The Secrets of Boys (4 page)

There was a photo collage on the front: snapshots of smiling students strolling across the Pepperdine quad and posing for pictures in front of the Eiffel Tower.

CALIFORNIA INTERNATIONAL LANGUAGE AND CULTURE

INSTITUTE was embossed across the top.

“We’re so excited for you,” her father added in his gentle accent. “You know how much it bothers me that I had to give up my cultural roots when I came to America to marry your mom. And it’s just a shame that you never really got to know my side of the family. This will … this will …” He struggled for the right word. He was an engineer and, like Cassidy, more comfortable drawing lines on paper than talking.

“This will
facilitate communication
between you and your French relatives,” her mom finished for him. “And give your summer some structure, unlike last year.”

Cassidy remembered CJLK, the electroclash girl band she and Larissa had started the summer before.

They’d spent days on end in Cassidy’s room trying on microminis, downloading Fischerspooner tunes, and scribbling lyrics about falling in love with your hair-dresser, before Larissa decided that bands were out and slam poetry was actually the next big thing.

“But I
am
going to have structure,” Cassidy pleaded, realizing she was dangerously close to whining. “I said I have a job.”

Her mother made eye contact and held it for so long that Cassidy finally looked away. She stared down at her plate, knowing she had already lost. “Honey, you know I don’t believe in telling you what to do. But as an efficiency expert
and
as your mother, I
strongly recommend
you participate in this program. Your father and I will be happy to continue providing you with spending money, and we’d also be willing to discuss extending your weekend curfew by a few hours. How does that sound?”

“I don’t know,” Cassidy stalled, even though she knew exactly what she’d end up doing. Her mother drove a hard bargain, and Cassidy didn’t think she had what it took to put up a fight. She felt like she had last night when Eric had pulled her away from Joe and when Larissa had made her tag along to talk with Gucci Boy.

She felt pressured and intimidated and she couldn’t find the courage within her to say no.

Cassidy sighed an inner sigh, the kind that only she could hear, and pasted what she hoped was a brave smile across her face. “Fine, I’ll do it.”

“Oh, good!” her mother exclaimed. “Because I’ve already put down the deposit. You’ll just love it, Cassidy, you’ll see. You’ll have lots of fun, maybe make some new friends. And of course it won’t look too shabby on your college applications, either.”

“Of course.” Cassidy’s voice echoed in her ears.

“There’s always that.”

The rest of dinner felt like it lasted about a century and a half, and as if some medieval torture device had been attached to Cassidy’s body. As her parents babbled on about the “extraordinary” benefits of the summer French program, Cassidy had to struggle to hold back her tears. As lukewarm as she’d felt about working at Seersucker before, it suddenly seemed like she was missing out on the most thrilling job in the history of seasonal employment. Plus Larissa would be crushed. They always did everything together.

And she hadn’t even
begun
to think about Eric. He had a summer job lined up at Carl’s Surf Shack, which meant he’d be at Point Dume all summer, teaching surfing lessons to adoring girls with skimpy Blink bikinis and killer Hawaiian Tropic tans while Cassidy languished in a classroom conjugating verbs with a bunch of type-A overachievers.

As soon as her mother got up to clear the plates, Cassidy excused herself. “I want some time to look this over,” she said, patting the shiny folder and faking a smile.

“Sure, go ahead,” her mom said as she and her father exchanged pleased glances. Cassidy could tell they considered the dinner a success. If only she could tell them how she really felt without bringing Armageddon down on her entire household.

The minute her bedroom door closed behind her, Cassidy threw herself facedown on her bed. She didn’t
want
to cry about this like some big baby, but it was already too late. Streams of self-pity ran down her cheeks, and she dug her face into a pillow to drown out her sobs. It was just so unfair! Why had she ended up with parents so into planning her future that they forgot to notice how she felt in the present?

My summer is totally shot,
Cassidy thought bitterly.

With classes at 9 A.M. every morning, there was no way she’d be able to stay out late with Eric and Larissa like they’d planned. That was what summer was all about: long days at the beach, late nights driving around looking for trouble, waking up late the next morning and pouring yourself fresh-squeezed orange juice and starting all over again.

Without lifting her head from the pillow, Cassidy fumbled on top of her nightstand for her cell phone and speed-dialed Larissa’s number.

“Help …” was all she got out before choking on another sob.

“Bella’s,” Larissa commanded. “Ten minutes. See you there.”

Cassidy clicked her phone shut and ran down the back stairs so her parents wouldn’t see her puffy, tearstained face. She leapt into her mom’s Volvo and started the engine, letting the wind from the open windows rush in to dry her tears. Tuning the radio to a bouncy Jason Mraz song, she cranked the volume and nodded to the beat. Larissa had been right to choose their favorite ice cream parlor for an emergency meeting spot—it overlooked the ocean too, so the view was spec-tacular. Even if a praline sundae and the roar of the waves didn’t cheer her up, Larissa would think of something. She always did.

* * *

“So what happened?” Larissa plucked a candy-striped napkin from the dispenser on top of the ice cream counter and handed it to Cassidy so she could dry her eyes. “Did you get in a fight with Eric?”

Cassidy shook her head. “This is even worse, if you can believe it.”

Larissa’s eyes widened. “You killed someone!” she gasped. “And you want me to help you hide the body?”

Cassidy laughed in spite of herself. Larissa always managed to put her in a better mood.

“No, it’s not quite that bad,” she admitted. “It just …

sucks is all.”

“You need ice cream,” Larissa observed. “ASAP.”

“I really do.” Cassidy ordered her favorite praline sundae from the pimply boy behind the counter.

Even though she’d just finished dinner, she could feel her stomach rumbling in anticipation. What was it about tragedy that triggered such intense sugar cravings?

Once they were settled on a pair of high stools near the window that overlooked the water, Larissa began the inquisition. “Are you going to tell me what this gigantic tragedy is, or do I have to guess?”

Cassidy swallowed a huge glob of ice cream as if she were throwing back a shot of her father’s Wild Turkey. “I have to go to summer school.”

“Summer school!” Larissa screamed so loud Cassidy almost fell off her stool. “Why? You’ve never gotten anything lower than a B-plus in your life.”

“I know,” Cassidy said miserably. “That’s the problem. It’s summer school for smart kids. My parents want me to learn French so I can study abroad and live with Aunt Geraldine my junior year of college.”

Larissa looked confused. “But that’s like a million years away.”

“That’s what
I
said! Can you believe it? If they were any more anal retentive, we wouldn’t need a bathroom.”

“Ew.” Larissa’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “But seriously, Cass, what are you going to do? You didn’t say yes, did you?”

Cassidy didn’t know how to answer. Instead she took another big bite of ice cream and let the cool creamy texture fill her mouth so she wouldn’t have to speak.

Larissa lightly slapped Cassidy’s forehead in dismay.

“You did!”

“Ouch!” she yelped.

“I can’t believe you’re still letting them walk all over you like that. You’re old enough to drive, you should be old enough to stand up to them.”

“I know,” Cassidy said miserably. “But you’ve seen how they are.”

“I do.” Larissa sighed. “They can be tough. But don’t worry, Cass, we’ll figure something out.”

“Yeah?” Cassidy tried not to feel cynical, but she knew she was already locked into French school. All she could do was make the best of it, she supposed.

“I promise,” Larissa assured her. “They don’t call me Ms. Resourceful for nothing.”

“Who calls you Ms. Resourceful?” Cassidy asked.

“Well, our bosses, for one,” Larissa began. “They were all excited about this idea I had to … oh.” Her eyes and mouth opened into three wide O’s of shock. “Wait a minute,” she said slowly. “This means you won’t be working with me at Seersucker this summer, doesn’t it?”

“It does,” Cassidy said. “How much does that suck?”

“Oh, man,” Larissa gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “What am I going to tell Fumiko and Dina? I just talked to them today. They were so happy to have two people who they knew would get along. Now it’s just me. Great, Cassidy … I’m already starting off on the wrong foot.”

“Sorry,” Cassidy said. “I wish there were something I could do about it. Maybe you can find someone else?”

Just saying it made her stomach ache.
She
was supposed to be the one working next to Larissa all summer, not some nameless
someone else
.

“I don’t want someone else.” Larissa looked just as panicked. “You have to get out of it,” she said firmly.

Cassidy shook her head. “I don’t think there’s any way,” she said. “I wish there were.”

“You can’t do this to me, Cassidy!”

“What do you mean, I can’t do this to
you
?” Cassidy asked.

“You can’t just ditch me like this!” Larissa repeated.

“What am I supposed to do?”

As much as she loved Larissa, Cassidy could feel her teeth clenching around the cold metal spoon with annoyance. Sure, it wasn’t
Larissa’s
fault Cassidy was being forced into a summer of French drudgery, but could she maybe offer some moral support regardless?

“It’s not like I’m thrilled about this either,” she said.

“You know I’d much rather work at Seersucker with you.”

“Shit.” Larissa’s head drooped into her open palms.

“This is just great, Cassidy. Now they’re going to have to find someone to replace you. Plus they’ll be mad at me.

This totally blows.”

“I
know
,” Cassidy repeated. She wished Larissa would stop looking out for number one and go back to playing the sympathetic best friend. She didn’t mind that Larissa always made herself the center of attention, but now that Cassidy was in the throes of a crisis, she wanted support, not more bailing out. “Don’t think I don’t feel bad about it.”

“Well, of course it’s not your
fault
,” Larissa conceded.

She absentmindedly dug a Twizzler out of her bag, unwrapped it, and dipped it in her ice cream. “Although I
do
wish you would learn to stand up to your parents.”

“Easier said than done,” Cassidy replied darkly.

“Besides, it’s too late now. My mom already put down the deposit.”

Larissa sighed. “Well, look on the bright side,” said finally. “Maybe there will be cute French guys.”

Cassidy couldn’t help cracking a smile at her friend’s flakiness. “Why would French guys come to America to study French?”

“Oh yeah.” Larissa giggled. “Well, if there
are
any, send them my way.”

“And what would you do with a French guy?”

Cassidy asked suspiciously.

“Oh, you know, French things …” Larissa said vaguely. “Like zip around in his Alfa Romeo and go to wine tastings. And of course he’ll have a boat so we can take you and Eric sailing,” she finished. “Oh,
mon Dieu—

c’est romantique, mon amour.
”

“That’s, like, the entire extent of your French vocabulary, isn’t it?” Cassidy asked through her giggles.

Larissa pretended to look hurt. “Um,
bonjour
,” she added. “Croissant!”

Cassidy was laughing so hard she forgot to be depressed and didn’t remember her problems again until she was back home, trying to sleep with the specter of a summer of misery looming closer and closer in her mind.

Friday was the last day of school, and Cassidy was helping Larissa clean out her locker, which had to be the messiest in all of Malibu High.

“Holy crap,” Larissa said, holding up an apple that looked like it had expired sometime back in the Pleistocene age. “Does this look like the principal or what?”

Cassidy cracked up. The wrinkled apple actually
did
kind of resemble Mrs. Lorimer if you looked at it from a certain angle. Still, she had better things to do than sit around staring at fruit all day. The sign on the bank across the street said it was a balmy eighty-two degrees, and she was anxious to get outside. After all, she’d be spending more than enough time in a classroom soon enough.

“Can you clean a little faster?” she asked Larissa. “I want to get out of here.”

“But Cassidy,” Larissa teased. “You
love
school.

That’s why you decided to go to it all summer.”

Cassidy leaned back against a locker and crossed her arms.

“Okay, look, I’m hurrying.” Larissa dumped an arm-load of loose-leaf paper into a plastic bag. “Go recycle this or something for me, okay? I should be done by the time you get back.”

Cassidy took the bag and headed down the hall toward the recycling bins. When she got there, she noticed a familiar figure lobbing an empty Coke can into the paper bin.

“Hey, Joe,” she said, picking up the can and handing it back to him. “Good toss, but you may want to check what you’re shooting for first.”

“Oh, hey, Cass.” Joe smiled when he saw her, but he looked tired or maybe sad. His yellow Pacific Sunwear shirt seemed to sag off his shoulders as he tossed the empty Coke into the correct bin.

“Everything okay?” Cassidy asked. “You’re not pissed at me for bailing on you at the party, are you?”

“No, it’s not that,” Joe said.

“What’s wrong?” Cassidy asked. “I haven’t seen you this down since Casper died.” She got a little choked up when she thought of their sixth-grade rabbit. It was the first funeral she’d ever gone to.