Waking Up to Boys (2 page)

C
helsea hurried from her family’s chalet-style house along the short gravel path to the main lodge, hoping she wouldn’t be late to the orientation meeting. The sun was just starting to dip below the lake’s surface, and the air had picked up a bit of high-elevation chill. She shivered slightly, wishing she’d remembered to throw on a track jacket over her Adidas T-shirt. Her mind raced with thoughts about Todd.

I need to suck it up and get over Todd already,
she told herself, picking up her pace as she walked. It was time to move on and wake up to the other fish in the sea. As she shoved her hands deeper in her pockets, she vowed to herself that this would
finally
be the summer when she would move on, kick Todd’s butt in the Challenge, and maybe
even find herself a real boyfriend—the kind she could actually date outside of the fantasy world in her head.

“Chelsea?” a cheerful male voice shouted from several feet behind her on the path. Chelsea broke into a smile when she saw Leo Clarke, the lanky, scruffy-haired bartender from the Lakeside Lounge.

“How’s my little resort rat?” he asked, wrapping her in a big hug so that her face scratched against the rough material of his flannel shirt.

“Who’re
you
calling a resort rat?” Chelsea teased as they continued down the path, arm in arm. “I’m glad they managed to drag your butt off the mountain so you could join us this summer. How was Snowmass?”

“Sweet—poured a lot of beers, hit a lot of powder. Got a new pair of telemarking skis!”

Chelsea shook her head and chuckled. Like much of the resort’s summer staff, Leo was a ski bum just looking to make a few extra bucks in the summer. His chill, personable demeanor made him the most popular bartender at the resort’s watering hole.

“So hey,” Leo said right before they reached the entrance to the lodge. “We’re having a, uh…you know. Tonight. Out on the island. You in?”

A huge grin spread across Chelsea’s face. She knew secret keggers on the lake’s single island were a longstanding tradition amongst the summer staff, but this was the first one she had been explicitly invited to.

“Definitely,” she said, trying to sound casual as Leo pushed open the heavy double-glass doors, letting Chelsea follow him into the lobby, with its rough-hewn hemlock beams, thick Indian carpeting, and tasteful nature photography. This early in the season, the place was devoid of tourists, but they both waved to Juanita at the front desk before heading up the sweeping staircase that led to the mezzanine.

The library was already full of summer staffers, excitedly greeting one another after a long winter apart. The crackle of voices and laughter competed with the loud hisses and pops of the fire roaring in the huge stone fireplace against the north wall. As Leo went bounding across the room to greet Tim from the Mountain Bike Shoppe, Chelsea looked around. Mel Boyer, who worked at the spa, caught her eye and waved, and Chelsea squeezed through the crowd to join her and Sienna Jameson, the other resident massage therapist.

“Hey, how was your winter?” Chelsea asked, giving both girls quick hugs.

Sienna laughed and shook her head. “I’m glad it’s over!” she said. “The past semester nearly did me in.”

“Seriously,” Mel agreed. “We were both taking like eighteen credits
and
working. We totally need a vacation.”

Just then Chelsea’s parents bustled in and quickly dimmed and brightened the lights several times to
indicate that the meeting was about to start. Chelsea hurried to the back of the room and slipped into a seat that was conveniently tucked between two high bookcases, hoping she looked inconspicuous. She always felt kind of embarrassed to be in the same room as her parents when they were doing their “We Own This Place and You All Work for Us” act. Most of the summer staffers actually raved about how cool Mark and Patty McCormick were to work for; she just didn’t want to remind anyone of the connection—it made trying to blend in that much more difficult.

But now that she was finally old enough to get invited to the staff parties, maybe all of that would change. She hoped. She couldn’t help wondering who would be at the party. Would Todd be there?

Stop,
Chelsea reminded herself sternly.
You’re not thinking about Todd anymore, remember?

“Well, I don’t know about the rest of you….” Mark McCormick was already well into his standard staff announcements. Some girl—Natalie or Nina or something—had just said hi to everyone, but Chelsea’s thoughts were still on the island party and her ride with Todd earlier, so she was surprised to suddenly hear a new voice. A very smooth, slightly accented voice—a
totally hot
voice. She peered past some heads to the front of the room.

The boy who had been introduced was standing
there. He had a smooth, olive-colored complexion, a strong jaw, and penetrating black eyes. Despite his angular features, he had a soft, playful smile.

“Hi, I’m Sebastian. It’s great to be here,” he started, softening his vowels and rolling his
r
s. “I am from Brazil, where I compete in tennis tournaments, including the South American Open. I’ve been playing since I was six, and teaching for three years, since I was sixteen. I am looking forward very much to getting to know all of you.” As he said these last words, his gaze landed on Chelsea and lingered a moment.

Normally if a cute guy looked at Chelsea, she would have stared down at the floor, watching her Reefs shuffle back and forth. But this time she managed to hold Sebastian’s gaze and even give him a tiny smile. Something clicked in her head just then. The way to get over an agonizing, pointless crush? Flirt with a cute stranger! Not that Chelsea really knew how to flirt properly, but that was beside the point. She could always learn.
Good-bye, Todd! Hello, hottie foreign tennis guy!

Suddenly, Chelsea realized Sebastian wasn’t the only person in the room looking her way. In fact, everyone was turning toward her, smiling and clapping. What was going on? What had she missed?

She realized her dad was directing his speech toward her. “Chelsea,” he said in his warm, rich baritone, “I couldn’t be happier to give you this promotion. After
two years of lifeguarding, you’ve more than earned your place next to Todd as a wakeboarding instructor.”

She heard Leo whoop, and Mel and Sienna grinned at her. A flush of pride and sheepishness hit her at the same time. Wakeboarding instructor! So
that
was her dad’s surprise!
Awesome.

“Thanks,” Chelsea managed to stutter. “I’m honored.” Understatement of the year. Her first island party, a promotion to wakeboarding instructor, and a hot new staff member who might or might not have been looking her way—things were certainly starting to look up. She smiled and took her seat as her father wound down his speech.

“Last, but—as you’ll certainly agree—not least, I’d like you all to give a warm welcome to my other daughter, Sara,” Mark boomed proudly.

Chelsea did a double take.
Sara?!
As in, her half sister, the total princess who lived in Palm Springs?

Sara, who had apparently been sitting near the front of the room all along, rose gracefully and turned to face the rest of the staff. “Hi, I’m Sara, and I hope you’ll all join me for a hike around Glitterlake this summer.” Sara smiled, absentmindedly smoothing the top of her platinum blond ponytail. “I’ve always loved plants, and I’ll be starting as a botany major at UC Santa Cruz in the fall. I’ve lived and worked at the Desert Winds Resort and Spa in Palm Springs for most of my life, so I know
my way around resorts…but I can’t wait to get started giving nature tours here. I’m excited to work and hang out with all of you.”

Even though Sara hadn’t said anything that spectacular, Chelsea noticed that the guys in the room were hanging on her every word. She wondered if it was because of the chatty way Sara spoke, or because she happened to be a dead ringer for Scarlett Johansson.

Nature tours?
Chelsea rolled her eyes. This must have been her dad’s
other
surprise. This would be interesting.

Instinctively, she glanced toward where Todd was sitting to see how he was reacting to everything. But he was chatting to someone sitting next to him, oblivious to Chelsea. As always.

C
helsea checked her watch—nearly midnight—and zipped up her fleece-lined warm-up jacket. Sliding her small Petzl headlamp into the pocket, she turned off her light and carefully closed the door to her room behind her, holding her breath as the door clicked softly shut. She tiptoed down the hall and paused outside the door of the room that had, up until that morning, been the guest room. Now it was Sara’s room. Chelsea couldn’t quite get used to the fact that her half sister was actually going to be living in the room next door to her for the summer. She hadn’t even seen her since the eighth grade, and even then it had been obvious that they were—how to put this nicely?—two very different people.

Chelsea wondered if she should knock on Sara’s door and invite her along—but then she realized that she hadn’t seen Sara since the meeting earlier. It would probably just be awkward, and she didn’t want anything to ruin the night ahead. Island parties had been a tradition for as long as Chelsea could remember, but as “the owner’s kid,” she had never been invited along. Maybe with her new promotion, they would start seeing her as one of them. Tonight was going to be the beginning of a whole new Chelsea in their eyes, and she couldn’t wait. Then again, if she
didn’t
ask Sara to come, too, would everyone think she was just being mean?

Chelsea stood outside Sara’s bedroom door for several long seconds. She could tell from the dark crack under the door that the light wasn’t on, and she couldn’t hear any sounds coming from inside, so she figured Sara was asleep. She was probably tired from the trip, Chelsea decided. Besides, she was probably used to posh parties in clubs—why would she even want to go to an island party in the first place?

Chelsea continued down the hall and sneaked down the stairs to the front door, relieved that she didn’t have to bring Sara along—just in case Sara might have told her parents. Chelsea had always wondered if her parents secretly knew about the island parties and had just decided to turn a blind eye as long as the staff didn’t trash the island and nobody got hurt—but just in case
they really didn’t know, Chelsea didn’t want to do anything to risk them finding out.

Down on the dock, Leo was directing a small crew as they loaded coolers full of beer onto the boats, guided by the beams of their mountaineering headlamps. Chelsea switched on her Petzl and grabbed an armful of firewood. She had just heaved it into the back of one of the boats when she saw Sara walking toward her, holding a bag of marshmallows and whispering with Sienna.

“What are you doing here?” Chelsea asked. She must have sounded harsher than she meant to, because both girls gave her funny looks.

“I was just hanging out at the barracks,” Sara said. “I came with everyone else.”

“Oh,” Chelsea said. “Cool.” Her cheeks flushed. Sara had been invited to the party, too? The same party Chelsea had been waiting her entire pathetic life so far to get invited to? Not only that, but Chelsea had been to the staff barracks only a handful of times. It had always felt to her like a secret clubhouse that she could never really belong to. Apparently Sara could.

“Everyone ready to go?” Leo asked. He grinned as Chelsea hopped easily into the driver’s seat, and he then stopped to extend his hand to help Sara.

“Let’s go,” Chelsea whispered once the backseat was full. Mel, Sienna, Leo, and Sara all huddled together. They began to glide slowly out of the dock, and Chelsea waited until they were a good distance from shore before pushing the boat full-throttle. Cheers and giggles came from the back as a white wake sprayed up behind them, and soon the boat was skimming quickly over the water as a strong headwind whipped wisps of hair across her face.

Although she was concentrating on driving, Chelsea could hear snippets of the conversation behind her. Leo was telling a story about running into a bear on one of his backcountry skiing excursions, and everyone was alternately gasping and laughing at his comedic delivery. But then Leo did something he almost never did: He stopped in the middle of a sentence.

“Hey,” he said to Sara. “You’re shivering—are you cold?”

“A little,” Sara admitted. “But it’s my own fault…. I didn’t realize how cold it gets in the mountains at night.” Chelsea smirked. She had wondered why Sara hadn’t changed out of her white sundress from earlier. Now, seeing the easy way that she flirted with Leo, Chelsea realized it was probably all part of Sara’s scheme to have every guy on the planet fawn over her.

“That’s why a mountain man like me always dresses in layers,” Leo joked. He was already unsnapping his
black-and-red-checked wool hunting jacket to reveal a thermal hoodie. “Rule number one about partying at high elevation: No matter how hot it is during the day, it still gets really cold when the sun goes down. Here, put this on.” He handed the jacket to Sara, who gratefully slid her arms into its sleeves. She looked predictably cute.

Once he’d made sure that Sara was all right, Leo continued with his story, and Chelsea tuned out, wondering for the millionth time what the party would be like. Was that cute Sebastian guy going to be there…or—she couldn’t suppress the thought—Todd? Would she be able to say the right thing without coming across as annoying?

She cut the motor and let the boat drift the last few feet to the island’s rickety dock. There were already several other small motorboats docked there, some of which she knew didn’t belong to Glitterlake. Word of the party must have gotten around to staff at the other resorts on the north side of the lake. The sound of guitar music and the smell of woodsmoke drifted down to the dock from the fire pit and Chelsea breathed it in as she helped unload coolers, thinking that the smell of a campfire was a sure sign that summer had really begun.

“This is spooky,” Sara whispered as the group followed the wobbling beams of their headlamps up the well-trodden path to the fire pit.

“You can’t seriously be scared,” Chelsea said incredulously. But even as she said it, she realized that she was a little nervous, too. It was late and the woods on the island were dark. Plus, what if they got caught?

“I’m kinda spooked, too,” another girl piped in. It was that girl from the meeting earlier, Nina or whatever. “But in a fun way. Like at a haunted house or something.” Sara grabbed Nina’s arm, and the girls charged ahead toward the sounds of music and voices.

The fire pit was set in the middle of an open grove of pine trees not far from the water’s edge. For as long as anyone could remember, the pit had been surrounded by large flat stones and thick fallen logs, and an ancient picnic table rotted nearby. At the moment, a roaring fire illuminated the faces of the revelers, surrounding the group with an orange glow. Summer staffers from all over North Tahoe lounged, laughed, and chatted on the stones and logs, and the picnic table was piled high with snacks.

Chelsea’s heart caught in her throat when she noticed Todd standing off to the side, the firelight illuminating his sharp, masculine face as he put his hands out to his sides, obviously demonstrating a new wakeboarding move to some guys from the Ridgetop Grille. Chelsea quickly took off her Petzl and ruffled her matted hair.

Instead of going over and listening to him brag about
how great he was on a wakeboard, though, Chelsea wandered over to the picnic table to grab a long stick and a marshmallow to roast. Tim from the Mountain Bike Shoppe looked up from where he was assembling s’mores and smiled, brushing his shaggy brown hair out of his eyes. “Hey, Little McCormick,” he said, “long time no see. How’s it going?”

“Great!” she answered, cringing slightly at the old nickname. She sat down to talk to him. But her butt had barely touched the bench before he lowered his voice and moved closer. “Hey,” he asked, cocking his head in Sara’s direction. “Who’s that new girl you came up with?”

“Oh, that’s my half sister,” Chelsea explained, wanting to roll her eyes. She smoothed her hair out of her face. “She’s here for the summer. She’s doing plant walks or something.”

“Really?” Tim looked at Sara wistfully. “Introduce me?”

“Sure, whatever,” Chelsea said, feeling more than a little annoyed.

“Yo, Sara,” Chelsea called over the din of people talking. Sara looked around and immediately headed toward them, smiling the social-butterfly smile that Chelsea could barely believe she would have to look at all summer.

“What’s up?” Sara asked, giving Chelsea a perplexed look. A cold breeze rustled the trees around the fire, and Sara pulled Leo’s jacket tighter around her shoulders.

“Oh—this is Tim. He wanted to meet you,” Chelsea blurted. Tim kicked her under the table before smiling warmly at Sara and extending his hand.

“Chelsea never told me she had a sister,” he told Sara. “I was curious to see what you’re like.”

“Half sister,” Chelsea grumbled, running her finger against a heart with the initials
A + K
carved into the table. But nobody seemed to hear her. In the meantime, it looked like Tim might be blushing. It was hard to tell in the dark.

Tim’s best friend, Ethan, joined them. At well over six feet, he towered above the group, his face shadowed by a fur-trimmed hunting cap. “Hey,” he said, punching Tim lightly on the shoulder. “How’s it going, man?”

“Can’t complain, bro,” Tim replied, punching him back and sliding a little closer to Sara.

“Hey, hi—I’m Ethan.” Ethan held out his hand to Sara, who was still smiling politely. “So you’re a McCormick, too, eh? Two Daddy’s little girls we have to watch out for!”

Chelsea rolled her eyes. Tim had at least bothered to ask how Chelsea was doing, but Ethan—whom she’d known since the first grade—hadn’t even said
hi
to her before falling all over himself to meet Sara. Ethan had always been a little overeager around girls, but this was ridiculous.

She tuned back into the conversation long enough to
hear Sara telling the guys that she was from Palm Springs.

“Is everyone down there like you?” Ethan asked. “Because if so, I need to take a road trip!”

Instead of blushing or telling him to shut up like Chelsea would have, Sara just laughed. “You guys should go check it out.” She tilted her head and shook out her pale blond hair, which obviously acted as some kind of man-attracting signal, because three seconds later, Joel and Ted came bounding over, practically colliding with each other as they each dived to offer Sara a beer.

“Sorry, I don’t accept drinks from strangers,” Sara teased.

“But if I tell you my name, I’m not a stranger,” Ted retorted playfully.

Chelsea felt sick to her stomach and wondered if anyone would even notice if she threw up. She grabbed her marshmallow stick and wandered away from the Sara Admiration Society and found an empty rock by the fire. Maybe she just wasn’t the partying type. She knew these people, so why was she feeling so awkward? She leaned toward the fire pit, searching for a nice hot patch of coals to roast her marshmallows. The only way to do it without setting them on fire was to keep turning them steadily over a bed of glowing embers. She found a spot and began rotating the stick, letting the marshmallows grow brown and crisp.

But her technique was ruined as the smoke made her eyes teary. She was trying to wipe them without dropping the stick when she heard Todd’s deep, throaty laugh.

Chelsea whirled around, inadvertently sending her nearly done marshmallow smack into a burning log, where it immediately incinerated. Todd was standing over by the coolers, talking to a girl with long dark hair. She wore a cream-colored blazer, dark jeans with black ankle boots, and had a small black leather backpack slung casually over one shoulder. Chelsea thought she looked like she had just stepped out of
Lucky
magazine.

“Vanessa, let me get this straight: You’re terrified of
water
. And yet you let your so-called friends talk you into a vacation on Lake Tahoe?” Todd was asking, leading her closer to the secluded rock where Chelsea was sitting. Clearly, they hadn’t noticed her sitting there.

The girl shrugged. “It was either here or Guadalajara,” she said. “And I’ve been there before—I got food poisoning.” She laughed easily, touching Todd’s shoulder. So this Vanessa girl was
a tourist
. Todd had brought some tourist chick to the staff party. And they were all worried they’d get in trouble for having Chelsea there. Chelsea didn’t know if she wanted to throw up or punch something.

Todd leaned closer to Vanessa. “And then these same friends let you go off with some guy you hardly know, to an island smack in the middle of said lake.”

“I guess my safety is in your hands, then,” the girl murmured, raising her eyebrows.

“I guess I’ll just have to protect you, then. C’mere—I want to show you something,” Todd said, taking her hand and leading her toward the woods. Chelsea winced—she could guess what Todd wanted to show that girl. It was a small wood cabin (that had probably been a hunter’s hideout at some point) that the summer staffers around North Tahoe had dubbed the “Shag Shack.” Even Chelsea had been privy to the stories. Apparently each year, someone made sure it was equipped with an air mattress and sleeping bag.

She watched as they disappeared into the darkness of the woods.

Chelsea’s stomach felt like the empty black shell of her former marshmallow. There was no way Todd would ever be interested in her. She didn’t have long perfect hair or cute clothes, she had no idea how to flirt, and she’d never even been near the Shag Shack. She was half-tempted to just get up and go home.

“Excuse me,” said a voice so close to Chelsea’s left ear that she jumped slightly. The new tennis instructor, Sebastian, was standing next to her, holding two ice-cold Sierra Nevadas, one of which he extended toward her. “I brought you a drink.”

“Gee, thanks,” Chelsea blurted sarcastically, still distracted by the image of Todd slinking off with Vanessa.

Sebastian’s smile faded, and his big black eyes narrowed. “Sorry,” he said softly. “I just wanted to talk to you. I’ll leave you alone.”

“Crap,” Chelsea murmured to herself as he turned to leave. Sebastian was the only person at the party who had paid any attention to her at all. What was wrong with her?