The Near & Far Series

by Serena Clarke

  “I’ll try that next time.” She smiled back, caught in his gaze. From this angle she couldn’t see the ponytail—instead, she found herself transfixed by his eyes. They were a really remarkable light golden brown. Like a tiger… She worked to pull herself back into focus, also trying not to notice the way his t-shirt stretched across his broad chest. Or the surprising size of those tanned arms. Or the sharp angle of the clean-shaven part of his jaw, and the shadow where it met that tender spot right by his ear… She cleared her throat. God, what had she been going to say? She got herself together.

  “This is actually the most middle-of-the-road accent there is. I’m Cady, by the way.”

  “Reid.” He held out a large hand. “Pleased to meet you, m’lady.”

  Despite herself, she blushed and laughed. “Oh, stop.” But she let him give her a firm handshake. His hand engulfed hers, warm and smooth, and his thumb pressed gently along the softest part of her hand. Her own thumb itched to slide across and play, but she settled for letting her fingers trail along his as she reluctantly let go. It was barely the tiniest hint of suggestion—she was pretty sure he wouldn’t even notice—but after all her dull single months, post-Jeremy, it felt positively wanton. He smiled politely, obviously unaffected by the handshake. She didn’t know whether to be disappointed or not.

  Shelby and her benchmate Gavin shook on their introductions too, but then he lifted her hand to his lips in a knightly parody, making her giggle. “Your Highness.”

  “I could get used to that,” she said, looking pleased.

  “So if you’re not here on royal duties, is it a holiday? Or business?” Reid asked.

  Cady was kind of reluctant to tell all to a couple of guys they’d just met, even though they seemed okay. But when he regarded her with those eyes, she felt her reserve falter. “Well…holiday really. We’re going to have a look around the West Coast. But tomorrow we’re joining in with a big flash mob.”

  Gavin and Reid looked at each other. “Flashpoint,” Gavin said.

  “Yeah. She’s on a mission.” Despite her previous enthusiasm, Shelby’s tone made it clear she was cooler than that. Just in case Gavin thought Flashpoint was not cool.

  Reid looked at Gavin. “Didn’t you go to school with him? What was he voted, like, most likely to succeed or something?”

  “Nah, he was a real asshole. Pain-in-the-ass trust fund kid.” He grinned, and the girls had no idea whether he meant it or not. “Most likely to talk people into doing crazy pointless shit.”

  “He knows what he’s doing though.” Reid looked thoughtful. “They’ve made a splash. Wasn’t he trying to negotiate some big sponsorship deals?”

  “Dude, you have a point. Being an asshole doesn’t prevent you from being a success in this state.”

  “Yeah, it probably helps.” They both laughed and took swigs of their beer.

  Cady and Shelby looked at each other. Cady shrugged, trying not to feel disappointed after their thorough dissing of Kyle. Bill and Ted here might be right—but anyway, who cared what a couple of random guys off the street thought of Kyle? It wasn’t like she had any special attachment to him. She was just here for the escape, and to join in on something fun and uplifting. God knows she needed it. If a complete dickhead was in charge, so what? He was making things happen.

  Purposefully avoiding the unexpected distraction provided by one of those random guys, she looked at the whitewashed brick walls. They were covered with hand-written comments from customers, and doodles from the more artsy ones. She picked up one of the black marker pens sitting in a chipped mug on the table. “I have to do this. Shel?”

  But Shelby was engrossed in a story Gavin had started telling, and waved her away.

  Reid stood up. “I’ll keep you company.”

  “Oh…okay.”

  They both edged out from between the long bench and the table, and he held out a hand for her to go first. They wound their way through the other tables and found a small free space on the wall. But standing in front of it, Cady was suddenly stumped.

  “How stupid. I can’t think what to write. Like when you unexpectedly have to write in a birthday card.”

  “May I?”

  He reached out a hand, and she laid the pen in it. Of its own accord, her hand lingered a moment on his, and she could feel the warmth against her fingers. Then he closed his own fingers around the marker, almost capturing her hand in his before she pulled it back. He gave her a quizzical look, and she was suddenly self-conscious. Wake up, girl, she told herself. One dose of jetlag, and she was going hazy over the first American guy to come near. With the dreaded ponytail, no less, and, if he was here with Gavin, possibly already spoken for. More sleep was what she needed, obviously.

  Then he leaned in close to the wall and started drawing. As she watched, captivated, he effortlessly drew a little castle with a moat and battlements. Out of a window gazed a girl with flowing hair and a dreamy expression. Underneath, he wrote in flowing script: Lady Cady, Castle Middle-of-the-Road, Same-y Lane, London.

  Cady felt her insides tingle as she looked at the sweetly quirky illustration. She peeked sideways at him. “It’s perfection. Thank you!”

  “Hm. I should have put Shelby somewhere.” He tucked a strand of dark hair behind his ear and tapped the marker pen against his chin, considering.

  “Nah. She’s such a pain in the arse.”

  He grinned. “I like it. Aah-s.” With his cruisy, laid-back way of talking, he made it sound just right.

  She laughed. “Oh, right, sorry. Ass.” She worked to perfect it in an American accent. “Aaass.”

  “Aaah-s,” he countered, a wicked challenge in his expression.

  “Aaaassss.”

  A passing waiter gave them a curious look, and Cady suddenly realized she was standing in a public place, shooting a curse word back and forth. She blushed, but Reid was on a roll. “Aah-s,” he whispered back.

  “Seriously, stop!” she admonished him, shaking her head even as she laughed.

  They both looked back at the table, where Shelby and Gavin were deep in conversation. Just then, Gavin stood up and flung his arms out to illustrate whatever story he was telling, then sat back down again.

  “If she is a pain in the ass, they’ll get along great—he’s a complete doofus.” Reid shook his head in mock exasperation, a smile softening the insult.

  “They drive you mad, right? I say that in a loving way, of course.” She smiled, and he returned it to her, the warmth in his golden eyes making her feel suddenly at home. “So you guys are…” She let the almost-question hang in the air.

  He looked at her for a moment, then laughed. “You’re kidding me.”

  She blushed, immediately realizing her wrong assumption. “Oh, God…sorry!”

  “That’s okay.” He was unfazed. “He’s not my type. At all.”

  And Reid was nothing like her type. Shave and a haircut, after all. But still, she found herself waiting to hear what he’d say next, wanting to stand just that little bit closer, tempted to let her gaze linger on those amused golden-brown eyes. Well, despite his straightness, this uncharacteristic attraction to a signed-up ponytail guy had to stop. She was blaming it on that jetlag. Sure, it was nice to know her man receptors hadn’t completely seized up after her dull years—in fact, they were working at maximum with him around—but there was no point in getting any more hot and bothered on his account. Tomorrow they were doing the flash mob, and then the West Coast, and maybe beyond, was hers to explore. Even if it was with her pain-in-the-aaass sibling along for the ride.

  “Come on, our food’s there.”

  She looked over to see that all four of their meals had arrived at the same time, so they went back to the table and sat down. But before they had a chance to talk any more, two long-legged, sun-kissed girls arrived and greeted Gavin and Reid with loud exclamations and a great show of cheek-kissing. The girls stepped into the middle spots on the bench seats, giving Cady and Shelby narrow looks before t
urning their backs to drape themselves over the guys. The signal was clear—the California girls had ownership. Reid sent an apologetic look their way, and Cady smiled and gave a little ‘that’s okay’ wave. She didn’t have the legs, the tan or the inclination to take that on.

  Shelby looked like a baby who’d had her candy snatched away, but Cady passed her the pink salt (Himalayan and kosher, according to the jar) and shook her head. “Just eat,” she advised her sister.

  Shelby frowned, but obeyed. The food was too good to let go cold, anyway, and they were properly hungry. If they both suddenly wished they’d ordered carb-free salads instead of open burgers—the new arrivals were very thin indeed—well, it was too late. Cady made a supreme effort, and avoided looking along the table until they stood up to leave. Then she glanced over, and caught Reid’s eye. He smiled and mouthed bye. She did the same, taking one last look at his handsome face. That was a very nice distraction, on the first day of her new start.

  As they left to walk back to the guesthouse, Shelby looked accusingly at Cady. “You were so wrong. Just because someone’s a bit original in their style, and looks after themselves nicely, it doesn’t mean they’re gay, you know.”

  “I know that! Jeesh. Thanks for the lesson in political correctness.” Looking at her sister’s reproving face, she sighed. This could turn out to be a long and trying holiday. “Remind me again why I asked you to come with me?”

  “Whatever.” Shelby stuck out her tongue. She was obviously still peeved at losing out to a twosome even more terrible than herself.

  “You and those California girls are made for each other.” Cady tried not to think about one of those girls in particular, and what she might be doing later...

  Then she stopped, mid-pavement. “Chris Hemsworth.”

  “Ooh, can you see him?” Shelby looked hopefully up and down the street. “What about him?”

  Cady laughed. “The exception that proves the rule.” Okay, there was one guy who could pull off the ponytail. Maybe two, now.

  And maybe the new Cady (whoever she was) would turn out to be the kind of girl who was susceptible to a ponytail, with a hint of rock god-ness, combined with artistic flair and mesmerizing honey-brown eyes. An interesting development. But she’d have to wait until the next ponytail guy came along to test that theory. For now, it was time to focus on her new, tweet-worthy start—starting tomorrow.

  Four

  Dolores Park was teeming with people by eleven thirty the following day. From their vantage point partway up the sloping hill, Cady and Shelby watched people of all shapes, sizes and shades—young and old, California sleek and lay-it-all-out large—mingle and talk and laugh as they waited for noon. Cady was heartened to see how many people had come for the white team, and by how many of them clearly hadn’t wondered Does my butt look big in this? for even a moment.

  She and Shelby had watched the instruction video for the day’s flash mob on YouTube, and downloaded the mp3 file that would talk them through the routine. Watching footage of the other flash mobs had given them an idea of how big the event might be, but they were still unprepared for the sheer number of people and the electric atmosphere. Judging by the heavy greeny-sweet aroma wafting by every now and then, the ‘atmosphere’ was obviously being enhanced by some. It seemed wholly appropriate. They could see the Flashpoint bus down in the parking lot, looking just like it did on the website—a gigantic silver coach, both retro and space-age at the same time. It towered over the cars around it, proud and shining in the sun.

  From where they stood, the view out over the city was spectacular, and Cady felt a thrill at finally being there. Their mum would have loved this. She made a note to send their dad a postcard at his new place. Maybe postcards were old school, but he’d like it. And it wasn’t like he’d be on Facebook any time soon, after all.

  She took out her phone. “Come on,” she said to Shelby. “I need a photo of you with this view.”

  Shelby jutted one hip forward and put her hands on her waist, tipping her head sideways in an exaggerated supermodel pose. With strands of hair blowing across her face in the Pacific breeze, she actually could have been in an editorial shoot.

  “Next stop Vogue,” Cady laughed, as she took the photo.

  Shelby came and looked at the screen. “Oh! That’s a good one.” Beyond her model self, and then the scattered crowd and assorted palm trees, the jumble of city buildings shone with possibility in the late July sun.

  Cady nodded. “It’s a great photo. And you look so much like Mum.”

  It was true. As well as the same features, which they all shared of course, she had the same determined look, the same set to her chin.

  “I do.” She frowned, thinking. “Where did that money come from? I’ve thought and thought about it. What do you think, really?”

  Cady hesitated. “I don’t know.” Strictly speaking, it was true.

  Then, to her relief, a voice came over the loudspeakers. “Hey everyone! Thanks for coming today.” A cheer went up from the crowd, and when it died down, the voice continued. “Can everyone take their places now please, and don’t forget to be a friend to those around you. Let’s make some history!”

  Cady felt a rush of excitement as they watched the crowd slowly begin to split into two blocks of color. “Shel, come on. It’s starting.” She started to head down the slope.

  “Wait!” Shelby grabbed her arm. “Where will we find each other again?”

  She thought for a moment. New start, starting now…

  “Meet me at the bus. I’m going to say hello to them afterwards.”

  “Really?” Shelby looked at her. “Who gave you a shot of courage?”

  “Been breathing too deeply up here, maybe.” Cady grinned. “Now go! Your people need you.”

  Shelby set off to the black-clothed half of the park, putting her earbuds in as she went, and Cady jogged down to the white half. There was a happy, inclusive vibe amongst her own white-clad people, and although she was alone she felt totally at ease. Up above, camera cranes were ready to film on each side of the park, and she spotted more guys with full-size video cameras on their shoulders. It was a proper production—maybe they could convince their dad to find his way to YouTube to watch it later.

  At exactly noon, the flash mobsters all pressed play on their recorded instructions. The introductory music swelled in Cady’s ears, atmospheric and uplifting, then a deep, resonant voice began to speak.

  “Welcome to today’s special flash mob event. We love that you came to share this unique experience. Please follow the instructions, and enjoy our time together as two sides become one. First, please shake hands with the people around you.”

  There was a lot of giggling and bashful faces, but everyone obligingly shook hands with their neighbors, as though they were in a strange and silent, but welcoming, outdoor church.

  “That’s great,” the voice continued. “Now, on the count of three, please jump in the air five times.”

  At the countdown, everyone jumped—slightly out of sync and not especially gracefully, but with plenty of enthusiasm.

  “Wonderful. Now, please spread your arms and spin around five times, then five times in the opposite direction. Take care not to collide with anyone.”

  Cady hadn’t spun around like that in years, and it only took a few rotations before she started to feel dizzy. But as she finished whirling around in the sun, surrounded by other laughing people whose heads were obviously also spinning, she thought that it was high time she pushed herself a little off center. Actually, that was the whole point of this trip.

  The people who hadn’t come for the flash mob—who were just enjoying a sunny afternoon in the park—looked perplexed at first. Some of them even looked worried at being surrounded by crowds of seemingly possessed people, all going through the silent motions of some unknown routine. But soon bystanders were getting out their phones and taking photos, laughing at the scene playing out in front of them.

  “Excellen
t,” intoned the voice in Cady’s ears. “Now, please turn and face the other team, at the opposite end of the park.” She turned and shaded her eyes, trying to spot Shelby amongst the black-clad crowd, but there was no chance at this distance.

  The voice went on. “When I say go, we’re going to walk toward the opposite team, stopping a few paces apart. But we’re going to alternate between regular speed and slow motion, so listen carefully to my instructions. First, regular speed…and, go.”

  Everyone set off, with a sort of techno walking music soundtrack in their ears. But before they’d taken many steps, the voice came again. “Now, slow motion.”

  The techno music slowed to a distorted kind of caterwaul, still only audible to those listening with their headphones. The people who had been sunbathing or reading in the middle of the grass now found themselves surrounded by flash mobsters doing silly, exaggerated slow walks, inspired by the discordant music. Some got up in alarm and scuttled off, but others let it all flow around them, laughing at the surreal scene.

  They went through more rounds of regular and slow walking, stopping when the front line of each group was an arm’s length apart. Cady was in about three deep on her side, but she could see through to the happy, animated faces of the opposite team.

  “Okay everyone, please take out both of your fabric pieces.”

  Cady reached into the little bag slung across her body and pulled out one black and one white square of fabric. She and Shelby had come equipped, as requested in the video. Now she went with her team as, following the voice’s directions, the two sides flung themselves together. With the white team holding up white fabric, and the black team holding up black, the blending and mixing of the teams was sharply illustrated. As they then alternated holding up the black and white fabric pieces in time to the music, Cady knew that if it was this dramatic on the ground, the cameras above must be getting amazing footage.