After Summer (3 page)

“You’re not even listening to me!” George gasped, pretending to be outraged. He stopped dead in the middle of the high school corridor, and Beth had to haul him out of oncoming traffic before he was trampled.

“I just came up with the most fantastic idea for a new television series
ever,
” George continued, not seeming to notice that Beth had just saved him from certain death by student stampede. “You were
pretending
to listen, but you weren’t at all. You didn’t even
laugh.
If I didn’t know such a thing was impossible, I might think you were bored with the G-Man.”

“I
was
listening, George,” Beth insisted, shifting her heavy pile of textbooks from one sore arm to the other. Her daily swim practices made her muscles ache. All her hard work had
paid off; Beth had made the swim team. She and George had celebrated over chili dogs and Cokes in town, and now Beth was knee-deep in her regular practices. “But if I don’t get these into my locker like right now, my arms might fall off.”

“And now you’re changing the subject.” George trailed after Beth as she hurried along the hall. “Evasive tactics won’t work. You’re busted.”

“I heard every word you said,” Beth told him, over her shoulder and without slowing her stride. “And I think you’re crazy.”

“Because I could tell you weren’t paying attention to my amazing idea that will make us a trillion dollars?”

“Because no one is going to pay you anything, much less a trillion dollars, to make
George: The Televised Years.
” Beth grinned at him as they approached her locker, and propped her books up with her knee while she wrestled to open the metal door. “Trust me on this.”

“I think there’s market demand,” George said, leaning back against the next locker over and shoving his hands in his pockets.

Beth felt herself weaken when she looked at him. His curly hair went every which way, and he’d acknowledged the cold snap outside with a long-sleeved T-shirt beneath the short-sleeved political one, with a donkey wrestling an elephant, which was his current favorite. He felt Beth’s eyes on him and smiled.

“What?” he asked.

“You’re pretty much looking at the market for George,” Beth replied. “In its entirety. I hate to break it to you.”

“You say that now,” George retorted, unfazed. “But I bet you’ll change your tune when I come up with a screenplay of such genius that I’ll have every director in Hollywood on the phone.”

“When that happens, I’ll definitely change my tune,” Beth agreed. She zipped her books into her backpack and slammed her locker shut. “In fact, I solemnly swear that the day Hollywood directors start calling you, I’ll
serenade
you from the highest building in Martin. I’ll even climb up there myself.”

George’s dark eyes fastened on hers, and Beth felt a shiver trail along her skin. She knew they were both thinking of last summer, when Beth had proven her love to George by climbing up to a rooftop in Pebble Beach and shouting her true feelings into the night sky, in complete defiance of her paralyzing fear of heights.

George moved closer and pulled Beth to him, his warm lips teasing her neck.

“That ended up being the best night of the summer,” he said, holding her tight.

Beth felt guilt wash over her. Because she knew that night hadn’t started off as “the best” or even close. The truth
was, Beth wouldn’t have had to prove her love to George if she hadn’t risked it all—with a lifeguard named Adam.

Here in the hallway of their high school, in George’s arms, Beth couldn’t believe any of that had ever happened.

“That was definitely the best night of the summer,” she agreed, squeezing him.

“Almost worth the crap that came before,” George said. His tone was light, but there was a distance in his eyes that Beth hated. She didn’t know what to say so she kissed him, apologizing once more with the touch of her mouth against his.

“I was thinking I would get right to work on my Oscar-winning screenplay,” George murmured, running his hands along her arms. “But before I get down to the writing, I think I need food. Want to grab a burger?”

“I can’t,” Beth replied with a sigh. “I have swim practice.” She knew the little shiver of joy that still coursed through her when she thought about the fact she’d made the team would fade, but it hadn’t happened yet.

“What do you mean?” George asked, knitting his brow. “It’s not even three o’clock yet. You don’t have to be at practice until six. You have three entire hours.”

He was right, but that meant Beth only had those three hours to go for a run, do her homework, eat dinner, appease her mother with some long-overdue chores, and drive the
forty-five minutes into Boston to make it to practice on time. And sometimes the drive took more than an hour and a half at that time of day. There was no way she could hang out with George.

She looked over at him to tell him so.

“I can hear what you’re thinking,” George said, his expression bright. “But you have to eat, don’t you? And we both know that if I don’t make you eat with me, you’ll do something else instead and you’ll forget. And nobody likes an Olsen twin.”

Beth felt herself waver. Lately, she hadn’t been seeing George as much as she’d like, not with the new swim team coaches taking over her life. That was how they’d introduced themselves: “
We’re here to take over your lives,
” they’d said that first day. “
If you have a problem with that, don’t waste our time—just go.
”

Beth had stayed, of course. And she’d learned pretty quickly that the coaches weren’t kidding.

Their names were Katy and Lance. As the rumors had indicated, they were students at Boston College and the hardest coaches Beth had ever encountered in all her years of athletics. She thought on many occasions that she hated them, and yet had the perverse desire to please them—which was how she knew they were doing the coaching thing right.

But none of that has to do with George or being in love,
she thought then as they stared at each other next to her locker. She’d nearly let their relationship slip away over the summer, and she wasn’t about to do it again.

She would run six miles tomorrow, she vowed, to make up for not running her three miles today. She might have to start getting up even earlier if she was going to get a daily run in, the way Katy had recommended. And her mom could wait a little bit longer for Beth to help put away the summer clothes. Finally, it wouldn’t be the first time she’d stayed up past midnight to finish her homework, or cut her first-period health class to get it done the next morning.

And she’d be getting a burger and George in the deal, which outweighed all the rest.

“Okay,” she told George, loving the way he looked so delighted at her answer, in that fully happy way only he could get, from his sparkling eyes down to the way his legs practically vibrated with excitement.

“
Exx-cellent,
” he said, drawling out the word. “I think I speak for myself and the beef industry when I say you made the right choice.”

Beth hurried across the wet pool deck, tucking the last strands of her blonde hair up under her swim cap. She was late. She and George had gotten burgers and fries and then spent way too long making out in the parking lot. Beth felt herself flush, almost as if his mouth was still on hers, his
hands on her skin. Her heart was still pounding. Beth laughed to herself and adjusted the stiff Lycra cap.

If there was anything uglier than a swim cap, Beth didn’t know what it was. Except possibly a Speedo racer-back one piece. Her cousin Ella would keel over and die if she ever saw Beth wearing both at once.

Thinking about Ella made Beth grin. She couldn’t believe she had to wait until Thanksgiving to see all her cousins in one place.

“Tuttle.” Coach Katy held a clipboard and was wearing an incredulous expression as Beth approached. “You’re fifteen minutes late.”

“Um.” Beth felt herself flush again. With embarrassment this time. “I’m sorry.”

She was normally self-assured around other athletic types, but something about Katy made Beth feel like an idiot. Maybe she was a little intimidated. Beth let Ella do the worrying about which girls were cute and which girls wore the right clothes. Beth was the only Tuttle who could look at another girl and see that her sleek muscles and powerful legs meant she could—and probably would—completely kick Beth’s ass.

Okay, maybe she was a
lot
intimidated.

“I’m sorry,” Beth said again, her voice soft.

“Don’t be sorry,” Katy snapped. “Just don’t be late. We
have a huge meet coming up. You should be in the water working your butt off, or you shouldn’t be on the team.”

“I understand,” Beth said, feeling chastened, and kind of furious. More specifically, with George.

“Then
get in the water
!” Katy retorted, pointing at the pool. She shook her head in amazement.

Beth threw her towel on the bleachers, and got into a lane as fast as she could. Once she’d slipped into the rhythm of her warm-up strokes, her embarrassment faded. She began to breathe evenly, stretching farther with each arm.

Katy probably thought she was a moron. Great.

Beth hated being yelled at—but even more than that, she hated giving her coaches a reason to yell at her in the first place. Lance and Katy had been perfectly clear about how unacceptable they thought being late to practice was. No tardiness. End of discussion.

“Swim team is either a priority or it’s not,
” Lance told them at almost every practice. “
If you’re late, you’re sending us a message about your commitment level. We’ll send one back. Trust me.”

I shouldn’t have gone out with George.
The words, heavy with regret echoed in Beth’s head. And as hard as she swam, she couldn’t get them out.

“What are you having for lunch?” Jeremy asked over the phone. His voice was low and sounded like he was smiling. If Ella closed her eyes, she could imagine the crook of his mouth and the light in his big dark eyes.

She could pretend he was there.

Until she opened her eyes again and found herself walking across the quad in Connecticut, surrounded by falling leaves, talking to her boyfriend on the phone. Alone.

“Diner food,” she said, adjusting her book bag. “Why?”

“I wish we were having lobster rolls together down at Red’s in Wiscasset,” Jeremy replied. “I mean, how awesome would it be to hop in the car and take a drive there together right now?”

Ella sighed wistfully. “That
would
be awesome.” Last
summer, she and Jeremy had taken that road trip a few times together. Red’s had the fattest, most delicious lobster rolls in the whole state of Maine. They’d order two (his with mayo, hers with melted butter) and a side of fries to split. Then, they’d find an open table on the back deck and eat in the sunshine while the boats passed through the harbor, their knees touching under the rickety table.

At the end of summer, they’d driven down one last time and got the very last rolls of the season, right before Red’s boarded up for the fall. It was a bittersweet moment, and with all the tables packed away, they’d had to find seats out on the weathered wooden planks of the pier. It was a quiet meal, save for the times Jeremy kissed away a trickle of melted butter from the corner of her mouth. Ella would giggle uncontrollably and push him away. But then things got quiet again, both of them heavy with the notion that they’d be parting ways for the next few months.

The memory of Red’s reminded Ella that Jeremy was worth doing the long-distance thing for.

He was worth waiting for. Wasn’t that what she’d learned over the summer?

“I also ask because
I’m
having a hoagie and I have to tell you, it’s very disappointing,” Jeremy continued in that casual way he had. “The bread-to-cheese ratio is way off, and I won’t even get into the meat.”

Ella could hear Jeremy’s high school cafeteria noise in
the background, and wrinkled her nose. Thank God she was an upperclassman, and could avoid the revolting industrial food altogether.

“In the history of hoagies,” Jeremy continued, “this one might be the worst. Like, ever.”

“I get to go off campus for lunch,” she bragged. “If you were here, I could pick you up something tasty.”

Today, Ella couldn’t get off St. Augustine’s grounds fast enough. Sister Margaret Alice had jumped all over her in study hall (like Ella could be expected
not
to apply Stila lip gloss when she had a free moment), and Ella was in dire need of a break from school.

“You’re cruel,” Jeremy told her, affection in his voice.

Ella held her cell phone to her ear with one hand, and looked for oncoming traffic as she ran across the street. Deciding to risk it, she completely misjudged the distance, bringing traffic to a halt. She wiggled her fingers and sent a naughty smile to the driver of the first car, an older guy in a sedan. He waved back at her, obviously dazzled.

Yes. Ella Tuttle was the kind of girl who regularly stopped traffic.

“Can’t help it.” Ella laughed, popping a piece of Dentyne Ice gum in her mouth. She’d always been a chain-chewer, but had gotten more addicted since quitting smoking.

Outside the diner, Ella paused as Jeremy’s voice became more intimate.

“I miss you,” he said. “We haven’t talked in so long.” There was a longing in his voice that Ella instantly recognized from the night they’d said a special goodbye to each other. The most special goodbye a girl and boy could share.

It had been the next-to-last night of the summer, humid and still. They had walked hand in hand down Peachtree Road toward the beach. The moon was a sliver in the clear sky. Jeremy had a beach blanket tucked under his arm, and he spread it out on the still-warm sand.

She took his hand and let him pull her down. They started kissing, their lips hot, their hands warm. They tangled themselves in each other’s arms and legs, holding on so tight Ella could barely breathe. She knew he wanted her, and she wanted him more than anything. Had wanted him all summer. It was the perfect moment for Ella to shine, brighter than even the stars overhead, and Jeremy let her take control. She pulled his soft shirt up over his head, undid the button on his jeans. Just the thought of his taut stomach in the moonlight gave her the chills. Everything had happened so quickly, so perfectly.

“I miss you, too.” She transferred the phone from one ear to the other and looked through the glass window of the diner. If only they didn’t live so far apart, nights like that first one could happen all the time. If only.

In the diner, Marilee was seated in one of the booths,
surrounded by a pack of boys from St. Augustine’s. One of whom was the sexy new guy, Ryan.

Through the window, Ella watched as Marilee shot a straw wrapper across the table, making sure she leaned forward and exposed a flash of cleavage. Ella could see the effect it had on Ryan. He grinned and said something that made Marilee toss her hair and laugh.

It was such a patented Ella move that Ella was a little bit surprised no one was calling Marilee on it. Not that Ella thought her friend shouldn’t be just as flirtatious as she wanted to be, it was just…Ella was used to being the flirtatious one.

Something weird washed over Ella then. Some emotion she couldn’t exactly place, but it made her stomach hurt a little bit.

“Are you okay?” Jeremy asked.

For a moment, Ella didn’t know what to say.

“I’m fabulous,” she assured Jeremy.

“I know you’re fabulous,” Jeremy was saying. “It’s eighty-seven percent of what I think about all day. Call me later this afternoon, you promise?”

“Okay, baby,” Ella purred. She snapped the phone shut and immediately felt guilty. She had Jeremy. What did she need a bunch of Catholic schoolboys for when she had the real thing?

Ella slid her phone into her bag and threw open the door
to the diner, because standing around outside was making her feel like a huge loser.

She paused in the doorway, letting the rush of air mess up her hair a little bit, knowing perfectly well that she made quite the pretty picture as she stood there. She knew the light made her blonde hair shine, and her legs were still tan and supple. Her usual uniform modifications, she was also well aware, drew even more attention to her assets.

Satisfied, Ella ambled over to Marilee’s booth. She leaned her hip up against the table and waited for everyone to stop fawning all over Marilee and look up at her instead. It didn’t take long.

“Hi Ella,” Marilee said, sounding both amused and resigned.

“Is there room for me?” Ella asked, in a teasing voice, because she expected them to make room for her—and they did.

Marilee rolled her eyes.

“There’s always room for you, Ella,” Ryan told her and patted his lap.

“I’m good over here,” she told him, flouncing a little bit as she sat down.

“That,” Ryan said with a smile, “I can see.”

Ella lounged across the table from him, and watched him as he lounged in the same careless fashion.

“I hear you were one step away from military school,” she said.

Ryan’s mouth kicked up into a smile. “You, too, from what I hear,” he said.

They smiled at each other, acknowledging their similarities.

“Hey, Ella?” Marilee interrupted in a sugary voice that got Ella’s attention at once. Ella turned to look at her and saw a flash of resentment in her friend’s eyes. “Is your boyfriend coming up this weekend or next?”

“I don’t know, Marilee,” Ella replied, shooting her friend a look that should have incinerated her on the spot. Couldn’t Ella even
talk
to Ryan?

“I can’t wait to meet him,” Marilee went on with a sigh. “The guy who finally got the legendary Ella Tuttle to settle down. He must be something.”

Ella clenched her fists. But then she wondered why she was getting so angry. After all, Jeremy really
was
something. And Ella shared something with him that Marilee couldn’t begin to understand.

“It’s true,” she said, smiling and settling back in her seat as she thought of their earlier conversation. “He’s pretty amazing.”

Marilee bit her lip, clearly not expecting that response. As Marilee turned to answer another boy’s question, Ryan cleared his throat and leaned toward Ella.

“A boyfriend, huh?” Ryan smiled thoughtfully. “Too bad.”

Ella shrugged nonchalantly. “Not for me.”

“I would have to disagree,” he said.

Ella found herself watching him as he played with the napkin in front of him, folding it into some sort of origami shape with his long fingers.

“Thanks for caring,” she said. She tried to keep the flirtatious lilt out of her voice but, whatever, it was the only voice she had.

“That’s what friends are for,” Ryan said

Then he slid the origami creation across the table, and continued to watch her with those fiery eyes. Ella looked at the little bird for a moment and then reached over to scoop it up.

She saw Ryan smile triumphantly, and wondered what she’d gotten herself into.

But then she relaxed.

It was just a napkin. Ryan was just a flirt.

Ella could handle it.