eyes for a broad window seat to the back. Then she saw him.  Sitting, hands clasped and draped on top of the table, shooting a quick glance at his watch. The overhead light cast on his yellow polo shirt made it reflect a deeper yellow than it was. 

Mr. Cole. 

“What?” Brooke gasped almost inaudibly to herself. His back was turned in her direction, but the square of his back, matching shirt he left the house earlier in and unique black hair peppered with swatches of gray were unmistakably her best friend dad’s. Brooke slowly backed away from where she was standing, panic set in that he might turn around at any second and saw her standing there. She hid behind the coat check stand deliberating whether to run for the door or stay and make a bold move. “Breathe girl breathe,” she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and stepped tentatively towards the window seat.

  Mr. Cole's eyes gaped as Brooked approached the table and his mouth opened to speak but closed, unable to find the words. “B-B-Brooke,” he stammered while starting to stand. “Oh sit down Carter,” she slid the chair on the opposite side open and sat. 

Mr. Cole hesitantly sat while nervously eyeing the couple next to their table who had questioning looks on their faces. He offered a tight smile. 

“What are you doing here?” he turned his hazel eyes to Brooke.

“Better question,” Brooke began while admiring her red matte polished nails,” what are you doing here?”

Mr. Cole cleared his throat. “Me-meeting a client,” he stuttered once more. 

Brooke felt panic settling over her again but quickly shook it off. 

“What’s the name of your client?” her dark eyes challenged his. 

“Um, Dav-”

“Candy-Apple?” she cut him off, a teasing look crept at the corners of her mouth. 

He let out a deep sigh. Brooke knew the type. Her father had given many of those behind her mother’s back. A light clink of cutlery against plate made its way from the table across from them.  

“What do you want Brooke?” Mr.Cole’s voice lacked the familiar tone of comfort and security she was familiar with. 

What do I want? Brooke considered the question for a moment. 

She wanted her own bedroom. She wanted parents who didn't have to work so hard to make ends meet. Right now more than anything she needed to leave the blistering Colorado snow coming Easter. 

“I need three thousand dollars,” she blurted out before even thinking, her eyes wide wondering if he would take the bait. 

“You're blackmailing me? After everything, my wife and I have done for your family?”

“Your wife,” Brooke echoed his words. “I’m sure Ava and Mrs. Cole would love to know what you've been up to tonight...on her pre-birthday party night.”

“Fine,” Mr. Cole sighed. “I’ll have the money ready by Monday morning,” he said while rising to his feet. 

She couldn’t believe he caved that easily. “Six,” she couldn't stop the words again. She didn't try to.   

“Excuse me, young lady?” Mr.Cole, disbelief evident in the raising of his brow as he towered over her.

“Six thousand dollars,” Brooke weaved her fingers together and didn't break his gaze. 

He gave a short, crisp laugh while sitting down once again. 

“If you weren't swindling me, I would be totally impressed right now. Fine. You’ll have it all on Monday. No mention of this to Ava though,” he paused,“or my wife.” 

“Mums the words,” Brooke said while motioning a zipped mouth with her fingers. 

“All this for a few cocktails in Costa Rica huh?” he licked the dryness from his lips while standing to his feet once more. 

“I’m curious Carter, do you do this regularly?” Brooke squinted from the reflection of the overhead light while looking up at him. 

“Don’t say anything about this to anyone,” he warned, ignoring her question. 

Brooke wasn't offended.

“Goodnight young lady,” he said while walking off. Brooke watched him walk through the rows of tables to the right, passed the coat checking rack, then the hue of yellow shirt and khaki pants disappeared through the glass doors. She breathed a deep sigh which sent a shiver down her spine. 

Did I really just pull that off? She asked herself while bursting into a small incredulous laugh which attracted the stares of the couple at the table to her left. Sorry, she mouthed apologetically, as she stood to her feet and made her way to the restaurant's exit. 

   After a quick drive home, Brooke parked the car in the garage and checked the text message she received while driving. It was Elena. 

How did it go? Was her inquiry. 

Brooke clicked out of her inbox, deciding there was a much more pressing message she needed to send. She quickly navigated the screen to the 'create a new message' tab and selected Ava.

I guess I am going to Costa Rica after all,  my daddy came through with the money. She hit send, then slipped out of the car with a content smile spread across her lips and headed into the warm interior of her home.