Beach Blondes

by Katherine Applegate; Michael Grant

  “Do I look different than I usually do?” Well, it couldn’t hurt to ask.

  “Duh,” he said. “Back home you’re always wearing all these big, floppy things, and scarves and coats and all, and glasses.”

  “I don’t wear glasses,” she said.

  “Really? Huh. I thought you wore glasses.”

  “No.”

  “Anyway, you just need to dress more like this,” he said.

  “I can’t exactly wear a bathing suit and a football jersey to class,” Summer pointed out.

  Sean smiled. “It would be kind of cold. All I know is, I saw you here, and you were this totally different girl. You’re all tan and you look really hot. You don’t mind if I say that, do you? I mean, about looking hot. Because you do.”

  “Thanks. Probably deep down inside I’m still the same humble, average girl, though,” she said, with the first sarcasm she had shown toward him. He did not notice.

  Sean laughed. “Who cares? You and I will be the coolest-looking couple at this big party, this Bachelorama.”

  “The Bacchanal.” Okay, so Diana was right. He was not a genius.

  “Bacchanal. Party. Whatever, right?”

  Summer tapped her foot against her chair distractedly. “Actually, Sean, I’m not sure about that. I—I kind of already told this other guy I’d go with him.”

  Sean didn’t try to hide his surprise. “What guy?”

  “This guy I met down here,” Summer said, gazing at her plate of fish.

  “Can you call it off?” Sean asked. It sounded more like an order than a question. “I mean, seriously. What’s the point of a little summer fling, when you and I have something that could last?”

  Summer couldn’t even respond. Sean didn’t strike her as the most astute guy in the world, but it was almost as if he’d read her mind.

  He reached across the table and took her hand. “Please? This whole summer has changed for me since I found you—”

  He pulled her around the table and onto his lap. Summer resisted, but not with any sincerity.

  He kissed her.

  He was not a bad kisser.

  “Because I feel like a total creep. I feel like something that would get stuck on the bottom of your shoe if you walked through a gas station bathroom. I feel like a criminal. Like someone should track me down and arrest me and throw me into jail and beat me with sticks.” Summer made a face that expressed total self-loathing, absolute disgust with herself.

  Diana just grinned. “Arrest you? Who would that be? The Love Police?” She laughed her dry, not-quite-sincere laugh.

  “It isn’t funny.” Summer threw herself on Diana’s bed and curled up in a ball. “I have to hide somewhere. I can’t let Seth find me yet. I would just blurt out everything. I can’t believe I let him kiss me. I am such scum.”

  “Ah, self-loathing,” Diana said brightly. “You’ve come to the right place. I know all about feeling like scum. But you chose the wrong place to hide out. I mean, there’s still one TV truck camped out in the driveway.”

  “I thought there were six,” Summer said.

  Diana shrugged. “I guess the others went off after some other story. I heard some supermodel freaked out and shot her husband. Anyway, I guess that’s a bigger deal than poor little Ross Merrick, who couldn’t quite…anyway.”

  The phone rang. Summer jumped.

  “If that’s Seth, I’m not here!”

  Diana picked it up, listened, arched an eyebrow. “Diana. Who else would it be?” She listened some more. “Yeah, Summer is here…. Uh-huh. Yeah, she’s all upset because she let that guy with the hairy chest kiss her.”

  Summer leaped up off the bed and menaced Diana with her fist. “If that’s Seth…”

  “Relax. It’s Marquez.” Into the phone she said, “Come on over, then. Just tell the TV guy you’re our maid.”

  Marquez arrived twenty minutes later, looking disgruntled and cranky. Once again Summer wondered if Diana and Marquez had somehow switched personalities.

  “The TV guy isn’t there anymore,” Marquez told Diana.

  “No one?” Diana seemed surprised.

  “He was driving off just as I came up,” Marquez said, “tearing out of here so fast I thought maybe he found out about, you know, how you feed on human souls.”

  “Maybe he just got a look at that blouse,” Diana said, sneering at Marquez’s outfit.

  “So,” Marquez said to Summer. “Tonsil hockey with the big dumb guy from Bonzoburg.”

  “Bloomington,” Summer corrected automatically. “And it was mostly him doing it.”

  Marquez winked at Diana. “Mostly,” she repeated.

  “I just keep thinking, what if Seth had walked by right then?” Summer said.

  “Yes, that would have been bad,” Marquez agreed. “Although maybe it would do him good. You know, guys get so arrogant when they think you like them. It never hurts to put them in their place a little.”

  “I don’t want to put Seth in his place,” Summer wailed.

  “So then what’s the deal?” Diana asked. “Why are you going out with Sean and mostly letting him kiss you?”

  Summer shrugged. “You guys wouldn’t understand.”

  Marquez clapped her hands together briskly. “Yeah, you’re right. So now what should we talk about?”

  Summer ignored her. “Look, Sean Valletti is the cool guy at our school.”

  “It’s a sad little school, isn’t it?” Marquez said.

  “You don’t think he’s cute?” Summer demanded.

  “Cute? Sure, he’s cute,” Marquez said. “Big deal. Cute is fine. But look, even I don’t think cute is everything. I mean, if cute was all anyone cared about, we’d all three be going after Diver, since he is undeniably the cutest guy on planet earth.” She paused and in a deeper voice added, “Totally cute.” Then, as if snapping out of a momentary trance, “But look, as cute as he is, there was nothing there. You know.”

  “Just because when you kissed him he ran screaming for the nearest exit,” Diana said.

  “That’s not exactly how it happened,” Marquez said sharply. “Although…close enough,” she admitted.

  Diana just smiled, a smug, faraway expression that intrigued Summer.

  “My point is,” Marquez continued, “that just being cute or popular is not everything. And I’m shocked that you, Summer, of all people, would be affected by such superficial considerations.”

  Diana agreed. “Yes, I always thought of you as deep and sort of moral, you know?”

  Marquez put her arm around Diana’s shoulders, and the two of them slowly shook their heads at Summer. “Your mother and I are very disappointed in you, Summer,” Marquez said solemnly.

  “Yeah, right,” Summer said. “You can’t say anything, Marquez. You’re the one who taught me that relationships shouldn’t mess up your life. That’s why you were chasing Diver, because you kept saying how nice and low-stress it would be, no heavy emotional stuff like with J.T. Plus you were the one telling me about the end of summer, how Seth would go off one way and I’d go off the other, and I’d be devastated.”

  “You took romantic advice from Marquez?” Diana asked, rolling her eyes.

  Marquez winced. “Look, forget all that. Okay? Do you like this Sean guy?”

  Summer sighed. “Actually, it was kind of a surprise. He’s this major cute guy, and every girl is all hot for him. But it turns out he’s kind of a jerk.”

  “Kind of a jerk?” Diana said.

  “Kind of a jerk in the way that Bloomington is kind of cold in January,” Summer clarified.

  “And how do you feel about Seth?” Marquez asked.

  “I’m totally in love. Like I get these warm flashes every time I think about kissing him. Like when I think about not seeing him, I feel sick to my stomach.”

  Marquez actually smiled. “Well, then, duh. Even you can figure this out.”

  “But summer’s going to end. How can I stay with him when I know that it’s going to be re
ally painful?”

  “I guess if you love someone that much, you have to accept the fact that it can end up being painful,” Marquez said solemnly.

  “I do not believe I’m hearing that come out of your mouth, Marquez,” Diana said. “If that’s true, then why aren’t you going with J.T. anymore?”

  Marquez looked mightily uncomfortable. “Oh, that. Did I mention that we’re back together?”

  Summer and Diana just stared at her.

  “It’s no big deal,” Marquez said. “It’s not like it’s happily-ever-after time.”

  Suddenly there was a light tapping sound at the glass door of Diana’s balcony.

  Summer jumped. Marquez cursed. Diana smiled.

  “Call the cops,” Marquez hissed. “This is the second floor!”

  But Diana opened the door. The shock when Diver stepped inside was total. At least it was for Summer and Marquez.

  “I didn’t want to ring the doorbell,” he offered by way of explanation.

  “That’s okay,” Diana said. “You don’t have to worry about my mom.”

  Diver looked down at the ground. He usually seemed rather serious, but now he seemed several stages past serious. His mouth was grim, his eyes uncharacteristically evasive.

  “I, um, thought I’d better come tell you, before someone else told you,” he said to Diana.

  “What?” she asked sharply.

  “Out in the bay. The harbor patrol is out there. They’re fishing out a body.”

  “Someone drowned?” Marquez asked.

  Diver nodded. He kept his attention focused on Diana. “I was out there, and a guy I know came by in his boat. He told me who it was. I didn’t want you to hear about it on TV or something. It’s Ross Merrick. The harbor patrol say it was an accident. Ross is dead.”

  They watched from Summer’s deck, the deck where Diver spent most nights sleeping. The sky was clear and the stars were out, blazing gloriously overhead.

  Brighter, though, was the searchlight of the harbor patrol boat, making an artificial noon out of a few square meters of black water. Other small craft had clustered around—the curious, anxious to find out what was going on. And on one of those boats Diana watched a second bright light appear—the light of a television camera.

  The body of Ross Merrick had already been dragged aboard the harbor patrol launch, but they weren’t leaving yet. Everyone was hanging around in hopes of being on TV, Diana thought cynically. Or, to be grim, they were looking for some kind of evidence associated with Ross’s death.

  Diana, Summer, Marquez, and Diver watched as a boat left from the dock of the Merrick estate. It sped toward the scene, slowing as it neared. Two silhouettes were visible. Diana had little doubt who they were: Adam and his father. Adam, going to identify his dead brother. The senator, going to view the remains of his eldest son.

  Diana turned away, unnoticed by the others. She sat on the far edge of the deck, looking back toward her own home, so reassuringly bright in the night. Her own bedroom window, glittering through the branches of the trees.

  It was odd, she thought, watching the way emotions boiled up within her, watching herself as if she were really up there on her balcony looking down at this sad little spectacle.

  It was hard to sort out any one single emotion. The first, instant reaction had been pity. For Adam, mostly. She had loved Adam once. And Adam had never been all bad. Not even mostly bad. He was just loyal to his brother and, more important, loyal to his father.

  She even felt a small share of pity for Ross. Nothing he had done—not even what he had tried to do—deserved death. She supposed he had been drunk, as he usually was. Probably while out in the Merrick boat, recklessly high, he’d fallen overboard.

  However he had died, it was a shame. Ross had deserved to go to jail. He had needed to get some help. He had not deserved to end up facedown in the bay with his lungs full of warm salt water.

  Diana shuddered at the image. These gentle, familiar waters would never again seem so benign.

  There was another emotion too. It struggled with the decent emotions of pity and concern. It was dark and evil, and yet it pushed its way to the surface of her mind repeatedly. Triumph. Not joy exactly, but a cruel, animalistic sense of triumph. Ross had been made to pay for his assault on her. He had paid. He would never again threaten her or any other woman.

  Diana noticed that her leg was pressed against a small, metal box with a hinged lid. It was battered and rusty, and had been shoved under an overhang of the eaves.

  She opened it, idly curious. Inside were things she recognized—the clothing that she and Summer and Marquez had bought for Diver. It brought a faint smile to her lips. The store tags were still on every item.

  She lifted the clothing, and underneath saw more things, junk mostly. A key chain in the shape of a tiny buoy; a cheap disposable razor; a bar of soap; a small, tattered book of poetry; bits of string; Band-Aids; and a chewed-up ball.

  “Diana?”

  Summer’s voice. Diana quickly dropped the lid on the box.

  “Diana? Are you okay?” Summer came and sat beside her.

  Diana tried to still her emotions. She didn’t want to betray anything to the others. They would understand pity. They would never understand, or forgive, those darker feelings.

  “Sure,” Diana said. “I just didn’t want to watch anymore.”

  “I understand,” Summer said. “This wasn’t your fault. You know that, right?”

  “Yeah, it was probably because Ross got drunk,” she said. “He drank a lot, even before all this.”

  “Exactly.”

  “I didn’t want this to happen,” Diana said.

  “Of course you didn’t,” Summer agreed.

  “I mean, no, really,” Diana insisted, as if Summer had argued. “No way did I want this to happen. I was mad, sure. I did try to get him to…to deal with what he’d done. I mean, I’m sorry. I even said I was sorry that his father got dragged into it and that it had to become this whole scandal, with TV and everything.”

  “Diana, listen to me,” Summer said. “This is not your fault.”

  Why did Summer keep saying that? Diana wondered angrily. Of course it wasn’t her fault. She didn’t kill Ross, for heaven’s sake. She had just been trying to get him to admit…to deal…to…

  “I wanted to hurt him,” Diana whispered.

  Summer said nothing. Behind her, Diana could feel Marquez and Diver watching her silently.

  “I wanted revenge,” Diana said softly. “I wanted him to suffer. I wanted them all to suffer. That’s what I wanted. I…I guess…” She couldn’t talk anymore. Her throat had closed up, and her stomach felt as if it might heave at any moment.

  “Got to go,” she said through gritted teeth. She slithered and scraped her way down to the walkway and ran blindly toward the house.

  “I have to go after her,” Summer said.

  “No, leave her alone,” Diver said.

  “But she’s hurting, Diver,” Summer protested. “I know what she’s thinking, I know what she’s feeling.”

  Diver smiled crookedly. “No, you don’t, Summer,” he said gently. “I do. Let her be alone.”

  13

  Video Blog

  Anyway, Jennifer, those are all the exciting times here on beautiful Crab Claw Key. Diana has turned back into Diana—withdrawn and snippy and antisocial. I’ve tried to talk to her a couple of times over the last few days, but as usual, she isn’t easy to get close to. Diver just says to leave her alone. For some reason he’s now the expert on Diana. The cops have dropped the whole thing because no one really sees any point in investigating. The senator says he’s going to resign. I guess you saw that on TV. He looked sad.

  Marquez and J.T. are back together, which means they’re always either having these screaming fights or else they’re making out.

  The four of us, me and Seth and J.T. and Marquez, went out as a group the other night. It was kind of cool, because obviously I love Seth, and I really lik
e hanging out with Marquez, and J.T. and I have this relationship…I don’t know, it’s kind of hard to define, really. I guess it’s a little like brother and sister. He teases me and I tease him back, but we also feel kind of close. Maybe I’m starting to get adjusted to the fact that he really might be related to me. I guess now I kind of hope he is, because despite the fact that he’s temperamental and can get into these really deep low points, he’s mostly funny and sweet.

  Maybe you’ll get to meet him. You know, if. And if, and if, and if. And if! My entire life is one big if. I wish I could be sure of just one thing. Is J.T. Jonathan? Are Seth and I going to stay together? What about the fact that I can practically see the end of summer coming?

  Fortunately Sean Valletti has been off on his uncle’s boat. They went up to Miami for some stupid reason, and I think by the time he gets back he will have totally forgotten I even exist.

  I know, that does sound strange, doesn’t it? It used to be I thought it would be the greatest thing in the world if Sean even noticed me. Now I hope he gets over me.

  But you know how I drive all the men wild with desire.

  I really hope Seth never finds out. It was just this stupid flirtation because I used to have a crush on Sean. Really immature of me, I know.

  Anyway, tomorrow is the Bacchanal, the big street party. Marquez totally lives for this thing. I got the night off, so I’m going. Seth, naturally, hates the whole thing. Seth isn’t exactly Mr. Wild-Dance-in-the-Streets, but he says he’ll meet me there, for part of the time at least.

  I wish you could be there, Jen. I miss you. Things get so weird around here sometimes. It would be nice to have someone around who knows me the way I really am. For some reason I’ve been thinking a lot about home lately. I’m not exactly homesick, but it’s as if this vacation has gotten bigger and more important than I ever thought it would be. It was supposed to just be…like punctuation. A period at the end of the sentence. Then on to the next sentence.

  But somehow it has changed everything. What if J.T. really is Jonathan? My life back home won’t be my old life back home anymore. And then there’s Seth. Like I said, it’s all ifs.