by Emily Lowry
In the two minutes it took me to fire Ashley, a line had formed at the register. The milkshakes would have to wait.
“Good evening, welcome to Beachbreak Burgers. Sorry for the wait — what can I get for you?” I took the next three orders before jumping back on milkshake duty. My phone vibrated insistently in my apron pocket, probably messages about Hailey Danielson’s end-of-year bash, but there was no time to check right now.
“You look like a hot mess.” The voice belonged to my little sister, Sofia. She’d come through the back and was already tying an apron around her neck. “Need a savior?”
“You’re late,” I said, smiling.
“Probably because I seated a few people who booked the river side tables on my way in. That’s right — I was working before I even got to work. Boom.” She mimed an explosion with her fist. “Where’s Ashley?”
“Fired her.”
“About time.”
“Are you going to be all right out there? It’s packed.”
“Pfft. Have you met me?” Just like that, Sofia was off. My sister was shy and insecure with almost everyone outside of our immediate family and her best friends. We joked that Sofia was so ridiculously competent that she could run all of Beachbreak by herself, blindfolded and with her arms tied behind her back. It wasn’t really a joke.
I finished mixing milkshakes — two chocolate, two strawberry, and one caramel — delivered them to their tables, then finally checked my phone.
Four new messages. The first was from our school’s notorious gossip app, Click.
School takes a break for the summer, but high school drama doesn’t. It starts tonight with Golden Girl’s annual rager. 8pm, sharp. Rumor is that Stonewash Sunrise is making an appearance. But don’t get too excited, ladies — Trey Carter’s taken.
And remember — we’re going to pick a new fave to follow this summer. Who will it be? Get your votes in.
I ignored that one. Click was a horrible app that spread life-ruining rumors. My best friend, Chase, had been a victim earlier this year. Click alleged he was a cheater. The lie almost broke up him and his girlfriend, Abby, before they even got started.
The second message was from Chase.
Chase: Yo dude, we’re headed to Hailey’s now. Need a ride?
The third message was from Jordyn, an hour later.
Jordyn: Please hurry. Abby is eating Chase’s face, and at the rate she’s going, she’ll be done soon. WHOSE FACE WILL ZOMBIE ABBY EAT NEXT? MINE? YOURS? STAY TUNED FOR THE NEXT EPISODE OF: MY BROTHER’S ZOMBIE GIRLFRIEND.
I laughed. Jordyn had a way with words.
Dylan: Stuck at work. Be there in a few hours.
The last message was from Lauren, the girl I was seeing.
Kind of.
It was complicated.
Lauren: Where are you?
The service bell rang. I shoved my phone back in my pocket without replying.
“Give me a hand in the kitchen?” Luis shouted over the sizzle of burgers.
I went into the kitchen, grabbed a knife, and started dicing onions, ignoring the sting in my eyes. “Where’s dad?”
Luis wiped the sweat from his brow. “Out back. Needed to sit for a minute.”
The unsaid words hung heavy in the air. Dad was looking thinner and paler by the day. Something bigger was wrong — not that he would ever admit it.
“Where’s Ashley?” Luis asked.
“Got rid of her.”
“Yeah?” Luis flipped a burger. “And who do you have in mind to replace her?”
“A fencepost could probably do the job.”
Luis laughed. His face was lined with stress beyond his twenty years. “Maybe, but we’re going to need more than that. You decide to get rid of her, you have to find her replacement. That’s how it works.”
“Not a problem,” I said. It was obvious we needed more help.
“Don’t you have a party to be at?”
“No time for that,” I said. “Some idiot fired the waitress and now we’re understaffed.”
“We’ll survive,” Luis replied. “Sofia could run this place by herself. I’m probably just getting in her way. You worry about Beachbreak later. Go out and have fun.”
I glanced around the bustling kitchen. Orders were stacked along the pass. We were so far behind that the finish line wasn’t in sight. “I’ll get you through the backlog first.”
“Good man.” Luis clapped me on the shoulder. “But you have fun after.”
“Will do,” I said.
The party could wait.
3
Jordyn
A million twinkling fairy lights hung from the pergola in Hailey’s backyard. Clusters of silver and black balloons lined the yard’s perimeter. In one corner, oversized speakers flanked a small stage. In the other, tiki torches circled the pool, which was filled with floating unicorns. And the hot tub? State of the art, complete with its own light show.
Hailey had a reputation for being extra — one of the many reasons I loved her.
A hired helper wheeled cases of soda on a dolly. One good thing about Click, the app that everyone loves to hate? It made everyone think twice about drinking. Get drunk, do something stupid, and it would be splashed across Click the next morning. Especially if you were popular. I was hyper aware that though I wasn’t Chase, if I did anything too crazy, it would affect him. And his future. No way was I taking that risk.
Hailey slipped through the party, smiling and greeting everyone, the perfect hostess. She was dazzling in her black bandage minidress, her gold hair falling in perfect curls. She smiled at the man wheeling the cases of soda, tipped him, then instructed him to put them in the corner.
I loved Hailey, but I hated standing next to her. While she looked like she belonged on a red carpet, I was wearing cutoff Levi’s and Chucks, looking much more suited to a country music video.
But why would I bother dressing up? Who was there to impress?
Pete Landry? Evermore’s backup quarterback had been obsessing over me since forever. If I wore a garbage bag he would’ve told me it was a bold and beautiful choice, a brilliant critique on the disposability of modern fashion. Dylan liked to tease me about Pete. He said I looked like I’d rather be getting a cavity filled than hanging out with my sort-of-but-not-really boyfriend.
Pete was nice. That was enough, wasn’t it?
Hailey’s boyfriend, the notorious Trey Carter, casually strolled through the yard, guitar case by his side. He appraised the stage area. “It’s not exactly Prohibition.”
“And you’re not exactly a star,” Hailey said, grinning.
“Yet.” Trey smirked. He was the perfect example of a boy who was not-just-nice. Evermore’s bad boy turned local music star was smoking hot, dark and broody, but simultaneously willing to jump in front of a train for my best friend. Whenever Trey was around, Hailey got all giggly and flustered.
Had I ever felt like that with Pete?
Don’t open that door, Jordyn.
Trey set down his guitar case, lifted Hailey off her feet, and kissed her.
“All that for getting you such a small stage?” Hailey said, raising her eyebrows.
Trey waved the idea away. “Nah, I just like that dress thingy.”
“Bandage dress,” Hailey corrected him. Her new nose stud sparkled under the fairy lights.
Meanwhile, I was busy being invisible.
Before Trey could pick her up again, I roughed my way between them. “HI TREY!”
Trey ruffled my hair like I was six years old. “Hi Jordie.”
“Jord-yn.” I scowled, adjusted my hair, and glared at Hailey. “Your boyfriend thinks I’m your pet dog.”
Hailey rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, don’t pretend you spent any time doing your hair.”
“Nothing wrong with being a pet dog,” Trey added. “You know I love b—”
“TREY!” Hailey cut him off with a squeal, and smacked his shoulder.
He grinned devilishly. “Gotta go, Jordie. More stuff
to unload.”
Hailey acted offended, but her puppy dog eyes followed Trey as he went to unload his van. His band, Stonewash Sunrise, were taking center stage at tonight’s bash.
“Your boyfriend’s a tool,” I said.
She couldn’t wrench her gaze away from Trey. “You know you love him.”
“He’s a slight improvement on Adam, I’ll give you that. But only slightly.” That wasn’t true, and we both knew it. Trey was a tremendous improvement on Adam. Yes, he was sarcastic and rebellious, but he legitimately wanted what was best for Hailey. That was what mattered.
“So,” Hailey said, still watching the boys at the van, “DeAndre is still single—”
“And I’m not.”
“You and Pete are official?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“So you’re single.”
“I didn’t say that either.”
“Has he even kissed you?”
“That’s not the point.”
“So, no.”
“I think he’s too nice to try—”
“So you’re single.”
Steam whistled out of my ears. “No, Hailey. Absolutely not. No, no, no, with a capital N-O. No matchmaking tonight.”
The last thing I needed right now was some disastrous set up with another boy I had no feelings for. My parents were acting like children, Chase and Hailey were both gone for the summer, and I was on the job hunt. I had no time for boys, my priority was to figure out a way to get out of my house.
“Fine, I won’t play Cupid,” Hailey said, pouting slightly. “But you have to have fun tonight. Or if that’s too hard, at least be civil to my cheer friends.”
“I promise nothing.”
4
Jordyn
Cloying perfume suffocated me, a product of the gaggle of cheerleaders in miniskirts. Somehow, I found myself among them, studying them, trying to fit in, like that researcher who went and lived with the gorillas.
Madison Albright, my brother’s ex-girlfriend, held court, telling a mind-numbing story about her stupid hair extensions. How could a story about hair be taking soooo long? And why did everybody else actually seem to care? After the thirteenth complaint about her hairdresser, I sighed.
A little too loud, apparently, as Madison glared at me. “Am I boring you, Chase’s sister?”
Oh, so much.
I gave Madison a thin-lipped smile. “Not at all, please continue. I’m on the edge of my seat.”
Madi narrowed her cat-like eyes, flipped her glossy dark hair, and continued, completely unruffled.
Beside me, Lauren Cowley checked her phone for the millionth time and stamped a pink stiletto in frustration. It sank into the lawn, and when she tried to pull it out, her shoe came off. “Ugh. Grass is just the worst. And where is Dylan already? Like, I told him to be here like two hours ago.”
So, he hadn’t texted her. Chase wouldn’t have been surprised. He said Dylan wasn’t really into Lauren, and was having a hard time getting that information through to her. He might not have texted Lauren, but he texted me. He was staying late at work.
Not that I was going to tell her.
Pettiness, thy name is Jordyn Jones.
Lauren crouched and yanked her stiletto out of the grass. “Chase’s sister? Do you, like, know where he is?”
“You’re the one dating him,” I replied, my voice flat.
Lauren went pink, then white, then pink and white all over. “We’re not dating. We’re… uh… well, it’s casual. If you must know. It was a mutual decision.”
Madison waved her hand dismissively. “As if you want to be casual with him.”
World, stop the presses. For the first time in my life, I was on the same page as my least favorite person. Casual? Lauren was so not casual. She literally Photoshopped him into her Click profile picture. Even then, it was a well-known fact that Dylan Ramirez never got serious with girls. He dated them because it was expected for a star football player to date a cheerleader, but a long-term relationship? True love? Definitely not his style.
I mean, I figured it out and stopped crushing on him. Why couldn’t Lauren get it?
“So, like, you don’t know where he is?” Lauren tilted her head back as she spoke, literally putting her nose in the air. Like she was better than me. “Chase is his best friend.”
“Observant, aren’t you?”
“And you’re Chase’s sister.”
“Two for two, Lauren.”
“So, can you, like, ask Chase where Dylan is?”
What was I, her personal assistant? I gestured to the pool, where my brother was lying on a lawn chair, his arm around Abby’s shoulders. They were attached to each other’s faces, as usual. As much as I liked Abby, dealing with their constant making out was as fun as an algebra exam. “You ask him,” I said.
“But why can’t you?” Lauren tugged at a lock of her shiny blonde hair, genuinely confused.
Ugh. Why did she want to see Dylan so bad? He literally never talked about her.
“I smell food,” I said. I stepped away from the cheer squad and went over to my new best friend: the food table. There were six different kinds of pizza.
One of each, thanks.
“Jordyn?” Pete Landry stepped in line beside me. He smiled nervously.
I folded a slice of Hawaiian in half and stuffed it in my mouth. “QB2,” I mumbled through my mouthful of pizza. A piece of pineapple fell from my mouth and caught on my shirt. I plucked it from the fabric and shoved it back where it belonged.
“Are you having a fun time at this party?”
Oh, Pete. He spoke like he was an awkward dad trying to pretend he was cool.
Slice of pizza still hanging from my mouth, I threw my arms open, gesturing at the yard of sloppy high schoolers making out, dancing, and splashing in the pool. “Best night of my life. The glittering highlight of my existence.”
“That’s good,” Pete said sincerely. “I’m glad you’re having a good time.”
Why did I even bother trying?
Stonewash Sunrise finished their set and EDM music started blaring through the yard. Hailey was on the dancefloor with Trey, her arms wrapped around his neck. I guess she needed to get all the time she could with him before her trip.
Chase and Abby were still playing tongue twister by the pool. Chase would be gone soon, too.
And me? Little ol’ Jordyn Jones was soon to be both jobless and friendless for the summer.
I spun away from Pete.
Time to find something to hit.
5
Dylan
I scaled the back gate to Hailey’s party, jumped, and landed softly on the grass next to a discarded red solo cup. I almost didn’t have the energy to get back to my feet. The Beachbreak rush didn’t slow until 10pm, so I stayed and helped out for hours after my shift was supposed to end. Even then, Luis practically had to force me out the door.
I had five texts from Lauren I hadn’t replied to.
Music blared, the bass vibrating in rhythm with my headache. I wanted to go home, crawl under a heavy blanket, and pass out. But I promised Chase and Jordyn I would make an appearance. Even if it was brief.
Taking a deep breath, I officially entered the party.
Chase and Abby were on the dance floor next to Trey and Hailey. I skimmed the crowd for Lauren, but there was no sign of her. Probably for the best. Conversations with her usually left me feeling like I’d just sat through the inanest reality TV show in existence.
“Mine!” The shout came from the pool area.
Jordyn.
She dove and bumped the ball in the air. A guy I didn’t recognize got underneath and set the ball up in the air. Jordyn, already recovered from her dive, took flight. Water cascaded from her body as she launched, scowling, and spiked the ball so hard that she left a handprint in the material. The volleyball slammed down with the ferocity of a comet, and Jordyn pumped her fist in the air.
I approached the pool and casually applau
ded. “Not bad for someone who hates team sports.”
Jordyn pulled her long blonde hair to the side and wrung it out. “Fashionably late, burger boy?”
“I’m a fashion icon.”
“Screw your fashion and get in the pool,” Jordyn said.
“Why? Need some help?”
Jordyn laughed derisively, her navy eyes flashing. “No, but they do.”
“Teams look even to me.”
“Not in skill level.”
You would think that in a set of twins, the ultra-talented quarterback would be the more competitive of the two. You’d be wrong. Despite despising team sports, Jordyn was the most competitive person I’d ever met.
I wanted to play.
But I was supposed to be looking for Lauren. I turned away from the volleyball game and eventually spotted her among a cluster of overdressed cheerleaders. They were examining Madison’s hair for some bizarre reason, preening through it like monkeys looking for fleas.
BOINK.
A volleyball bounced off the back of my head.
I spun.
The volleyball landed in the pool next to Jordyn. She casually tossed it in the air and hammered it again.
Right at my face.
I ducked, deflecting it with my forehead.
“You should try catching the ball, aren’t you meant to be good at that?” Jordyn said. Her eyes were wide and innocent, her hands on her hips.
“So that’s how it is?”
“That’s how it is.”
I kicked off my shoes and tossed my phone onto a lawn chair. Then, without warning, I cannonballed into the pool.
Jordyn dove out of the way.
I landed beside her, grabbed her in a headlock, and dunked her as she squealed for mercy.
She surfaced, sputtering and glaring. Before she could grab the volleyball, I tipped it out of reach and drifted lazily underneath the net to join the other team, high fiving my new teammates along the way.
“New rules,” I said. “We’re playing until Jordyn cries.”
Jordyn’s laugh carried across the party. “Just out of curiosity, will that burger joint pay for your nose job after I spike the ball in your face?”