Interrupted (7 page)

Just after the thought drifted though my mind, voices floated from the direction of the party. Someone was coming this way.

I groaned and waded back to shore, muttering under my breath.

“Allie!” Samuel shook his hair again and tried to run after me, the water slowing him down. “Are you okay? Did you get water up your nose or something?” He grabbed my shoulder and attempted to turn me toward him.

Heat seeped through my body. I whipped around and pushed him hard in the chest. “That’s for making me get in the water,” I spat.

He flailed and fell backward, his hand still on my shoulder. I tumbled with him, back into the ice-cold water.

This time we both came up at the same time, sputtering for air.

“I’m sorry, Allie,” Samuel was saying, trying to pull me up out of the water. For a few seconds we were caught in a strange balancing act as we both attempted to climb to our feet. “I’m so sorry.”

And then it hit me. “Sam Carroll?” I steadied myself and took a step back. Time stood still as the years came rushing back over me.

Sam looked nervous. He licked his lips and nodded. “Yeah.”

I stared at him in silence. It made sense. The blue eyes. The dark hair. The way he watched me and teased me and smiled at me. The fact that I didn’t really hate him, despite the fact he nearly drowned me.

I took another step back, aware all over again of how wet and dirty I was. “What are you doing here?”

How did he find me? After all these years?
I wasn’t sure whether to be angry or happy. Surprised, yes. Even a little scared.

Sam kicked a little splash in the water. “My aunt Rachel lives here. So I thought I’d visit for the summer.”

“Did you know I was here?”

“Well, yeah.” Sam looked up and caught my gaze, looking both embarrassed and amused. “I mean, Aunt Rachel mentioned you were her neighbor. And that she’d seen you.”

I blinked. “But I didn’t know about you.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Sam smiled slowly.

Just like his aunt to spring this on me
. I shivered. How could I not have seen it?

“Allie?” I looked up to see Beatrice standing on the shore, staring at us with a mixture of shock and concern.

I jumped away from Sam and tried to peel my soaking-wet dress away from my body. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry …” I stumbled, my face heating up. “This is … um …”

“Samuel.” Beatrice’s mouth twitched. “We met a few minutes ago, remember?”

Of course it’s Sam Carroll
. I tried to compose myself. “Yes, Sam. We were swimming. In the ocean. It’s not bad, actually. A little … wet … but … not bad.” I bit my lip and half-swam, half-waded to shore.

“You were laughing.”

“What?” I looked at Beatrice. Was everyone going crazy?

“I heard laughter, so I came to see what was happening. You were snorting water out of your nose.” She seemed strangely calm.

I reached up to smooth down my hair and attempted to look composed. “Yes, well … Sam was just …”

Beatrice smiled at Sam and shook his hand more warmly. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Sam. I do hope we’ll see you again this summer.”

I pulled on my shoes and grabbed my notebook. This was just way too awkward. I flopped my hat on top of my dripping head and trudged back up the hill toward the party.

Beatrice went on to exclaim, “To think you’ll be living practically next door to us! Allie, this is wonderful! Allie?” She raised her voice as I got closer to the festivities. “Allie! Allie, don’t you dare go back there looking like that!” I turned to see her looking back at Sam. “Do come for supper one night. And tell your aunt I said good-bye.” Then she ran after me, practically yelling, “Allie! Allie, come back here!”

I
could still feel my cheeks burning as Beatrice drove in silence. Sam Carroll. I had never been so humiliated in my life. Why, I bet he knew who I was the whole time and was just toying with me as revenge for how I used to treat him.

I pulled the blanket around me closer. And after that last thing I said to him too. I basically accused him of my mother’s death by saying she’d still be alive if he wasn’t there.

Shame at those words seeped over me.
Ugh, I could just die right now
.

“You didn’t have to be so rude,” Beatrice said. “All I said was that he made you laugh. No one makes you laugh. You can’t blame me for pointing it out.”

I sighed. “That was Sam.”

“I know. And he’s staying with his aunt Rachel for the summer. I was listening, you know.”

I groaned and leaned my cheek against the car window. “No, no, Beatrice, that was
Sam
. Sam
Carroll
. I grew up with him.”

“And you just stood there bumbling while the poor boy was forced to introduce himself like a complete stranger?” Beatrice’s eyebrows shot up.

“I hadn’t seen him since the funeral. I didn’t recognize him, so he
was
a complete stranger.” I sighed. I was such a fool.

Beatrice glanced over at me. “So did he recognize you?”

I groaned. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay, okay. Sorry.” Beatrice tapped the steering wheel for a few seconds. “So was he a mean kid?”

“No, he just … He wasn’t mean. He was nice.” I snuggled into the blanket. “And smart. He was just …” I trailed off again. He was just Sam. I turned to Beatrice and chewed my lip. “He came from a perfect home, you know? It was like he had everything he’d ever need.” I grimaced “He followed me around everywhere.”

“So you were friends.”

“No, I … It was nothing.” Why did I think she’d understand? Why did I think anyone would understand my complicated life?

I could tell Beatrice had more questions by the way she looked at me, but she remained quiet for the rest of the car ride.

“Beatrice!” I shouted, grabbing a light sweater from the coatrack by the door. “I’m going out for a soda. Be back in an hour!” I
slammed the door behind me and climbed into Beatrice’s car, humming to myself.

I pulled out of the driveway as I heard Beatrice calling from the steps.
She won’t mind if I only take it for a little hour-long ride
. I resisted the urge to look behind me.

I slid into the Goodey’s parking lot and turned off the engine. Charlie’s car was parked beside me, which meant it was going to be a good day.

“Hey, girl!” Charlie shouted as I entered the diner. She held up a soda and winked. “Are you here for a drink?”

I rolled my eyes and smiled at the boy behind the counter. “I’ll take a Coke, please.”

Charlie took a sip of her soft drink and clicked her glass with her long pink fingernails.

The bell over the door rang, signaling more customers. I turned to see a group of kids from school laughing and joking with each other. They noticed us and waved. “Hey, Allie!” one of the boys shouted, “How many more days of school?”

“You’ll never get me to engage in conversation with you, Danny Parker!” I called back, flicking my hair.

“Ouch.” Charlie laughed and nudged me.

I gave her a dismissive look. “He deserved it. He’s been bothering me ever since ninth grade.”

Charlie took another sip of her soda. “So are you an elitist now?”

“If I am, I got it from you.”

Charlie nodded and kicked the counter with her new shoes. “You know what?”

“What?” I grabbed my soda from the soda jerk, mumbling a quick thanks.

“One day you’re going to find a boy who really cares about you, and who you really care about too. Then your elitism is going to get you in trouble.”

I rolled my eyes, fidgeting on the end of my chair. “Is this about Russell?”

Charlie held up her hands. “Hey, you mentioned him. Not me.”

“Because Russell is not my type.”

She arched an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you had a type.” A slow smile spread across her face as she fiddled with her straw.

My face flushed. “I don’t.” Sam’s face flashed across my mind, causing me to blush all over again. “I definitely don’t,” I said again, more forcefully this time.

“Ooookay.” Charlie drew out the word, making it sound anything but okay.

This topic was getting uncomfortable. I glanced around the room. My eyes fell on the new jukebox. “Hey!” I called to the soda jerk boy. “Does that thing work?”

The boy shrugged. “Think so.”

“Have any good records?” Charlie asked. She twirled a blonde curl around her finger and grinned, revealing her two rows of straight teeth.

The boy squirmed and looked down, grabbing a dish towel. “Um, I think there’s some Benny Goodman and Bing Crosby records over there.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Crosby’s for old people and mothers. Why don’t you play some Benny Goodman?”

Charlie giggled and nodded. “I agree.”

“Sure.” The boy took off his apron and knelt by the shiny jukebox. He slid in a few coins and pressed a button. Within
seconds, the orchestra started up and the sounds of Benny Goodman floated into the air.

The rest of the noise in the diner dimmed to a hush. The kids began to whisper and nudge each other.

“What song is this?” I asked.

Charlie looked at the album and smiled. “Conchita, Marquita, Lolita, Pepita, Rosita, Juanita Lopez.”

I raised an eyebrow and watched the jukebox. “It’s nice.”

When the song finished, I handed the fountain boy a nickel. “Thanks for the soda.” I slid out of the chair.

“Oh, wait!”

I turned to see him holding up a glass jar. “For the war effort.”

I nodded and pulled out a quarter. “For the war effort.” Then I turned and smiled at Charlie. “I’ve got to get going before Beatrice kills me. ‘Often late to bed makes a girl unfit to wed.’ ” I rolled my eyes. “See you tomorrow.”

She waved a manicured hand. “See you tomorrow, cupcake.”

I grinned as the doorbell chimed above my head.
Cupcake? What next, Charlie Cooper?

I sat in the window seat, staring out at the moon again. It was so bright tonight—like a nice, glowing gumdrop that I could just pluck from the sky and suck on.

I smiled and pulled out my notebook.

I tapped my pen on the nearly empty page.

I pulled my blue-striped pajamas closer and looked out the window. A nice night for a walk.

The water felt so good on my bare toes. I closed my eyes and smiled, remembering how nice it felt to be covered in it yesterday, freezing as it was.

The wind danced through my hair.
Allie
, it whispered,
Allie …

“The moon is distant from the sea,” someone whispered in my ear. I screamed and whipped around: Sam Carroll. He seemed unfazed by the interruption and continued to recite, “And yet with amber hands she leads him, docile as a boy, along appointed sands.”

My chest was still pounding. “What are you doing here?”

He stuck his hands in his pockets and smiled. His hair was mussed again. “That was Dickinson.”

I glared at him. “I know that was Dickinson.” What did he think I was, stupid?

“Oh, and so you’ve read Dickinson?” He cocked an eyebrow.

“Yes, I know Dickinson, and yes, I’ve read that poem. It was very pretty.” I leveled my eyes. “How do
you
know it?”

“I’ve read Dickinson.” Sam looked me up and down and smirked a little. “Nice pajamas.”

I crossed my arms, looking out at the ocean. “Why are you here?”

“Why are
you
here?”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Neither could I.”

I stomped my foot. “Oh, why are you so impossible?”

“
I’m
impossible?” He paused for a second. “I beg your pardon, miss. Perhaps you’re used to men throwing themselves at your feet.”

That was it. That was
it
! “You are following me.”

Sam spread out his hands. “Guilty as charged.”

My eyes widened. “What are —”

Sam raised his eyes to the sky. “I’m just joking. Honestly, Allie. I may have come to Maine and everything, but do you really think I knew I was going to find you out here in the middle of the night?”

I gulped. “So what are you doing here?”

“I told you: I couldn’t sleep.”

Why is he so annoying
? I heaved a breath. “What are you doing on this beach?”

“I’m staying with my aunt Rachel, as you know.” He pointed to a big yellow house on the hill. “She lives right—”

“I know where she lives!” I snapped.
Whoa. Calm down, Allie
. I took a deep breath and wiggled my toes in the sand. “Sorry. So why are you being so nice?”

Sam wrinkled his forehead. “Was I ever not nice?”

“No one’s truly nice.” I glanced up at him. “Besides, you tried to drown me yesterday.”

“If I recall correctly, the favor was returned.”

Was he smiling? I felt a shell under my bare foot and reached down to pick it up, turning it over so all the sand ran out. “So …”

I looked up. Sam was staring at me. I squirmed. “What?”

“Nothing.” Sam dropped his gaze and kicked at the sand. “I’m just trying to figure out who you are.”

“I thought you —”

Sam chuckled. “I don’t actually mean who you are. I mean who you are as a person. It’s been awhile since I last saw you. Maybe you’ve changed.” He squinted at me, as if trying to memorize my features in the dim moonlight. “Are you the dull, lifeless person who sulks around parties, or the lively sprite who tumbles around in the ocean?”

I laughed and splashed water on his clean trousers. He ducked and kicked back. I squealed and ran down the oceanfront, spraying water everywhere, not caring if Beatrice saw or heard.

The stars were so bright and clear. And so distant.

“How many stars do you think there are?” Sam whispered.

“Don’t know.” I sighed and shifted a little, the cold, hard rock firm underneath me. I craned my neck so I could see Sam lying on a rock only a few feet from me, staring up at the same sky. “Billions, I guess.” I sat up, overcome with an urge to impress him. I bit the corner of my mouth and pointed at the constellation Taurus. “See that star?”

“What star?” Sam raised himself a little.

“That one, the third brightest.” I settled back on the rock and smiled. “It’s called Alcyone.”

“Really?” Sam squinted up at it, interested. “It’s beautiful.”

“I know,” I whispered. “When it rises, it means the cold autumn is coming.”

“Oh.”

We sat in silence for a long while, staring up at the heavens above us. My heart squeezed for a moment, thinking about Mama and how much she enjoyed stargazing.

“So tell me about this Beatrice Lovell.” Sam propped up his elbow. “Is she your mom now?”

“No.” My voice was cold and flat. I cringed and looked away.

“But I though she said —”

“Beatrice lives in a state of delusion.” I stared up at my namesake star. “She thinks we’re this idyllic little mother and daughter family and that everything is perfect and she chose me because she knows I’m … as wonderful as she is or something.” I scowled at the sky. The stars didn’t seem so friendly anymore. Now they were just teasing me — playing with my emotions.

“So … she adopted you?”

“I came here only because I had to.”

Sam stared at me for a second. “It can’t be that bad. She seems nice, I mean.”

“She’s okay.” I sighed. “It’s just … she wants to be my mom. She’s always trying to figure out how I feel and trying to get into my head. And constantly trying to get me to open up to her.” My voice hardened. “She’s not my mom.”

“Oh.”

I turned to look at Sam again. He was studying the stars with a sort of fierce frown on his face, so different from the dopey little Sam Carroll I used to know, and yet so much the same.

“So what about your family, Sam? Why are you here in Maine?”

He exhaled slowly. “Robert died.”

I sat up straight. “Your
brother
?” Sweet Robby with the blue eyes and dimples? “How?”

“Killed in action.” Sam caught my dismayed face and gave me a wan smile. “Mother and Father don’t support the war, so he ran off last summer to enlist. He was fifteen.”

I felt sick to my stomach. “Sam, I had no idea … I …”

Sam shook his head and gave me that thin little smile again. “Don’t. I’m kind of sick of hearing it.”

I watched him for a few seconds more, waiting to see if he’d say anything else. “Oh.” I eased myself back onto the rock. The wind changed, sending a warm breeze of sea salt in our direction. I licked my lips and stayed silent.

“Did you really know that poem I recited earlier?” Sam asked.

“Every word.” I traced letters on the rock with my finger. “ ‘The Moon is Distant from the Sea.’ I’ve always liked it.” I shot him a smile. “But you must have found that out somehow.”

Sam held up a hand. “Lucky guess. I swear.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You know, you don’t strike me as the kind who memorizes poetry.”

“And you don’t strike me as the kind who writes it.”

I shot up again. “How did you —”

“Relax.” Sam spread out his hands. “I saw it on the page of that journal you were scribbling in yesterday. Don’t look at me like that: I promise I didn’t read it. I just saw the first line.”

Giving him my darkest look, I growled, “You’d better not tell Beatrice. No one knows about what’s in that notebook. Not even Charlie. I’d kill you if —”

“Charlie?” Sam was looking at me funny.

“A girlfriend. Charlie Cooper. She lives right over —”I began to point.

“I know where the Coopers live,” Sam snapped in a girly voice.

I paused for a minute, then allowed myself to smile.
Touché
. “Sorry.”