Ella pulled into the parking lot behind the Okay Café downtown and yanked on the parking brake. She checked her face in the visor mirror to make sure everything looked picture-perfect and smiled at herself. For the first time in two weeks, she didn’t have puffy bags tugging at the delicate skin under her eyes. She’d finally slept, a little, thanks to Mr. Vodka. It seemed a little dysfunctional, but what the hell.
When she got out of the car, Ella stretched her arms above her head. She felt so refreshed and happy that the kinks in her stomach had finally loosened up.
It had been a few weeks since Peter had touched her in the car. Since then, Ella’s mind had gone wild, creating scenarios that kept her awake night after night. Every day she hadn’t seen him—every time Kelsi went off to meet him somewhere—had made it worse. But because of her girls’ night in with Jamie, she suddenly felt back to normal. Up until now, Ella had been hoping Peter would show up on her doorstep, or that they’d run into each other
somewhere. But because he hadn’t, it made everything easier. Ella was going to move on and be done with this whole insane crush of hers.
The café was virtually empty, so it was easy to spot Kelsi at a table by the window. She was reading a folded newspaper. Her sunglasses were tucked on top of her head and her legs were crossed loosely at the ankle. She was wearing a gauzy white hippie-style tank top and khaki shorts. Ella watched her for a second, wondering what Peter saw in her exactly. And then Kelsi met her eyes.
“Hey.” She waved to catch Ella’s attention.
Ella made her way to the table, then plopped down and dropped her straw tote beside her chair.
Kelsi waved the newspaper at her.
“Did you know that even though the sun is about four hundred times bigger than the moon,”she said, “the distance between them makes them appear almost exactly the same size to us on Earth?”
Ella shrugged and looked behind her for the waiter.
“That’s why we can have total eclipses,” Kelsi said, looking back down at the article. “It’s a huge coincidence, like two puzzle pieces.…”
“Cool.”
“Some people think it’s proof of a divine plan at work.”
“I guess,” Ella agreed. Actually, the word
divine
made Ella think of Peter’s back muscles.
The waiter, a Steve Buscemi clone, walked up and hovered over them.
“One napoleon, two forks,” Kelsi said, throwing a glance at
Ella. “And two iced café au laits.” It was the only thing they ever got here. They came to the Okay Café for napoleons at least three times a summer. It was sort of a sisterly tradition.
“We should go by the Look Out Diner after this to hang out with Peter.” Kelsi folded her newspaper tighter and stuffed it into her worn, purple JanSport knapsack.
A flame leaped in Ella’s stomach. Just the mere mention of his name was enough to do that to her.
Kelsi put her chin on her hand and looked out the window. “Don’t you think he’s incredible?”
Ella fumbled over her words. “I…uh…I dunno.” A sudden image of Peter with his hand on her thigh flashed into her mind. Thankfully the waiter arrived with their pastry and set it down between them, then placed the two tall glasses of coffee in front of them. It snapped Ella out of her trance. “If you like butt chins,” she finally managed to say as she dug into the napoleon with her fork.
Kelsi laughed. “I guess he does have a butt chin.” She looked thoughtful, her brown eyes focused on something beyond Ella’s shoulder. “But I think it’s sexy.”
“Hmm.” Ella dug harder into the pastry, sneaking her fork over onto Kelsi’s half.
“Here,” Kelsi pushed the plate toward her. “You know, I’m not even hungry.”
When Ella had wolfed down the whole pastry and finished her glass of coffee, Kelsi asked for the check. She studied it for a second, then laid down a five-dollar bill and three singles, plus a handful of change. “My treat,” she said, pushing back her chair and standing up.
They walked out of the café and turned left, Kelsi leading the way toward the diner. That morning, when Ella had gotten dressed, she’d had the possibility in mind that she might see Peter, like she’d had every day since the Fourth of July. She’d put on her tight turquoise tank top with the double spaghetti straps and black capris, thinking of him. She’d worn her lacy black thong underneath just because.
But seeing him with Kelsi wasn’t what she’d fantasized about. She nervously reached for her pack of Dentyne Ice, wishing she could have a cigarette instead.
When they got to the door of the diner, Kelsi smoothed back her hair with both hands. Ella fought the urge to do the same. A pretty blonde stood at the hostess podium, marking something with a pen. She looked up at them with a hint of hostility. Ella glared right back. Girls like that were often bitchy to her off the bat. It was like an Old West showdown.
This town isn’t big enough for the both of us.
“Is Peter around?” Kelsi asked the hostess as she shoved her hands in the front pockets of her shorts.
The girl shook her head. “Not until four.”
Kelsi looked disappointed as they walked back out onto the sidewalk. They made their way up Main Street, aimless now. Ella had the sudden urge to reach out and hug her sister and apologize for everything mean she’d ever done to her. Like the time she’d put shoe polish in her shampoo. And the time she’d made all her friends join the “I Hate Kelsi Club” out of jealousy that they might like her better than Ella. Ella told herself she could ignore what had happened with Peter. She could resist temptations. All she needed was a little more will power.
“I love that,”Kelsi said, pausing in front of a lingerie shop with one finger at the corner of her mouth. Her lips were curved up in a smile. Kelsi’s smiles never used to
curve.
“Don’t you?”
The lingerie on display in the store’s front window was a cropped see-through lace top and sexy, frilled underwear in a deep emerald green. It reminded Ella of something a naughty French cancan dancer might wear, but in a good way. Classy, vintagey, but sexy. “Um, you mean, for you?”
“Yeah.”
“You mean, to buy?”
“No, I mean to just stand out here and gawk at,” Kelsi said with a laugh. “Let’s go in,” she said decidedly.
Ella trailed after her, feeling suddenly queasy. Their mom always took Kelsi shopping at the Maidenform place at the mall, where the bras offered support. Here, they clearly offered something a little bit more. It was the kind of place Ella had never envisioned her sister shopping at. It was a shop for
women who have sex.
Kelsi was already studying the white tag that hung from the set on the mannequin. “I think I’m gonna get it,” she said. “What do you think?”
“What do I think?” Ella ran through the mental catalog of possible things she could say. Her head was spinning. There was no reason for Kelsi to buy lingerie. She thought of Peter, burying his head in Kelsi’s neck at the bar. She imagined Peter looking at Kelsi naked.
“El?”
“Um, don’t you think it’s a little…
racy?
” She could feel one of her mom’s signature words rolling out of her mouth.
Kelsi looked very amused. “Thank you, Mary Poppins. Of course. It’s sexy.”
Ella wondered if her face was turning red. “I guess. If you’re into…that.”
Kelsi ignored Ella’s unenthusiastic response and kept scanning the rack for a set that was her size. Ella ran her hands through the racks, too, touching this lacy thong, that satin bra, absentmindedly. She wondered what was Peter’s favorite color.
Her hand landed on a cinnamon-red strapless demi-bra. The upper half of it was meshy and see-through. It had twice the sex appeal of the green set, and half the class.
She didn’t hesitate, or figure out how she’d ever wear it for the person she was thinking of. She sifted through the matching thongs, plucking out a medium. She’d save it for a rainy day.
Ella slid the items onto the counter just as Kelsi had finished paying, and took out her wallet. Kelsi eyed Ella’s purchase, surprised, as the lady rang it up. Ella braced herself for a lecture—something big sisterly about her not being old enough for sexy lingerie. But Kelsi didn’t say anything at all.
Obviously, she had more important things on her mind.
“Have you seen my deodorant?”
George was standing in Beth’s bedroom doorway, his face flushed from the hot shower he’d just taken. He had a towel wrapped around his waist.
Beth was in front of the mirror, trying to fasten a bracelet she had never gotten around to wearing because she always had trouble putting the damn thing on. They were getting ready for the party at Ethan’s house.
“You put it under your pillow, remember?” she said.
George nodded. “Oh, yeah.”He’d put it there so he’d remember to use it in the mornings. He looked at her wrist. “You want some help with that?”
Beth eyed herself in the mirror. “No, I got it.”
“Here,” George stepped up behind her and turned her around, holding tight to his towel with one hand, then tucking it in tighter so that both hands were free. He took hold of her wrist.
“I do this for my mom all the time,” he said, concentrating very hard on the tiny little clasp.
George had long fingers and bulky knuckles, so Beth didn’t know how long this was going to take. She watched his hand as it worked open the clasp and expertly hooked it through the eye of the chain. She stared at the drops of water on his chest, and listened to his deep and steady breath.
“Wow, Cara. You were right,” she muttered.
“What’s that?” George asked.
Beth could feel her cheeks burning. Had she actually said that
out loud?
“I said, thanks, George,” she said quickly, then turned her back to him.
“No problem. Don’t mention it.”
“Is Miss Violin Virtuoso coming tonight?” Beth asked, teasingly, though she still felt flushed.
“Yes, Miss Pain-in-My-Ass. She should be here any minute.”
“Oh.” Beth was trying to feel happy for George, but once again there were these surprising emotions lurking around inside her that she just wasn’t prepared to deal with. At least not yet.
“Beth?”
“Yeah?” She glanced over at him.
George shifted from foot to foot nervously. “Maybe, you know, you could talk to her? I don’t know if we’re just friends or what.”
Beth nervously tugged at her top as she eyed him in the mirror.
“Really?”
“I mean, maybe you could try to find out if she likes me.”
Beth shrugged. Being a girl herself, it was pretty obvious that
Cara liked George. She’d given him her number. She’d come to Ahoy on Fourth of July. She kept coming to their spot on the beach to sunbathe and drink Diet Vanilla Cokes, and she’d even come by the cottage a couple of times.
“Sure, I’ll see what I can pry out of her,” Beth said in her most sisterly sounding voice. She didn’t want him to see right through her.
“Cool,” George said, and then placed a goofy wet kiss on Beth’s cheek. He dashed out the door to his own room, next door, where she heard him call out. “You’re the best, babe!”
Beth studied herself in the mirror. Her hair was pulled back in a loose braid. She was wearing a dark blue halter top meant to downplay the size of her boobs, and an aqua-green homemade skirt she’d borrowed from Jamie. On Jamie, it looked loose and sort of gamine. On Beth, it was tight and short, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. She had nice long, muscular legs—even if they were dotted with tiny bruises from surfing. Why hadn’t George commented on how good she looked?
Because he’s an idiot, that’s why,
she thought to herself. Besides, maybe George was right about summer boys. Maybe this was her time to act, and it was flying by while she was busy having these conflicting thoughts—about her best friend, of all people! She just had to take the first step and actually make an effort. And the sooner the better.
Then, out of nowhere, Beth thought of George again. She realized he was probably naked in the room next door, and she pictured him drying himself off with the towel. She shook her head, hard. Was she going insane?
“George, I’ll meet you outside,” she called to him as she
headed for the door. She absolutely had to put some distance between herself and George’s nudity. Just above the light switch in Beth’s room, there was a shelf holding a fisherman figurine carved out of cork. Last summer, George had dubbed him Chauncy. Beth turned out the light, patted his captain’s hat for luck, and then headed down the hall, trying to pretend the last few seconds hadn’t happened.
Outside, the sky was slightly purple, but the moon was giving off just enough light for Beth to see the group already gathered on the porch next door. The air was still pretty hot and muggy.
Jamie was standing on the porch in what looked like one of Ella’s outfits—a skirt that stopped halfway down her thighs and a strappy black tank top. Her hair was pulled back at the top, but some of it hung loose and curly over her shoulders, and as Beth got closer, she could see she was wearing makeup. She looked vampy, except that she was tugging at her curls self-consciously. She was talking to someone, and it took Beth a second to see that it was Cara.
“Hey, guys,” Beth said as she approached them slowly.
“Beth, you look great,” Jamie said in a very strained-sounding voice.
“Thanks.” Beth was already looking at Cara, sizing her up. She was wearing khaki clam diggers and a red strapless top. Her penny-colored hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail. Beth felt whatever amount of confidence she’d had a few moments ago plummet like an out-of-control elevator.
Beth tried to shake off the negative vibes. She was used to being eclipsed by the girls around her, who were smaller and
girlier and softer. It wasn’t a big deal. “Where are Ella and Kelsi?” she asked.
“Not coming,” Jamie answered. “Kelsi has a date with Peter, and Ella is seeing that guy she met at Ahoy.”
When George came out a few minutes later, his hair combed and his skin looking scrubbed, his eyes lingered on Cara for a moment longer than on anyone else. Then he headed for the car. He was driving.
“Well,” Jamie said, already walking down the steps to the car. “Let’s get going. It’s now or never.” She tossed her hair in a distinctly un-Jamie-like manner.
Beth got the sense that this was one party Jamie definitely didn’t want to miss.
There were about seventy people streaming out of Ethan’s living room onto his back deck and out onto the lawn. There was a group of people dancing in the living room, holding beers in their hands and bobbing to classic rock music. Some guy wearing a sailor’s hat was tending bar across the room.
Beth tugged down the hem of her skirt and scanned the crowd for boys with potential. “Solid talent,” is what George would have called it. She was going to meet someone tonight—she could just feel it.
“I’ll be back,” Jamie said almost immediately after she entered the room, her eyes wide and hopeful as they searched for any sign of Ethan. She headed into the mass of people, her hips swaying as she walked.
“Jamie’s looking hot tonight,” George said, watching her as
she skipped off into the crowd. “Not that I was really noticing,” he covered, turning to Cara and blushing.
It was extremely easy to tell when George blushed because he was so pale. Beth looked at him with Cara and wondered why he had never blushed like that with her.
After standing around for a couple of minutes surveying the damage already done to Ethan’s place, the three of them gravitated to one of the brown, velvety couches by the open archway of the living room. George and Cara immediately turned toward each other, leaving Beth sitting alone beside George.
“So how did you become interested in the violin, anyway?’ George asked Cara in his most mature voice. Beth leaned over George’s shoulder so she could feel like a part of things.
“Oh, I was raised on the violin,” Cara said as stroked her ponytail with one hand. “My parents started me on the Suzuki method when I was four.”
“Four,wow.”
“The joke in my family,” Cara smiled mirthfully, “is that my first word wasn’t Mama, it was Yo Yo Mama.”
“Ha!” George grabbed both his knees with the force of his laugh. “That’s a good one. Yo Yo Mama. Man, that’s funny.”
Oh God.
With all her strength, Beth fought the urge to roll her eyes. Cara was the kind of girl George and Beth might have made fun of a few weeks ago. Serious, boring, and ridiculously cheesy. Who knew George would be so totally into her? It made Beth disappointed in him that he could fall for someone so blah. But her disapproval made her feel guilty. And then she got annoyed with George for making her feel disappointed
and
guilty. Then she considered seeking psychiatric help for her split personality
disorder, which was worsening every minute she spent sitting there listening to them gab on and on about nothing.
Cara said she was on a diet and George pinched her arm and told her she shouldn’t be, which made Cara pinch him back and say, “You’re so sweet.” Beth thought about going outside and throwing herself under the next car that drove by. She nodded her head to the music, trying to look occupied, but that could only go on for so long. Finally, she looked at the bar and realized she’d found an escape.
“Who wants drinks?” she asked, jumping out of her seat excitedly. George and Cara didn’t seem to hear. “I know I do,” she said out loud to herself, because no one seemed to notice that she existed.
Beth nearly tripped over a couple making out on a chair at the edge of the dance floor. The guy had his hand on the girl’s thigh and they were practically sucking each other’s faces off. Beth cringed. People could be so gross.
At the bar, Sailor Hat guy was still mixing cocktails for everyone. He kept bobbing around the bar, half-filling drinks and handing them out, having a grand time, but looking overwhelmed.
When his eyes met Beth’s, she leaned in to order the drinks. Then she realized this was an opportunity to let loose and have a little fun.
“You want some help?” she asked, instead of ordering.
“From a pretty girl like you? Hell, yeah!” he said with a grin. Beth thanked him with an unusually girly giggle. “Do you know anything about mixing drinks?” he asked.
Beth shrugged. “It’s like math, isn’t it? Ten percent this, fifty percent that.”
“Right, close enough,” Sailor Hat guy said and scooted over, indicating that the space beside him was hers.
“What do you want?” she asked the first person she made eye contact with, a redhaired girl.
“What can you make?”
Beth looked at what she had to work with: half-empty bottles of vodka, rum, cranberry and orange juices, Coke. Plus, the everpopular beer of choice, Bud Lite.
“Basically, the staples.”
From then on, whoever wanted a mixed drink got a screwdriver, a rum and Coke, or a vodka cranberry, regardless of what they asked for. Beth made herself a drink and sipped at it between making everyone else’s.
“You’re good,” Sailor Hat guy said with a hint of awe in his voice. Beth reveled in the pleasant sensation of being watched with admiration.
At least now she had a
purpose.
She was the bartender and everybody loved her. One partygoer called her Captain Jack and her sidekick Sailor Joe. Jamie appeared, demanded two drinks, and gave Beth a sloppy kiss on the cheek. It was worlds better than sitting with George and Yo Yo Mama. Before Beth knew it, an hour had gone by and she was wrapped in the embrace of a nice buzz, only a tiny bit worried that the liquor was almost gone and that she might have to stop being Captain Jack all too soon.
She got a clear view of the brown velvet couch at one point, when she ducked for a cooler of ice. Through the spaces between people’s bodies she could see George and Cara sitting there, oblivious to the fact that she’d never come back. If they sat any closer, they could have combined into one giant cell through osmosis.
She stood back up and noticed two of her bottles were empty. Damn. She glanced around quickly, trying to improvise. All she saw were half-empty cups that people had left lying around.
She grabbed several of the cups in the immediate vicinity and carried them back to the bar. It was easy to tell which drink was which from her limited repertoire. She started pouring the glasses into each other. It brought a huge smile to her lips.
I’m saving the party,
she thought to herself. Sailor Hat guy, who’d introduced himself as Alex, followed her lead, once again clearly impressed with her ingenuity. Beth felt like a hero.
When George and Cara finally drifted up to the bar, George had his hand on Cara’s back, massaging it lightly. Beth tried not to look. She swiped at the hair in her eyes and noticed for the first time that she was sweating. Her outfit clung to her and there were two huge wet spots where she’d spilled drinks on her chest. Very, very classy. Cara, on the other hand, looked cool as a cucumber.
“What do you want?” George asked Cara, as if they were at a real bar. He wasn’t drinking, since he was driving them home.
“You should probably have the beer,” Beth offered, more generous than she wanted to be.
“Why?”
She gave a conspiratorial wink to her cobartender. It wouldn’t hurt for George to see her flirting. “Because the only liquor we’re serving is recycled.” George eyed the empty cups littering the bar, seeming to get what she meant almost immediately. He had to explain it to Cara.
“Oh.” She wrinkled her nose, looking slightly disgusted.
“Beth,” George said quietly, “that’s kinda gross.”
The grin disappeared from Beth’s face.
“It’s funny,” she said, hearing the flatness in her own voice. At least she didn’t sound as hurt as she felt.
“I guess,” Cara said in a condescending tone that totally enraged Beth. But instead of reaching over and spilling one of the cups over Cara’s head, Beth maintained her composure and just closed her jaw tight.
She looked at Alex for validation. But he had backed away a few feet and was talking to a girl in a tight sundress. “I’m saving the party,” she finally said, forlornly.
Cara took her beer and walked away with George.
Captain Jack stood alone, suddenly wishing that she had just stayed home.
“So Jamie wouldn’t come with you?” George asked solemnly, knitting his eyebrows in concern. They were driving home from the party, and turning onto Route 41, which was a straight, threeminute shot to their section of Pebble Beach.