New AttentionMature

                I didn’t sleep too well that night. It was too hot as the air con wasn’t on whilst we weren’t in the room, so I couldn’t have the covers on. Then when it got kick started, it was freezing with them off, and boiling with them on. It took me at least an hour to finally drift off, bunching up the quilt on one side to cuddle.

                I woke up starving hungry. Looking at my phone for the time on my bedside table, I saw my little brother running up and down by the end of the beds. It was about half 9.
                “C’mon Aly!” James squealed, coming down the small aisle that separated the beds, “Breakfaast!” he grinned wildly, pulling at my arm that was out of the covers.
                I groaned jokingly, then waved him away with my hand. “Alright alright,” I said, rubbing above my eyes, “go away, go see mummy or something.”
                No sooner than the words left my mouth, he ran to the door, leaving it open, and I heard him knock on the door next to us. There was a double bed and a single bed in each room, which worked out for me, I wanted a double bed.

My stomach groaned as we went inside the restaurant, which was set up with plenty of tables, a lot already full, and a massive buffet at the back. We sat down at a table in the middle, and dad and James went to go get food first.

                Not much sooner had they left, one of the waiters came over, asking for drinks, even though there was a small machine near the toast that had juices. Giving eye-contact when I spoke to people never really had an effect before, but I found when his eyes caught mine whilst I was talking to him, they stared deeply at me, and a hint of a smile caught his mouth as he saw my permanent one.
                My orange juice came back with a straw and an umbrella – no one else’s did. I also got a couple of intent glances from him every now and then, to which I smiled in return.

Reasonably happy with my little share of attention at breakfast, I switched on my iPod as I lay on the sun bed by the pool. Not so much as a heartbeat after the second song on my shuffle, the sun that was hitting my eyes shaded over.
                I unlocked the iPod and paused it, to look up at a shadowy figure at the foot of the sun bed. I recognised him from yesterday, playing the game down on the grass by the path. He had sunglasses on, stopping me from making my normal eye-contact, but it was good enough attempting to make eye-contact than staring behind him.
                “Hello?” He asked, in a slight Turkish accent. I knew he was questioning if I was English, so I replied with the same. He was holding three darts in his hand. Oh dear.
                “Would you come and play, killer darts with us?” he asked. I looked to my left, and saw my dad sat on a bed beside me,
                “Uh, yes, okay.” He said, in a slight accent for no reason, as if it would make it easier to understand. I sighed internally. For two reasons. My dad’s theory of speaking in a weird accent of no particular country making it easier for non-English people to understand. For another, I was hopeless at throwing, I’d never played darts in my life.
                “Okay,” He carried on, “We’ll be starting over there in about 10 minutes, I’ll see you there!” he said, turning to point behind him across the pool, and turning back with a smile, and walked on past to rally more people.
***

                “Urgh!” I whined, stepping quickly on the hot floor towards the area this guy had indicated at a few minutes, “It’s hot! I can’t believe you’re making me play darts.” I pouted and narrowed my eyes at my dad playfully.
                “Stop whinging!” he replied, “Cool off.” He said, and shoved me in the pool before I could figure out what he meant. I spluttered as I resurfaced, and swam to the other side. Dad had already pulled me out a chair from in front of the stage where at least a hundred tables with 3 chairs each were set out in front.
                I sat down, dripping wet, in front of the dart board, about 12 people sat behind or beside me. I barely recognised any languages around me whilst a few of them were talking amongst each other.

                I felt a tickling of fingers run across my shoulders, and squealed. The entertainer had come back from trying to get people and walked to the little whiteboard at the front.
                His skin was beautifully olive-tanned, and smooth over toned arms and legs. He had pretty much black hair, which was gelled up in two large spikes, which I found strangely cute, though I could tell I wouldn’t think it could look good on anyone else. He was wearing the entertainer sort of ‘uniform’ of a yellow shirt and blue shorts that covered his knees, with a pair of white trainers.
                He turned to face me smiling, still wearing sunglasses, and asked the girl beside me her name. Then me, “Lyssa” I replied, I said it in a hurry, and so I didn’t say my full name, stupidly.
                “Lisa..” he ‘repeated’, starting to write it out on the board,
Alyssa” I said again, exaggerating the pronunciation of the sounds. He turned and gave me the expression that said told me; ‘What in the hell are you saying to me?’ I laughed and stood up, walking towards the board. I held my hand out for the pen, with a smirk on my face. He grinned and placed it in my palm. Rubbing out the beginnings of ‘Lisa’ with my forefinger, I took off the lid and wrote my name in big letters.
                “Ah. Alyssa.” He said, although it sounded strange in his accent, which I felt instantly charmed by, adding to my strongly growing appeal for this man;  I thought to myself that the girls I knew back home would be giggling like little schoolgirls behind me, if they saw how he’d been acting around me.

                The game, for me, didn’t go so well. Anyone who knew how to play killer darts – or could even throw a dart to stay on the board – would say so too. I wasn’t the first to be ‘killed’, but when I finally failed, I got pulled up to the front.
                “Ahh!” The instructed sighed, and waved his hands up for everyone else to say so too, “Lyssa didn’t get there. How old are you?” he asked, his arm, I noticed, around my waist pulled tight. All the other players had been pulled up when they were ‘killed’, but I didn’t notice them embraced like this.
                “Uh, 16.” I said quickly. This wasn’t quite true.
                “Almost!” I heard my dad shout out after me, “Almost 16!” Oh boy. I felt myself flush pink and grow hot.
                The entertainer just laughed ,“Ah, so young. Go back and sit down Alyssa.” He said, sliding his arm slowly from my waist, nudging me a little to sit down. I did.

The End

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