Pool Boys (5 page)

Ouch!
Georgia swatted her bare arm. That was the third mosquito bite in the last five minutes. She’d forgotten how buggy it was out here.

The last time she’d snuck out to the golf course at night was four summers ago, when Charlotte insisted that she, Brooke, and Georgia conduct a séance to conjure up the ghost of John Lennon. Needless to say, their psychic powers hadn’t worked. They’d sat in a circle near the 13th hole, trying not to giggle, with their eyes closed and hands clasped (and Georgia didn’t even know for sure who John Lennon
was
at the time) until Mr. Henry, the maintenance guy, stumbled upon them as he was setting gopher traps, causing all three girls to shriek loudly enough to be heard back in the dining room.

“I should have been smart like Charlotte and worn a sweater,” Georgia grumbled out loud. She cast a longing glance back toward the cozy lights of the pool and the cabana. Maybe she could just bolt back there and—

“It’s nice to know that New Yorkers aren’t the only ones who talk to themselves.” A laughing voice came from the darkness.

Georgia clasped a hand to her chest. She breathed a sigh, her heart pounding, and then laughed. “Hey, Valerie,” she called to the approaching silhouette. “You scared me.”

“Sorry to sneak up on you like that,” Valerie apologized, rolling her eyes. “I ran back to my car to grab a couple of hoodies. It’s cold, you know? Want one?” She extended a velour Juicy hoodie, which had clearly seen better days.

“You read my mind,” Georgia said gratefully. “Thanks.” She slipped into the warm sleeves.

Valerie fiddled with her blonde curls. “Well, thanks for meeting me. My parents didn’t want to do the dinner thing here but I couldn’t bear a whole night at home.” She glanced around the shadowy expanse of the golf course, spread before them like a giant, rumpled green quilt—and then up at the sky. “Wow. Check out the stars.”

Georgia lifted her head. Funny. She hadn’t bothered to look in a long, long time. “Yeah. We’re pretty near the ocean.”

“Cool.” Valerie twirled a strand of her hair again, wrapping it around a finger. “Listen, I had a blast playing tennis with you today. I didn’t even mind getting whipped. And that’s saying a lot. I come from a hyper-competitive family. My brother, Sebastian, takes sadistic pleasure in beating me at any sport.”

“Well then, you and I have lots in common,” Georgia replied. “Aside from a brother, that is. I love sports.”

Valerie nodded. “You
did
seem into the game.”

“Yeah, I guess I was just working out some aggression…” Georgia sighed. She was
not
going to think about
Ethan again. Screw him and his stupid Midsummer Ball invitation. She wouldn’t think about Brooke and Charlotte, either, because if they knew he had invited her, that would set off an entire
summer
of incessant poolside chatter.

“Ow!” Valerie slapped her neck, jerking Georgia back to reality. “I should have brought some bug spray.”

“I’ll add that to the Unspoken Rules,” Georgia mused. “Thou Shalt Bring Off! to the Golf Course at Night.”

Valerie glanced at her, clearly intrigued. Her blue eyes glittered in the moonlight. “The Unspoken Rules?”

“Yeah.” Georgia blushed, wondering if Brooke and Charlotte would hate her for giving away their state secrets. Then she decided she didn’t care. “At Silver Oaks there are Spoken Rules, and there are Unspoken Rules.”

Valerie laughed. “Sounds interesting. Can you give me some examples?”

Georgia’s throat tightened. “Well…” Okay, maybe she
did
care.

“I’m sorry if this is making you uncomfortable,” Valerie cut in. “Hey, I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you tell me about the most scandalous thing that ever happened here? That was always a big pastime at my old tennis club in New York.”

“I really should let Charlotte or Brooke tell those stories,” Georgia found herself saying. “They’re a lot more…” She wasn’t sure how to finish.

“Gossipy than you are?” Valerie suggested.

Georgia laughed despite herself. “Exactly.” Then she paused. “But I can get my gossip on when necessary.”

Valerie stepped closer. “All right!” she encouraged. “Now you’re talking.”

Georgia
was
talking, wasn’t she? As she and Valerie hunkered down on the cool grass, the words started pouring out of her mouth “Well, you know that Silver Oaks was founded in 1922, right? The ‘Roaring Twenties.’ They used to make their own gin in the basement of the Main House during Prohibition. Actually, that’s sort of the tradition: You can be as bad as you want, as long as everyone else is, too, in the right ways. You have to have the right pedigree. Charlotte, Brooke, and I are the only fourthgeneration members left, so we’re supposedly ‘special.’” She made air quotes.

“Special?” Valerie repeated.

“Yeah. Our great-grandparents were among the founders. The ones who used to make the gin, in fact. So we’re the heirs. Or heiresses or whatever. Caleb Ramsey is third generation, so he’s a close second. None of us have any brothers or sisters, either. Maybe that’s why we’re all so…I don’t know.” Georgia paused. “Close. We call it a ‘Family Institution,’ right? But it’s a majorly dysfunctional family. I mean, everybody keeps each other’s secrets about liposuctions and stuff.”

“What else?” Valerie asked eagerly, hugging her knees to her chest.

Georgia blushed again. “Well…take my own family, for instance.” She couldn’t believe she was telling this story. “At Charlotte’s parents’ wedding, which was held here—but they’re divorced now—my mom got really drunk
at the ceremony. She started shouting, ‘I admit it! I’m Jewish!’ But nobody cared, because the guy who built this place was named Mort Goldstein. And then my mom passed out on the dance floor in the middle of that cheesy Barbra Streisand song ‘Memories’…Which is sort of funny, not only because of the Jewish thing, but also because everybody here always forgets everything, anyway…” Georgia broke off, blushing.

Valerie had collapsed, laughing hysterically. “Stop!” she cried. “It’s exactly like my old club!”

“Oh.” Once again, Georgia was unsure of what to do or say. She fiddled with the zipper of her hoodie. Her eyes wandered back toward the lights. If she was really going to give Valerie the inside scoop on Silver Oaks, then she should probably start
from
the inside, where it was nice and warm and packed with people. On the other hand, it felt pretty good to be on the outside, especially with another outsider.

Valerie sat up and dusted off her True Religion jeans. “That was brilliant.” She sighed.

Georgia shook her head. “Just embarrassing—” She stopped, squinting in the direction of the cabana.
Wait a second.
Somebody was walking toward them.…Definitely a guy. And for a delirious instant, Georgia’s hopes soared.
Ethan.

“Hey!” The guy waved. “I was hoping to find you out here.”

Georgia’s body sagged.

It wasn’t Ethan. It was the new lifeguard, Marcus.

“I guess I’ll see you later,” she said to Valerie. She stood up and started to slip out of the borrowed hoodie.

Valerie jumped up, too, and grabbed her arm. “Wait. Where are you going?”

“I just…” Georgia glanced between her and Marcus. “You probably…I figured you’d probably want to be alone with—”

“I probably
what?”
Valerie interrupted. “Georgia, you just blew off your two best friends at dinner to come out here and talk to me. I’m not going blow
you
off for some guy—no matter how cute he is. I mean it.”

Georgia blinked. As always, a dozen different questions spun through her mind before she could manage to speak. But in the end, they all faded as Marcus Craft sidled up beside them, looking frustratingly gorgeous in a blue shirt and khakis.

“So what are you two lovely ladies doing out here, all by your lonesome?” he asked, as nonchalantly as could be.

“Why, waiting for you, of course,” Valerie answered, winking at Georgia.

Georgia grinned but all she could think was,
Brooke is going to kill me.

Brooke kept sliding deeper into the seat at the empty table. She shouldn’t have stashed those Gummy Worms in her Gucci clutch. She hadn’t planned on
eating
them. But that was what happened after being ditched at dinner by her two best friends. She glanced at her watch, an old, silver antique keepsake from her dad. Ten fifteen.
Damn.
The plates had been cleared; the last stragglers had finished their dessert ports; even Jimmy had vanished.

The patio doors opened. Her heart swelled. Had Marcus returned, hoping to pick up where they’d left off?

Nope. It was Caleb.

His curly black hair stuck straight up, as if he’d just stepped in from a wind tunnel. He was wearing some sort of ridiculous, fuzzy, homespun-ish brown sweater—something he’d most likely dug out of the trunk of his car, thinking nobody would be around to see it.

“There you are,” Caleb mumbled. He sat down in Georgia’s long-abandoned seat. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Brooke’s recently reglossed lips twisted in a puzzled smile. “You have?”

“Yeah.” His teeth chattered. “Man, it’s cold out there. What ever happened to global warming?” He eyed Brooke’s metallic clutch, sitting on the rumpled white tablecloth. “You got any of those Gummy Worms left?”

“Gummy Worms?” Brooke echoed, pretending to be offended. “I didn’t bring any candy, Caleb. I came for dinner.”

“Oh, give it a rest. You always bring Gummy Worms.” Caleb reached for her clutch, fiddled with the buckle clasp, cracked it open, and then frowned. “Lip gloss, wallet, eyeliner—”

“Excuse
me,” Brooke interrupted. She snatched it away from him before he could unearth her you-never-know condom stash. “That’s my purse, you jackass. It’s private.” She sighed. “So what’s up, Caleb? Were you hoping I could help you smuggle that sweater out of here without anyone seeing it?”

“Ha, ha,” he said, rolling his eyes. But the sound was hollow, even for a fake laugh.

“Are you okay?” she asked, softening her tone. “It’s me, Brooke, remember? The candy addict?”

He tried to smile. “Well…I feel weird asking this.” He lowered his voice. His black mop of hair began to tumble down in his eyes. “This really is private. You know, even more than the contents of your purse.” He focused on the tablecloth. “Is everything all right between you, Charlotte, and Georgia?”

Brooke blinked. She felt an odd, unpleasant flutter in her stomach. Maybe that was just the Gummy Worms.

“As far as I know,” she answered coolly, tossing her hair. “Why?”

“Well, I was looking for Charlotte just now. And Ethan told me that she’d gone off to look for Georgia. Out at the golf course. And—”

“The golf course?” Brooke cut in. “Why there?”

Caleb shrugged. “That was my question, too. Ethan said that he’d seen her heading off toward the back nine—”

The patio doors burst open with a wobbly
BOOM.

Charlotte swept into the dining room, looking even more disheveled and distraught than Caleb. Her hair was in what she called “Fire-in-the-hole” mode: an explosion of red curls in every direction, and her cardigan was open, exposing the silky Betsey Johnson. “Come with me, you guys,” she stated gravely. She beckoned to Brooke and Caleb, propping one of the doors open.

Brooke exchanged a quick glance with Caleb. He hopped out of his seat. It took her a little longer to hop up; her knees were a little shakier. Plus, she was wearing heels.

A blast of ocean wind struck Brooke’s face as she chased the two of them across the pool patio, toward the paved path that led past the tennis courts out onto the golf course. The unpleasant flutter in her stomach upgraded to a full-fledged churning.

“Hey, Charlotte,” she called. “What’s going on?” Brooke hated being left out of
anything.

“Shh!” Charlotte hissed. She whirled around and raised a finger to her lips, pausing at the path entrance. “We can’t
talk anymore after this. Just follow me, and don’t make a sound. You’ll see…” She tiptoed out onto the path.

Caleb followed obediently, mimicking her every motion, down to the hunched form of her back.

Brooke stood there, unable to move. She watched them scramble onto the golf green, ducking down like burglars. Normally, an insane scenario like this would have sent her into a fit of hysterics. But for some weird reason, she was legitimately worried. Georgia had obviously lied about running off to meet her dad. Duh. But if Ethan had caught Georgia sneaking out to the golf course, it obviously meant Georgia
hadn’t
ditched Brooke and Charlotte to meet him. Which meant…what?

This was all getting very complicated. Too complicated for summer.

Brooke raced after Caleb and Charlotte onto the golf course, teetering in her Manolo mules.
No need to worry.
In all likelihood, Georgia had used the phone call as an excuse to be by herself. Brooke told little lies all the time, as did Charlotte. If you needed to be alone, you needed to be alone. But any other form of betrayal was, in Brooke’s book, not to be taken lightly.

Charlotte and Caleb crept behind the shrubbery near the 2nd hole. Charlotte waved Brooke over, and gestured wildly toward three shadowy figures perched at the edge of a distant sand trap. Caleb’s eyes followed. His jaw dropped.

Bunching up the skirt of her Prada dress, Brooke crouched low beside them and squinted, struggling to keep
her balance. Gradually, her vision began to adjust to the dim moon and starlight.

Now she understood why Charlotte had looked so shocked.

They’d found Georgia. They’d also found Marcus and Valerie.

“Is this some weird threesome thing?” Caleb asked.

“Shut
up!”
Charlotte hissed.

Brooke’s stomach squeezed again. Not just one betrayal. A double. Georgia Palmer had simply decided that the hot new lifeguard and the hot new chick were better company than the two girls she’d grown up with, and who were closer to her than her own family. She’d also conveniently decided to ignore the Second Unspoken Rule: Thou Shalt Not Poach Thy Friend’s Love Interest.

Unless she was just helping Valerie do the poaching.

“Should we say something?” Caleb stage-whispered. “Why all the secrecy?”

In the darkness, Charlotte and Brooke exchanged an understanding glance. Both girls knew that they couldn’t say anything
now.
They’d deal with it when they saw Georgia tomorrow.

Brooke got to her feet, shaky in her heels on the grass. She knew Charlotte would try to be the big person when confronting Georgia about her lie. But Brooke didn’t want to be a big person.

She was one heartbeat away from planning revenge.