Summer Boys (3 page)

Ella sat at the picnic table by the grill, her chin in her hands so that her full, freshly glossed lips smushed against her palms. She was chewing her fifth stick of gum of the day and watching backyard badminton. It was Team Peter and Kelsi versus Team Beth and George. Although it was a fair match, George and Beth were winning, mostly because Peter was clearly distracted. Whenever Kelsi took a swing with her racket, he followed every motion of her body as if she were Anna Kournikova.

Ella tried to take her mind off her envy and put it toward better use—checking out Peter’s amazing body. He was wearing aqua-blue shorts and a tank top that had the word punk across the front. His tan arms were a little sweaty from the heat of the competition. She admired his athletic build, big calves, and the strong muscles in his back that flexed whenever he moved his arms an inch. He walked in a slow, deliberate way that just drove Ella wild. The smoothness of each one of his strides gave off this air of confidence that Ella had always felt in herself, but never really saw in
anyone else. Every two seconds, Ella was thinking about what he might look like underneath his clothes. She couldn’t help herself.

Up until he’d walked into the backyard about half an hour ago, the hottie singer from the party had almost become a memory to Ella. He hadn’t called Kelsi until this morning. And Ella hadn’t seen him for over a week, so she’d lost hold of the thing that had made him so irresistible to her that first night.

Now it was all coming back to her.

Ella reached for the tie of her leopard-pattern bikini top and readjusted the knot. She found herself wondering how she looked, which she usually never worried about. She wished Peter had come down to the beach earlier, when she had been lying on her stomach in her tiny bikini bottom, the back of her top untied and open. That might have convinced him to grease her up with Coppertone instead of seeking out Kelsi.

“Good one,” Kelsi said, bending over to pick up a birdie that George had spiked hard against the ground. Peter playfully patted her on the butt as she bent over. She shot up awkwardly, her short blonde ponytail swinging, and darted a look toward the grownups. Beth’s dad was bent over the grill, laying raw pink burgers on the grate. Uncle Carr and Aunt Claire, Beth’s mom, and Ella and Kelsi’s dad—their parents were divorced, so the sisters spent the summers with their father—were at the table across the grass, too busy chatting to notice the innocent hanky-panky between Peter and Kelsi.

Kelsi was always uptight and conservative when it came to public displays of affection. Ella chuckled at her sister’s prudish reaction. If Peter thought Kelsi was
that
kind of girl—the kind that let you touch her butt—he was sorely mistaken. Big sis had
gone out with her last boyfriend for two years and only let him get to third base.
Two years
. For Kelsi, who lived by the mantra “Let’s slow down,” the standard allowable butt-touching time was probably somewhere around six months. Ella, on the other hand, didn’t have those kinds of strict rules. In fact, she considered all rules to be rather flexible, especially if they interfered with having fun. And when it came to Peter, any and all types of restrictions or regulations could be easily thrown out the window.

“Get ready, guys. The best burgers in the history of ground beef are about to be served,” Gary, Beth’s dad, pronounced from behind the grill. They had burgers at least three times a week at these cookouts, but Gary always got excited about it. And so did George, who was a big fan of Gary’s burgers. George abandoned the badminton game and leaned over the grill to watch Gary work.

“You know, these things are cooking too slow, Gar,” he said. “You need some of this action.” Before anyone could figure out what he was doing, he picked up the lighter fluid beside the grill and squirted some into the coals. A huge flame leaped up. Everyone, including Ella, jumped back in fear.

Beth stood behind George, shaking her head sympathetically at her dad.

“George, kindly step away from the grill,” Gary said, swiping at his face to make sure it was still there. “And while you’re at it, don’t handle anything flammable ever again. Okay, buddy?”

George’s face flooded bright red. Uncle Gary began scraping the burgers off the grate onto a platter, then disappeared inside. Kelsi immediately stepped in to take over with the survivors, expertly sliding the spatula under each raw patty, one at a time.

Ella couldn’t help but laugh. She just loved a commotion. She
turned to look at Peter, who stood aimlessly between the grill and the net. He slouched on one hip and cast his gaze over the grass slowly. He was trying hard to conceal a huge grin, which Ella imagined was directed at the near-fatal barbecue. The fact that they were the only two people laughing made her feel as if they were in on some private joke that nobody else was a part of. It was like a sign that Ella couldn’t ignore. She just had to make a move.

As she stood up and sauntered toward him, she adjusted her top to show a little more skin.

“You up for a game of one-on-one?” she asked, boldly grabbing one of the two badminton rackets dangling from Peter’s hands and started back toward the net.

“Is that some sort of challenge?” he asked, glancing back at Kelsi.

“For you, maybe. I’m a badminton expert.”

She wasn’t lying. After years of coming to Pebble Beach, badminton had become her sport (if you could even call it that). And besides, she looked good playing it. She was wearing a tiny white FCUK tennis skirt below her bikini top to show off her newly tanned arms, legs, and stomach.

Knowing how delicate boys’ egos could be, she intentionally missed the birdie on Peter’s first serve. She laughed and bent to pick it up, giving him a close-up view of her backside before handing over the birdie to him.

“Lucky serve,” she said slyly while arching one eyebrow.

“Are you kidding? That was one hundred percent pure skill,” he replied. His eyes met Ella’s for a second with the slight yet oh-dear-God-how-sexy smile still playing on his lips. She tried not to be rendered to pure mush at the sight of it.

As long as she’d been noticing boys, Ella had known she could cast a spell on them if she wanted. All she had to do to get a guy to like her was focus completely on him, and soon he would be under her control. But Peter was proving to be something of a challenge.

The next time he served, she missed completely by accident, and the birdie sailed right past her.

“Expert, did you say? You’re a badminton expert?” Peter asked teasingly.

“Listen, I just didn’t want to take away your dignity so quickly,”Ella said through her giggles. “But now that you’re mocking me, I’ll just have to whip you.”

They snapped back and forth, both getting more and more competitive. Toward the end of the match, with Ella up by a couple of points, the birdie landed on the edge of some trees and Ella ran over to retrieve it. Her heart was thrumming. Beating the brush with her fingers, she grasped the birdie and stood up, turning around with her racket poised to serve, her cheeks flushed. Only Peter wasn’t waiting for her eagerly, as she had hoped. His racket was on the grass underneath the net.

Ella looked toward the grill and saw that he was standing behind Kelsi, holding out a plate for the new batch of burgers. Every time she passed a burger to Peter, Kelsi’s entire face lit up like a Christmas tree.

Across the lawn, Ella swiped at the perspiration on her cheeks. She was still trying to regain her breath. She hadn’t noticed before how giddy her sister looked when Peter was close by. It was unbelievable but undeniable. She looked the same way Ella
had
felt
a few seconds before, when she and Peter were volleying back and forth.

She looked like a girl who was falling in love.

Ella forced herself to accept the situation. Kelsi was her sister. And for some reason that Ella couldn’t even begin to imagine, Peter seemed really into Kelsi. The smart thing for Ella to do would be to forget him for good and move on to the next summer boy.

But it wouldn’t be the easiest thing to do.

Jamie paused by the side of Ethan’s house and pulled off her cotton sun hat, smoothing back her damp hair. She resecured the knotty bun she’d made before leaving her house as she walked up the stairs, then lowered her hand and pushed the doorbell with her index finger. Her breath fluttered out of her mouth unevenly while she waited.

Underneath her loose peasant blouse she wore the pink sheer bra that she’d bought over the winter with Ethan in mind. He hadn’t seen her wear it before, so today would be the grand unveiling. She wondered what his reaction would be—would he pounce on her and smother her with kisses, or would he just say she looked pretty and then act all weird? With Ethan lately, you could never quite tell what mood he was going to be in—either he was attentive and affectionate or distant and standoffish. They hadn’t even had sex again. Jamie was beginning to worry.

The past two-and-a-half weeks hadn’t been quite what Jamie had expected in the days leading up to the summer. She’d
pictured her and Ethan spending long hours lying on the beach, cuddling and kissing, and drinking iced coffees at local cafés. But so far, he’d been busy a lot of the time at his job down at Pebble Beach Bikes, or with his friends doing typical guy stuff like fooling around with the X-Box for hours on end.

But today is going to be different,
Jamie kept telling herself. They hadn’t been together—as in, alone in a house with a bed—since she’d gotten here. And that was all going to change as soon as Ethan opened the door.

The doorknob jiggled and Jamie tried to let her body relax, rolling her shoulders back a few times to relieve the tension.

Ethan’s mother appeared in the doorway.

“Oh,” Jamie said in surprise. “Hi there.”

Mrs. Davis was a tall, statuesque woman with a short brunette bob that made her look very first ladyish, even in a swimsuit and flip-flops, which she wore now. She gave Jamie a friendly smile and welcomed her inside.

“Jamie, so nice to see you,” she said. “I was just leaving for the beach. Ethan’s downstairs. They’re watching a movie.”

“Great. Thanks.”

Jamie turned and headed down the stairs. She could hear the movie blaring from the VCR. Definitely
Star Wars.
It was Ethan’s favorite. Yoda was giving Luke Skywalker his famous speech about how you couldn’t try to use the force, you just had to
do
it. “Do, or do not. There is no try.”

Maybe she’d come over too early. She knew Ethan usually liked to lie on the couch and watch TV in the morning. But as she ducked under the archway into the den, she saw four of Ethan’s friends, crashed out on the white leather sofa and chairs. He was
in the chair on the far end, his legs hanging over the side, his hair all crooked and smushed from lying around. He looked up just as she entered the room.

“Hey,” he said, frowning slightly.

“Hi.” Jamie walked around behind the couch and kissed him on the cheek. “What’s up?”

“Nothing. What are you doing here?”

Jamie looked around the room at the other guys. One of them sat up, grabbed the remote from the coffee table, and paused the movie. Were they having some kind of guys-only thing? Her chest pinched a little as she looked back at Ethan.

“I just thought, well, last time we talked you said we’d have the house to ourselves,” Jamie said very softly so that Ethan’s friends wouldn’t hear her. Had she done something wrong? She racked her brain but she couldn’t think of anything.

She looked around the room again, wishing that the other boys would just vanish into thin air. That way, she could tell Ethan how much she longed to be next to him, how she desperately needed to have that feeling she experienced last summer—like their souls fit perfectly together. But Ethan’s friends didn’t look like they were going anywhere. In fact, it appeared to her that she might be the one on the way out.

“I just, you know, missed you,” she muttered again, low enough for only Ethan to hear. She gave him a tender smile, but he kept looking at his watch and glancing at the TV set.

Okay,
she told herself,
it’s a guy thing. Shouldn’t take this personally at all.
But she could barely contain the tears that were welling up in her eyes.

“Well, I guess I should go,” Jamie said, trying not to lose her
composure. She would never be able to forgive herself for breaking down in front of Ethan and his posse. But before she could say anything else, Ethan did something nice. He made her feel like a part of the gang.

“Hey, you haven’t met these guys yet, right? These are some of my best buddies.” Ethan waved a hand over his three friends. “Scott, Alex, Keith…this is my Jamie.”

My
Jamie? Ethan had momentarily redeemed himself.

“Have a seat,” Scott said as he cleared a spot for her beside him on the couch. His foot grazed the miniature Millennium Falcon replica perched on the table.

“Careful,” Ethan said, leaning forward protectively. He’d built the model from an elaborate vintage kit last year. Jamie knew it was his one nerdy hobby, and that all his friends made fun of him for it. But she’d always thought the patience it must have taken was something else to love about him.

Finally, everyone was situated. “So, I hear you’re a writer, Jamie,” Scott said, ignoring the fact that the movie was still on pause. Scott was classic surfer guy material. His hair was brown and fuzzy, and he had wide-set hazel eyes. Jamie’s first thought was to introduce him to Ella—he was definitely cute enough.

“Aspiring,” she said humbly. She never liked talking about her writing with anyone except Ethan. “What about you?” She quickly checked on Ethan, who’d started the movie again on a low volume.

“Well, I’m not an aspiring anything,” he said. “I help my dad. He runs a business flying planes, you know the ones with the ads that fly over the beach?”

Jamie nodded, although she wasn’t really listening. Her thoughts were on Ethan and whether or not she had been giving
him enough space over the past couple of weeks after all. Yesterday she’d dragged him to the beach and talked to him nonstop while he barely said a word. Sometimes she just couldn’t help herself—Ethan made her feel so comfortable that she oftentimes confided in him about things she had kept hidden from everyone else. But maybe that was too overwhelming for him.

Eventually, Scott stopped talking and Jamie’s attention returned to her surroundings. While everyone focused on the movie again, Jamie studied the Millennium Falcon, partly because it was blocking her view, but mostly because it never failed to impress her. It was such an elaborate piece of craftsmanship. She just couldn’t believe that Ethan was responsible for its creation.

Jamie stayed for the rest of the movie. When it was over, the boys remained seated. Jamie stood up and stretched her arms above her head as if she had been sitting down for days. It seemed she wasn’t going to get any private time with Ethan, so she decided to head out.

“Well, guys, I have some stuff to do, so I’ll catch you later,”she said.

“James, it’s been real,” Scott said and shot her a surfer hangten sign with his right hand.

“Absolutely,” she replied with an equally corny thumbs-up.

Ethan stood up and walked her to the downstairs door, which led onto the back deck that faced the ocean.

“Hey, thanks for not kicking me out earlier,”she said, trying to sound breezy and carefree.

“Sorry about the misunderstanding,” he replied, his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah, well, it happens,” Jamie said sweetly. She gave Ethan a peck on the cheek and walked onto the deck.

She wasn’t codependent or anything like that, she told herself. Maybe she’d go home and write, or draw, or swim. There were plenty of things she was happy to do alone.

But before she did, there was one thing she had to accomplish.

Without even really thinking about what she was about to do, she spun around.

“Hey, Ethan!” she called out. He turned around rather quickly as if she had startled him.

“Just wanted you to see what you missed,” she said.

She lifted up her peasant blouse and quickly flashed him the pink bra. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped. Jamie lowered her shirt, waved, and walked off, happy that she hadn’t let him see her cry.