Spain or Shine Read Free Page A

and cued up a Strokes song Caleb had downloaded for her. Maybe a little irreverent rock would slam some courage into her veins. A surge of frenetic drums blended with the rumble of the plane’s engine. The cabin began to jostle as the plane rolled down the runway. She closed her eyes, gripped the armrests, and thought, Here goes nothin.’

Chapter Two

    The first part of San Sebastián Elena spotted from the air was the shell-shaped beach, Playa de la Concha. It was a thin ribbon of sand laid in a half circle, with a dab of green land tucked in the mouth of the bay that opened out to sea. She’d read about this famous beach during the long plane ride from San Francisco to Madrid. The tour book her mom gave her explained that Playa de la Concha was a magnet for the Spanish and French alike due to its location at the northern tip of Spain, only a skip away from the French border. She imagined herself stretched out on the sand, lulled by the sound of water and wind. This was what she’d been dreaming about for months, and now she was actually here.
    Elena craned her neck for a better view of the beach below. She tried to be careful not to wake the boy next to the window who’d fallen asleep with his black baseball hat pulled down over his eyes. She wished she could fall asleep sitting up like that. Her muscles were twitching, she was so exhausted. She leaned forward a little closer to the window, but her forearm slipped and bumped into the sleeping guy’s arm. He mumbled and opened his eyes.
    â€œSorry,” she said, shrinking back in her seat. He waved off her apology affably and rubbed his eyes.
    â€œMan, I can’t wait to get out there,” he nodded toward the view from the window. “Doesn’t it look awesome from up here?” He looked at her expectantly.
    â€œAwesome,” she said.
    He bobbed his head as if she’d just said something profound. “Hey, I recognize you from the airport in San Francisco. You’re from California, too, huh?” He pushed his hat up slightly and peered out from beneath its brim.
    â€œYeah. I live in San Jose,” she said.
    â€œCool. I’m from Santa Cruz.”
    It didn’t surprise her that this guy was from a beach town. He wore a pale blue Hurley sweatshirt, and clumps of sea-crisped hair poked out from beneath his hat like dry yellow grass. He looked like the guys at her high school who would drive thirty minutes or more every weekend in search of the perfect wave. He wasn’t the kind of guy she normally hung out with, but the sight of him was familiar, and right now anything familiar was welcome.
    â€œI’m Alex,” he said.
    â€œElena. Nice to meet you.”
    â€œRight on,” he said, giving her a half nod, then glancing back at the window. “I can’t wait to ride those waves.”
    â€œYou’re a surfer?” she asked, though she was pretty sure she knew the answer.
    â€œYep. That’s what I’m here for.”
    â€œTo surf?”
    â€œYeah. Well, not just to surf. I mean, I can do that at home, right? The surf in San Sebastián’s going to be gnarly, but I’m really stoked about exploring a foreign country. My family’s big on travel. This summer my older brother Keith and I traveled all over California and Colorado—camping, hiking, climbing, that kind of stuff,” he explained. “What about you? Do you travel a lot?”
    Before Elena could tell Alex that her family had hardly left the Bay area, they were interrupted by the flight attendant announcing that they would be landing soon. Elena stole another glance at Alex. He was definitely cute, in a scruffy-beach-bum sort of way. But she was on the lookout for something else completely. She’d known boys like Alex all her life. She wanted to meet someone exotic. And an accent wouldn’t hurt. Accents were always sexy.
    â€œSo, dorm or family?” he asked once the flight attendant