by McKayla Box
And I apparently didn't set an alarm, either.
“Crap,” I say, sitting up and rubbing my eyes. “Okay. Sorry.”
Her lips are pinched together and I can tell she wants to say more. She's clearly frustrated with me and I don't blame her.
Finally, she gives me a quick nod. “Your grandfather and I will be waiting.” She walks out of my room and closes the door behind her.
I sprint for the shower, take less than a minute to rinse off, then jump out and dry off. I run a brush through my hair, dab on some makeup, brush my teeth, and rip through the closet until I find a peach-colored sundress that I don't entirely hate. I check the mirror again, find my sandals, and hustle to the living room.
My grandmother is standing by the front door, her arms crossed. My grandfather is lounging on the sofa, the newspaper held up in front of him.
“Ready,” I say.
My grandfather drops the paper to his lip. “Nola. You look lovely.”
“Thanks,” I say. “And I'm sorry I forgot to set an alarm.”
He waves a hand in the air as he stands from the sofa. “We're fine. We'll be there in plenty of time.”
“Only if you run the stop signs,” my grandmother says.
“I can certainly do that,” he answers, winking at me.
I look at my grandmother. “I'm really sorry. I was so tired when I got home and I just forget to set the alarm on my phone.”
She gives me a quick smile. “It's alright, dear. I understand.”
But I know she's irritated with me as we head for the garage and I slide into the backseat of my grandfather's Lexus. I hate that I've disappointed her. Ever since I moved, I've tried not to disappoint her. Or anyone, for that matter. I know how much I've disrupted their lives and I don't want them to regret their decision.
The drive to the country club is short and my grandfather pulls up to the valet stand. A guy in a white golf shirt and white shorts hustles around the front of the car and opens his door before my grandfather can do it.
“Good morning, Mr. Murphy,” the guy says.
“Hello, Tommy,” my grandfather says as he gets out. “We're having breakfast today.”
“Of course, sir,” the guy says. “We'll see you afterwards. Enjoy your meal.”
My grandfather pats him on the shoulder and comes around to my grandmother and me on the sidewalk. It's weird having people wait on us. It started from the first day I got there, but I'm still not used to it. I am grateful that neither of my grandparents treat people terribly. I've seen some of the other people in Del Sol act as if the parking valets and the people holding doors and the people waiting tables are annoying insects. I'm so glad they are not those people.
My grandmother leads us inside and as much as it feels weird to me, I do like the beach and tennis club. Before I got to Del Sol, I'd never been in anything like it. But they brought me the first week I was there and it is like something out of a TV show. Several restaurants, lots of sofas and chairs, a gorgeous view of the beach on the other side of the sprawling club. I've never picked up a tennis racket and my grandfather keeps prodding me to take a lesson. I'm too intimidated after seeing how good everyone seems to be. There's an Olympic-sized swimming pool outdoors and a massive fitness area. The sand outside is lined with chairs and umbrellas just for club members.
We step into the main dining area, a long room with floor-to-ceiling windows that make it seem as if you can reach out and touch the sand and then the ocean. The woman at the hostess stand greets all of us by name. I swear I've never seen her, but she acts as if we are old friends. She takes us to a table at the window.
“I know this is a bit bigger than you need, but I also know you like your window seat, Mr. Murphy,” she says, as she gestures at the table.
He pats her on the shoulder just like he did the valet. “This'll do just fine, Patty. Thank you. Maybe we'll find some friends to join us.”
“Of course,” Patty says. “Enjoy your breakfast.”
We sit and I'm immediately entranced by the waves on the other side of the window. They are small, with lots of white water, and rolling in to the shore in perfect rhythm. I try not to think about the waves I swam through last night.
Our server comes and both of my grandparents order mimosas. I order orange juice and then they ask me about the party. The questions are simple and they aren't prying, which I appreciate. I don't think they are digging for dirt and I mostly give them vague answers that seem to satisfy them for the moment.
“Well, look who has my table,” a tall man with hair the color of snow says, putting his hands on his hips. “You beat us here, you old goat.”
My grandfather laughs. “Your table is out back where no one has to listen to you.” He holds out his hand. “Bob, how are you?”
They shake hands and Bob smiles at him. “Good, good.” He takes a look at me. “And I see you brought the prettiest Murphy along this morning.”
“Yes, I brought Sally,” my grandfather says. “Glad you noticed.”
Bob chuckles. “Let me make a correction. The two prettiest Murphys.”
“Bob, you're too kind,” my grandmother says. “This is our granddaughter, Nola.”
Bob holds his hand out across the table. “A pleasure to meet you, Nola.”
We shake hands.
“Nice to meet you, too,” I say.
Bob wears a short-sleeved, yellow, button-down shirt, and shorts as white as his hair. He is tan, and an oversized watch glitters on his wrist.
“Where is your better half?” my grandfather asks.
“Hell if I know,” Bob says, shrugging. “They stopped to talk to someone on the way in.” He pats his stomach. “But I'm hungry so I kept walking.”
“Who is they, Bob?” my grandmother asks.
Bob smiles. “We are getting to play grandparents today, too.”
“Oh, terrific,” my grandfather says, then gestures at the table. “Join us. We've got room and we haven't even ordered yet.”
Bob raises an eyebrow and looks at my grandmother. “You sure?”
She nods. “Of course.” She turns and smiles at me. “You'd probably appreciate the company rather than having to listen to all of us blather on.”
I smile, but don't say anything because I'm not sure what the right response is.
A woman comes up behind Bob and she's straight out of a magazine. Perfect blonde hair, perfect makeup, a sundress that looks casual but probably costs more than every piece of clothing I own combined. Big golden hoops bob from her earlobes.
“I thought I saw your car in the lot,” she says. “This is lovely.”
My grandmother stands up and they do that weird thing where they kiss each other's cheeks without really making contact.
The woman beams at me. “And this must be the delightful Nola.” She holds out a hand with perfectly manicured nails. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you, dear.”
I stand and shake her hand. “It's nice to meet you.”
“The Murphys have invited us to eat with them this morning,” Bob says.
The woman clasps her hands together like it's the most brilliant thing she's ever heard in her entire life. “Oh, how lovely! Excellent!” She looks at me and her expression grows serious. “And it will give me an opportunity to formally apologize to you, Nola.”
I sit back down in my seat. “Apologize?”
“Why, yes,” she says, frowning. “Apparently, I got my wires crossed.”
“Not the first time,” Bob says, sitting down in the chair across from me.
“Hush, Bob,” she says. She looks at me again. “It was my error, dear.”
“Error?” I ask, completely confused. “I'm sorry. I don't understand.”
“Good lord, Ruth,” Bob says. “Get to the point already.”
Ruth. I know that name, but I can't immediately place it.
Bob twists in his seat. “And where exactly is...oh, there she is.”
I follow his gaze across the di
ning room.
And then my heart stops.
Reese McClure is waving at Bob and heading toward our table.
Reese McClure is Bob and Ruth's granddaughter.
Chapter 26
Reese waves at her grandfather. “I see you. I'm coming.” She starts to say something but then her eyes drift to me and her mouth freezes into an open circle.
Ruth McClure puts her arm around her granddaughter. “Isn't this a lovely surprise, Reese? We're going to have breakfast with Nola and her grandparents.” She smiles at me. “And I was just telling Nola that I needed to apologize for the miscommunication yesterday morning on the first day of school.” She gives me a pained look. “Reese told me that she didn't realize she was supposed to pick you up, so the error was completely mine and I'm so sorry.”
Now I understood what she was trying to explain before Reese showed up. Reese convinced her that she was responsible for my being left alone with no ride to school.
And I didn't believe that for one second.
“It's fine,” I manage. “It worked out just fine.”
“I'm so glad,” Ruth says. “Reese, go ahead and have a seat down there by Nola. That way the two of you can chat while we catch up with the Murphys.”
Reese's mouth finally closes and her eyes narrow. “Sure.”
I watch as she slides into the seat at the end of the table to my right.
It's like sitting next to a viper, waiting for it to strike.
The server returns with our drinks and takes their order. I can feel Reese's eyes on me the whole time, but I refuse to turn in her direction. I listen as our grandparents chatter about people I don't know, laughing and leaning in to share secrets or something they don't want everyone else to hear.
“I can't believe this,” Reese mutters under her breath.
Against my will, I turn to look at her.
“How am I going to eat with you sitting next to me?” she says. “I just want to vomit.”
“Same.”
“Bitch.”
“Bitch.”
“What was that, Nola?” my grandmother asks.
I turn to her and she's looking at me.
“Uh, I said...I have an itch,” I tell her. “On my ankle.” I make a show of reaching down to scratch my leg.
She smiles, pats me on the shoulder, and turns back to her conversation.
“Idiot,” Reese whispers.
I ignore her this time.
The server comes back with their drinks and takes our order. I ask for the pancakes with strawberries. I had them the first time my grandparents brought me and they are the best I've ever had.
“Really?” Reese whispers. “They'll just make your ass look bigger than it already is.” She smiles sweetly at the server. “I'll do the egg-white omelet with veggies.” She holds out her menu. “That'll be more than enough.”
“Maybe you'll die from malnutrition,” I whisper.
“You wish.”
“Like you don't even know.”
“Girls, do you have any classes together?” Ruth asks, interrupting our little spat.
“No, I don't think so,” Reese answers, then looks at me. “I'm in all AP classes and I didn't see you, Nola. Did I miss you?”
She's trying to make me feel stupid and it's working.
“No, we don't have any classes together,” I say.
“Oh, that's a shame,” Ruth says. “Well, hopefully you'll have time to do things after school. Are you involved in any extracurriculars, Nola? Cheerleading, perhaps? I'm sure Reese would welcome you onto the Del Sol squad.”
“No,” I say quickly, and I realize it comes out sharper than I meant it to. “I mean, no, I'm not a cheerleader. I'm not really sure yet what other stuff I'm going to do.”
“Maybe swimming,” Reese says. “She's a great swimmer.”
I glare at her.
She smiles back at me and I think I can see the poison on her teeth.
“Swimming?” Ruth asks. “Really?”
I turn back to the table and all four of the adults are looking at me, particularly my grandmother, who seems genuinely puzzled.
“She swam last night,” Reese says. “At Archer's party. In the ocean?”
“What?” my grandmother says, alarmed.
I know that my face must be the color of a tomato. “It was nothing.”
My grandfather leans in. “Did you swim to the buoy, Nola?”
Reese's comment has done exactly what she intended. Turned all of the attention on me and not in the best of ways. I can see the concern in my grandmother's face.
“In the ocean?” she asks. “Nola, I...”
“Hush, Sally,” my grandfather says. He gazes sternly at me. “Did you do it?”
Reese stifles a laugh.
I hesitate, then nod. “Yeah.”
“Nola,” my grandmother says in a disapproving tone. “That is dangerous.”
Ruth McClure shakes her head. “We've been trying to get that stopped for years. It just makes no sense.”
My grandfather exchanges a look with Bob. I just want to get up and walk out. And I know Reese is loving every second of it.
My grandfather looks at me for a moment, then his face breaks into a big grin. “Bob and I did it back in ancient times.”
Bob laughs and nods at him. “And this old goat won it. Beat me by about three feet.”
They both laugh so loudly that other people in the dining room glance in our direction.
“I won,” I blurt out. “I mean...Archer and I did. We had to swim in teams.”
“Get out of town!” Bob says, genuinely excited. “Good for you, Nola. A chip off of your grandfather's old block.”
My grandfather holds his hand up over the table and I give him a high five.
“That's my girl,” he says, winking at me.
I look at Reese and her smile is gone.
“I don't think I heard,” I say. “Where did you finish, Reese? I was celebrating so I don't think I saw you come in.”
Pink flashes through her cheeks. “I...don't remember.”
“Ah,” I say.
Ruth McClure makes a clicking sound with her tongue. “Girls, it is not safe to be out in the ocean at night. I really wish you hadn't done that.”
“Likewise,” my grandmother says.
“They're both fine,” Bob says. “And they'll never forget that they did it. Look how Fred and I turned out.”
The two old men dissolve into laughter again.
But Reese definitely is not laughing, and that makes me happy.
Chapter 27
I manage to make it through breakfast without choking Reese and we leave shortly after we finish. When we get home, I pick up my room and go through some of the papers from the first day of classes, reading through the syllabi and marking a few things on the calendar in my phone. I'm getting everything in my backpack when there's a knock on my door.
“Come in,” I say.
I'm surprised when Mercy peeks around the door. She holds up a hand. “Hey.”
“Hey,” I say. “What are you doing here?”
“My mom asked me to run to the store,” she says. “I just wanted to stop by and see what you were doing. Can I come in?”
“Yeah, duh,” I say, waving her in.
She comes in, closes the door behind her, and sits down on the floor across from me. “Where did you go last night? I felt bad. I went looking for you and couldn't find you.”
“Totally my fault,” I tell her. “I got sort of pissed at Archer and I couldn't find you, so I just decided to bail. And then it sort of went downhill. Or more downhill.”
“I'm sorry,” she says. “I was talking to this guy that I sort of dated last year. We went for a walk and then when I came back, I couldn't find you.”
“Totally fine,” I tell her. “Really.”
“Did Archer find you?” she asks. “I went to him to see if he'd seen you and he said he hadn't and then he left. I assumed he went to find you.�
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“I'm surprised he could pry himself off of Megan or whatever her name was.”
Mercy laughs. “I don't think he was interested in her.”
“He was interested in a part of her.”
“Probably. But when I told him I couldn't find you, he dropped her like a stone,” she says. “But why did it go downhill? Was he a dick after he found you or what?”
“Not him,” I say. “But Heath was.”
“Heath?”
I tell her how he tried to give me a ride and what happened in his car.
“That asshole,” she says, shaking her head. “Total bullshit.”
“Pretty much.”
“I'm sorry,” she says. “I shouldn't have left.”
“Not your fault,” I say. “If I hadn't been such a baby, I would've stayed and waited for you and it all would've been fine.”
“Still,” she says. “Text me next time. Chicks before dicks.”
We both laugh.
“But Archer did find you?” she asks.
I nod. “Yeah. He basically wouldn't leave me alone until I got in his car.”
“How was that?”
“It was fine, actually,” I tell her. “I was rattled after the shit with Heath, but he brought me home and it was all good.”
“Good,” she says. “No one needs to deal with two assholes in one night.”
“No,” I tell her. “Was bad enough that I got Heath last night and then Reese this morning.”
Her eyes go wide. “Excuse me?”
I give her the rundown on breakfast at the club.
“Oh, god,” she says, making a face like she's eaten something sour. “She is so awful.”
“She really is. She was absolutely trying to bust me and it blew up in her face.”
Mercy laughs. “Good. Fuck her.”
“I just wish she'd leave me alone.”
“You're an easy target,” she says. “And if Archer is interested in you, then you're a bigger target for her.”
“Why?”
“Because she's always had a thing for him,” she explains. “Always. And if she can't have him, then no one can. So she was just being her normal bitch self when she didn't give you a ride. But after Archer picked you and then you beat her?” She shakes her head. “Now you might as well have a bulls-eye on your forehead.”