Summer surveyed her beach bag with satisfaction. After nine long months of Minnesota weather, it was nice to get back to the basics. She consulted the mirror in her bathroom. The two-piece bathing suit she’d bought to wear over spring break still fit, more or less.
She checked the clock on the ancient stove. Diana would be waiting for her up at the main house. Well, she could wait another minute or two.
Summer grabbed the phone book from the kitchen cupboard. It was tiny compared to the fat white pages back in Bloomington. But as she’d hoped, Aunt Mallory had supplied her with the newest edition, hot off the presses.
She sat at the kitchen table, turned to the R’s, and scanned. Ranson, Redman, Ruiz. Nope, back a little.
Reed, Aaron M.
Reed, Augusta.
Reed, Carl.
Summer breathed a sigh of relief. No Reed, Austin. Could be he hadn’t moved down there after all. Could be he’d been calling from Missouri, where his family lived.
Could be he was living a couple of blocks down the street and he’d just gotten his phone the week before.
Summer closed the phone book with a groan. Maybe she’d call information later. Maybe not.
Maybe, when you felt the hand of fate swooping down at you, it was better not to know exactly when or where it was going to hit.
“Can you believe it? Here we are, just like last summer,” Marquez exclaimed. “Only Summer’s wearing an engagement ring, I’m about to be the first person in my family to graduate from high school, and Diana…” She sat up on her beach towel and lowered her shades. “Well, Diana’s leaving her coffin much more frequently these days.”
“One other change,” Summer noted. “You have lost so much weight, Marquez. You look fantastic.”
“Fantastic as in ‘Marquez was such a whale before, and now she looks more like, say, a manatee’?” Marquez asked. “Or fantastic as in ‘Marquez was such a pig before, and now she looks like, say, Ms. Slender Teen Cuban-American of Crab Claw Key’?”
“How about second runner-up?” Diana suggested.
Marquez tossed a handful of sand at her. “It’s not like I’m fishing for compliments, exactly. It’s just that after J.T. broke up with me, I felt like such a complete loser, and now I’m starting to feel like the new, improved Maria Marquez.”
“How did you do it?” Summer asked. “You’ve lost a lot of weight, Marquez.”
“I know.” Marquez laughed with pleasure. “I look down at my thighs sometimes and I think, whoa, somebody call the cops and file a missing-person report.”
“But how?” Summer persisted.
Marquez shrugged. “Running on the beach, mostly. Plus my neighbor was throwing away her old exercise bike, so I grabbed it out of the trash. That’s cool, because you can exercise while you watch Letterman.”
“You exercise that late?” Summer asked.
“She exercises constantly,” Diana said, with that hint of disapproval that always ticked off Marquez.
“Way to be sensitive,” Marquez said, rolling her eyes. “I’m cursed with fat-thigh genes. Some of us have a lonely battle to wage.”
Diana flipped the page of her newspaper, fighting the ocean breeze. “I just think you’re getting a little obsessed, that’s all.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to understand, Diana. You’re the only person I know who can eat an entire pound cake and actually lose a pound.” Marquez shook her legs. There was still a trace of cellulite here and there. Another inch gone would be nice. Two would be better.
“Well, I’m very proud of you,” Summer said.
Marquez grinned. Man, it was nice to have Summer back. Diana was the kind of friend who took work. She was critical and just a little too smart for her own good. Not that Summer wasn’t smart, too—but she had the good sense to accept you the way you were, no questions asked. She was the perfect hanging-around, all-purpose best friend.
Diana held up her yellow highlighter in triumph. “I’ve found it! Listen to this.” She folded her newspaper and marked an ad. “‘Three-bedroom, two-bath charmer on Coconut Key, ocean view, beach access, Jacuzzi, pets okay.’”
“How much?” Summer asked eagerly.
Diana cleared her throat. “Twenty-two hundred.”
“A month?” Summer cried. “That’s, like, my entire income last summer waiting tables.”
Diana shrugged. “I was just fantasizing. Okay, so we’ll downsize a little.”
“Try a lot,” Marquez advised.
“How many bedrooms?” Diana asked. “Maybe we should get an extra for visitors.” She cast a grin at Summer. “What if Seth and Austin show up at the same time? We’ll need extra room, won’t we, Summer? Or at least a very big bed.”
“Austin?” Marquez repeated.
“He’s ba-aack!” Diana said. “He wrote Summer. He called Summer. And he promised to see Summer very soon.”
Marquez grabbed Summer’s arm. “You are kidding! The same Austin Reed who almost caused you to break up with Seth?”
“Yes, that would be the one,” Summer replied dryly. “Now can we drop it?”
“Right. You know me better than that.”
Summer reached for her sunscreen and re-coated her arms. “I believe we were discussing our apartment,” she said, sending Diana and Marquez a frosty look.
Marquez knew what that look meant: Let it go for a while. Fine, she could take a hint. But one way or another she’d get the truth out of Summer eventually.
“It should be quaint,” Summer continued. “I want my first real apartment to be something I’ll remember forever.” She paused. “Of course, in a way the stilt house is my first official apartment.”
“Doesn’t count,” Diana said, tapping her highlighter against the paper. “It’s your aunt’s.” She frowned. “You know, Mallory did say we could live at our house this summer, but I told her we wanted to suffer.”
“Let me get this straight.” Marquez sat up. “You said no to a free gigantic house with big-screen TV and a billion bedrooms?”
“Don’t forget the espresso maker,” Diana said.
“I hate espresso. But I love money, and this could save us a bundle.”
“Marquez,” Diana said reasonably, “Mallory would be there. A maternal unit would be living in your midst.”
“Yeah, I see your point. She is a little nutty.”
“She’s way past nutty. She’s trail mix. She’s—”
“Okay, we’ll rent.” Marquez didn’t want to get into that again. Diana was very generous with her money, which she had way too much of. But she just didn’t get not having money. It wasn’t that she was insensitive, exactly. It just didn’t occur to Diana that not everybody’s mother was a bestselling novelist who drove a Mercedes.
And really, Mallory wasn’t so bad. Or was it the fact that Marquez’s parents were moving to Texas the day after next that made having a mom around seem tolerable? It was fine to complain about your mom, until you started thinking about what it would be like not to have her around to complain about.
“Marquez?” Summer asked. “You okay?”
Marquez adjusted her sunglasses. “Me? Yeah. Hey, I’m about to be an official graduate of John F. Kennedy High. Of course I’m okay. I’m way okay.”
Diana rolled onto her side, observing Marquez with that annoying look that made Marquez feel as though her head were transparent. “Wasn’t there something you wanted to discuss with Summer?” she said pointedly.
“You know, it’s not like I’ve ever had trouble moving my mouth, Diana.”
“You get no argument here,” Diana said. She jerked her head at Summer.
“What?” Summer said. “Tell me, Marquez.”
Marquez stared off at the ocean. A gang of seagulls was squawking uproariously over some shared bird joke. Laughing gulls, they were called. Summer’s brother had taught her that. Diver knew all about birds and animals.
Summer nudged Marquez with her foot. “What, Marquez?”
“It’s abo
ut Diver,” Diana said softly.
Marquez took a deep breath. “See, the thing is, Summer, with you coming to my graduation tomorrow…” This was way too hard. Marquez hated getting stuck in the middle of other people’s problems. But there she was, stuck big-time.
“You want to know about Diver.” Summer bit her lip. “If I’ll be okay if he comes, too.”
Marquez nodded. “If you don’t want him there, he’s really cool with it. He understands. I mean, he’s the one who ran out on your family. He’s the one who’s been holed up here in Florida for the last few months.”
“It’s fine, Marquez.” Summer smiled, but Marquez could see the effort that went into it. “I wouldn’t ruin your graduation for anything.”
“And the party at my house after,” Diana prodded. “He’ll be there, too, Summer.”
“It’s okay,” Summer said, more insistently this time.
“I was a little worried,” Marquez admitted, “when you went to talk to him over spring break and didn’t go through with it.”
“It wasn’t the right time,” Summer said flatly.
“And now it is?” Marquez pressed.
“It’ll have to be.”
“He misses you, you know.”
“I guess he should have thought of that before running out.” Summer’s voice was biting.
“Still, it’ll be great having you both there tomorrow,” Marquez said soothingly.
“I wish Diver could have been there for mine.” Summer gave a tense smile. “It was hard. My mom and dad didn’t even sit together.”
Marquez played with the edge of her beach towel. She knew Summer blamed Diver for their parents’ separation. Wrongly, Marquez felt, but she wasn’t about to tell Summer that. The girl was bummed enough.
The laughing gulls were sniping at each other, nipping at feathers as they fought over a piece of seaweed. This wasn’t going to be easy, dating Summer’s brother while living with Summer. It was going to make Marquez the go-between and conciliator. The UN of the Smith family.
Marquez groaned. Could World War Three be far off?
6
A Big Day for Marquez, a Bad Day for Summer
“There she is,” Diana whispered. “Our little graduate.”
Summer and Diana waved frantically from their seats in the bleachers. Marquez waved back.
John F. Kennedy High was a much smaller school than Summer’s, and its size translated into a much more informal graduation ceremony. For one thing, it was being held outside, on the football field, while Summer’s had been inside the cavernous gymnasium. For another, this was Florida, and it was nearly ninety-two degrees outside. That meant the assembled spectators were dressed in Crab Claw casual: shorts, T-shirts, even bathing suits.
By comparison, Summer, in her ribbed blue tank dress with a straw belt, was dressed up. Diana was wearing a denim miniskirt with a halter top. But the rest of Marquez’s family, her parents and five brothers, were wearing their stiff Sunday best. This was a big occasion for them. Marquez’s parents had come to the U.S. from Cuba when Marquez was just a little girl. They’d had nothing but the clothes on their backs and their hopes.
“You must be very proud of Marquez,” Summer said to Mrs. Marquez.
“Look at her sitting there, so serious,” her mother said with a laugh. She had the same huge eyes, naturally olive complexion, and dark tangle of curls as her daughter. “You’d think she was going to the dentist.”
“Maybe she’s worried about Diver showing up,” Diana pointed out.
Summer glanced down the bleacher rows. Still no sign of her brother. She felt a terrible mixture of relief and sorrow. She knew how much Marquez wanted to have Diver there that day. But Summer really didn’t want to face her brother, not yet.
She’d tried over spring break. She’d gone to the wildlife sanctuary where Diver lived and worked. She’d come within a few feet of him. But the words just hadn’t been there.
Diana nudged her. Marquez’s mom and dad were kissing and whispering. Summer fingered her diamond ring. They looked so happy. Was it possible to stay in love when you were old enough to have a daughter graduating from high school? Summer’s parents hadn’t.
True, Summer’s mom and dad had suffered in ways most parents only had nightmares about. Diver had been kidnapped from them as a child. And when he’d finally been reunited with them, the strain had been more than he could handle. He’d left after only a few months of halfhearted effort and returned to Florida.
And after he was gone, the fights between Summer’s parents had begun. “It’s your fault for pushing him too hard.” “It’s your fault for not pushing hard enough.” “If only you’d tried harder.” Each whispered accusation was another broken thread, until the whole fabric of Summer’s life had unraveled before her eyes. The week before Summer left for the Keys, her mother had set up an appointment with a divorce lawyer.
A small woman bustled onto the dais and tapped the microphone. “Welcome, friends and family of our wonderful graduating seniors!” she exclaimed. She went on to extol the virtues of the graduating class. They were the adults of the future, the hope of tomorrow, the shining beacons in a troubled world.
Listening to the familiar words, Summer found it hard to believe she herself was a high school graduate. In three short months she would be a real, live college student at the University of Wisconsin. It seemed impossible.
She tried to imagine herself walking to class with Seth past the pretty brick campus buildings she’d visited earlier that year, but the image wouldn’t stick. It didn’t feel like her school, not the way Bloomington High had seemed like her personal campus by the time she was a senior.
Sometimes she imagined herself on another college campus—Carlson, the one in Florida that her English teacher had encouraged her to apply to. She’d been accepted, but Seth hadn’t, and that had pretty much ended that discussion. Besides, it had been just a whim. It was a tough school, too rigorous for Summer. She would never survive the academic competition. And of course she wouldn’t dream of going to college without Seth.
Diana nudged her. She pointed to the football field.
Striding across it toward the bleachers was Summer’s brother. His hair was a shimmering sun-streaked blond, his tan dark. He scanned the bleachers with intense blue eyes.
His gaze locked on Summer, and her heart stuttered. He didn’t smile or turn away. He just looked at her with his open, hopeful, accepting, beautiful face.
She wanted to do something, maybe wave or smile. But she just sat there, stunned, frozen by old pain.
Slowly Diver made his way up the crowded bleachers until he came to Marquez’s family. He took a seat at the other end, as far as he could get from Summer and Diana.
Marquez saw him and gave a little wave. He waved back, grinning broadly. He did not look at Summer again.
Summer couldn’t help looking at him, though. He was wearing the suit her parents had bought for his halfhearted job-hunting efforts back in Minnesota. He’d refused to wear it, saying it cramped his style and that if he couldn’t get a job wearing jeans, he didn’t want a job. There’d been a fight about it, a long one. Summer had taken her dinner to her room that evening to avoid the sharp words.
And now there he was, in ninety-plus degree heat and humidity that would wilt a piece of steel, and he was wearing the stupid suit.
Sure, he could wear it there, then, when it didn’t matter anymore.
When it was too late for her parents to see it.
“They make a cute couple, don’t they?” Diana said early that evening.
Summer nodded sullenly. Marquez and Diver did look great together as they danced on the Olans’ wide, sloping lawn. The graduation party was in full swing, packed with Marquez’s classmates and family members. A popular local band played on the patio. Mallory had called in her favorite caterer to provide the food. Colorful Japanese lanterns swayed from the trees in the twilight, and tiki torches burned at the edge of the water.
“This is probably the best graduation party on the key,” Summer pointed out. “Marquez is really grateful that you went to all this trouble.”
Diana shrugged. “You know Mallory. Any excuse for a party—and she adores Marquez.” She sipped from a paper cup of lemonade. “Still, it would be nice if Marquez could at least say thanks.”
“I think money stuff is kind of tough for her. Her parents lost the gas station, and now they’re moving. She’s not even sure she can swing college tuition.”
Diana nodded distractedly. “Speaking of tough situations,” she said, eyeing Summer, “you haven’t said two words to Diver yet, have you?”
“I haven’t said one word. It’s like we’re invisible to one another. Which is fine by me.” Summer winced at the anger in her voice.
“Uh-oh. Mallory’s waving me over. That can only mean a catering crisis.” Diana brushed off her skirt. “Want to come?”
“Yeah, I’d be a lot of help in a catering emergency.” Summer rolled her eyes. “We don’t have caterers in Bloomington. We just nuke some Jeno’s pizza rolls and call it a day. I’m going down to the stilt house to change into some shorts.”
“You’re not going to hole up and pout, are you?”
Summer pretended indignation. “I’m a high school graduate. High school graduates do not pout.”
“Nobody ever told me that.”
“It’s at the bottom of your diploma, in really fine print,” Summer said.
She crossed the wooden walkway to the stilt house. With each step the raucous music and swell of voices receded a little. The truth was, she did want to hole up in her house until the party ended—or at least until Diver left. But how long could she keep that up? What was she going to do when she and Diana and Marquez got a place together? Ban Diver? Lock herself in the bathroom every time he showed up?
“Hey, Frank.” The pelican was sitting on the railing near her front door. He blinked and fluttered a wing.
Inside the stilt house, the music was just a throbbing bass line, like rhythmic thunder. The kitchen was cool and shadowy. Summer didn’t turn on any lights.
Tan Lines: Sand, Surf, and Secrets / Rays, Romance, and Rivalry / Beaches, Boys, and Betrayal Page 3