I grimaced and grabbed another handful of chips. It was going to be a long night.
If I was a good and loyal sister, I wouldn’t have felt elated when I saw Abbie stalking toward me a few minutes later. She was so angry, you could practically see a cartoon scribble of smoke over her head.
Apparently Jason had turned out to be as jerky as he looked.
And I felt bad about that. I really did. But not as bad as I’d been feeling a moment earlier, when I’d been alone on the party’s sidelines, glaring at all the local kids with their ridiculously clever lanterns and annoying lifelong friendships.
It was also maddening watching Hannah and Liam as they visibly swooned over each other. Hannah was doing everything right—chatting easily, laughing adorably, blushing at all the right moments. And she was clearly melting every time Liam touched her arm. Or her waist. Or her hand. (Come to think of it, Liam was a pretty handsy guy.)
It had all been very, very depressing.
So when Abbie flopped into a folding chair next to the one that I had miserably occupied for the past fifteen lonely minutes, I admit that I responded a little inappropriately.
“What happened?” I asked eagerly. “Was it really bad?”
Abbie glared at me.
“Of course it was bad!” she said. “Do I look like it was good? And why are you so happy?”
“I’m not,” I protested. I tried—hard—to wipe the relieved grin off my face. “So what happened?”
“I don’t know!” Abbie said through gritted teeth. “He seemed so interested at that bookstore. But just now he acted like he didn’t even know me. It was humiliating.”
It was better than I’d thought! Not only was she not going to ditch me again; she was probably going to insist that we leave the party.
“Ouch,” I said. “Tell me everything.”
“Wait,” Abbie said. “Are there any chips left?”
She got up and stomped over to the refreshment table. But before she could load up on junk food and return to me, one of the local girls dragged a folding chair to the center of the dock. She stood on it and waved her lantern—a Chinese-style globe decorated with tissue paper dragonflies.
“Everybody,” she screeched. “It’s time to light ’em up!”
Whoops and hollers rose up from every corner of the dock. Giggling, everyone scrambled for matchbooks and lighters. I perked up too. With all my sisters’ drama, I’d almost forgotten about the lanterns. I’d also failed to notice that the sky had gone black and the streetlights hanging over the dock had come on.
“Alex?” the girl shouted with one hand cupped around her mouth.
All heads swiveled toward a tall boy with an impish grin. He was fiddling with what looked like a fuse box, which was mounted on a pole at the dock entrance.
A moment later the lights went out.
“Whooo!” everyone shouted, except, of course, for me and probably Abbie. She’d disappeared in the darkness. Suddenly blind, I felt a little dizzy and gripped the seat of my chair.
“One!” the girl shouted.
There was a collective clicking noise as lighters sprang to life all over the dock. People laughed and shouted some more, waving their flames over their heads like they were at a stadium concert.
“Two!” This time the whole group chanted the number along with the leader. I gripped my chair a little harder and grinned. It was so exciting, I couldn’t help but join in on the final chant, even though I had no lantern to light and nobody to enjoy this with. The other kids’ fun was infectious.
“THREE!” we all shouted.
Lantern after lantern came to life!
There was a collective, quiet intake of breath as we absorbed the beauty of the lights.
The leader’s buggy globe went bright orange, wobbling high above the crowd. Fred and Wilma seemed to dance with each other. The giant tree was dazzling, emanating light from every leaf. Even Jason’s stupid Darth Vader head looked amazing, with creepy yellow eyes glaring at the crowd.
At once everybody erupted into cheers.
“Whoo!” I joined in. I felt a little goofy and self-conscious jumping and clapping with everybody else, but then I brushed it off. Nobody here knew me. I was invisible to them. And for the moment, rather than being a bummer, that was a gift. I could geek out all I wanted to the perfect summery beauty of this moment without feeling embarrassed.
With my hands clasped I watched the lanterns float over my head. I gasped as I spotted the one shaped like an orange phoenix with wings outstretched, and smiled at the giant mason jar with little “fireflies” twinkling inside.
Somebody started the music back up. A ballad came on, sung by a woman with a sweet high voice, so breathy and wispy that you almost had to strain to hear her. A few couples started dancing, swaying lazily to the music. Everyone looked so pretty, almost ethereal, in the golden glow of the lanterns.
The moment was just . . . lovely. It made me swell up with happiness and feel a yearning pang all at once. It had been that way, ever since Granly had died. Every moment of joy had an ache around its edges. But when I looked at the dancing girls—this one gazing into her guy’s eyes, that one whispering into her partner’s ear, another laying her head on a boy’s shoulder—I realized that the ache might be for something different this time.
And then my gaze shifted to the dock entrance.
I don’t know what made me look, except that somehow I knew he was there.
Josh.
He was standing in the little gateway that led from the parking lot to the dock, holding on to the railing with one hand. He was wearing a short-sleeved button-down shirt in a retro checked print. His hair was glossy and neat, and his face had a recently scrubbed shine to it. In the glow of the lanterns, he looked . . . beautiful.
Or maybe he just looked that way because of the sweet, shy smile on his face. The one that seemed to be directed right at me.
I resisted the urge to turn around and make sure there wasn’t some other girl behind me, one with straighter hair and a fancy lantern.
I took a halting step forward.
So did Josh.
Several steps and what felt like way too many seconds later, we faced each other.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi,” I said. My voice sounded thin and fragile. I felt off balance, like the flickering of all those lantern candles was making my eyes go funny. I cleared my throat and gestured at his hands, which were empty.
“No lantern?” I asked.
“Um, no,” Josh said. “It was kind of a last-minute decision. To come here, I mean.”
“Oh,” I said. It seemed nosy to ask why, so I just said, “They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”
Josh’s eyes widened and he looked confused.
I gestured out to the party.
“The lanterns?” I asked. “Aren’t they amazing?”
“Oh, the lanterns,” Josh said. “Oh, yeah.”
He gazed out into the party as if he were noticing the spectacle for the first time. Which was weird. They were kind of hard to miss!
He returned his gaze to me.
“Yeah,” he agreed finally. “They’re pretty amazing.”
I smiled.
And he smiled.
And I started to wonder, even though it seemed crazy, if he had come here . . . just to see me.
A little voice in my head scoffed: That’s impossible. He couldn’t have heard Abbie talking about it at Dog Ear, so he didn’t know you’d be here. In fact he was probably sure you wouldn’t be here, since this is just a local party.
And yet I had this feeling that if I gave Josh a lantern pop quiz—Are there any Star Wars characters in the crowd? There’s one very tall lantern here. Is it a tree or a skyscraper?—that he would fail miserably.
That’s when my smile grew bigger. And, yes, more confident.
I decided I should just come out and ask him. Enough with all the mystery. I would channel Abbie and just put it out there: You like me,
don’t you? And you don’t know how to say it any more than I do.
I opened my mouth.
“Josh?”
A petite, sporty-looking girl pressed out of the throng of partiers. She had chic, close-cropped hair and white short-shorts that made her muscular, dark-skinned legs look amazing. A lantern that looked like a big, pink purse dangled from her bent arm.
“Ohmigod, the workaholic has come out of his cave,” the girl squealed.
She placed the hand that wasn’t holding a live flame on Josh’s arm and squeezed.
“Hi, Tori,” Josh said. Now he was back to looking sheepish, and I thought I saw a flush of color creep up his neck.
Wait, he’s blushing? What does that mean?
Tori turned to me and lowered her voice, like we were besties sharing a secret.
“He’s always like”—she dropped her voice an octave to imitate Josh—“ ‘Can’t make it. I have to work. Again!’ Oh, it’s so boring!”
“Yeah, well.” Josh shrugged lamely.
Tori shot me a sidelong look and let out another one of those conspiratorial laughs. The only thing was, I didn’t know what we were conspiring about.
“So, how do you know Josh?” Tori asked bluntly.
“Dog Ear,” Josh and I said at the same time, which made for more blushing.
“Oh, of course,” Tori said. “Well, I’m the coxswain on his team.”
“Coxswain?” I said. I was completely baffled.
“You know, his crew team?” Tori raised her eyebrows.
I nodded slowly. “Oh, right . . . crew.”
“Crew is rowing,” Josh explained.
“Oh!” I said with a nervous laugh. “Yeah, of course. When in lake country, right?”
Oh my God, could I be more of a dork?
“We row on the river, actually,” Josh said. “The coxswain is the person who sits in the front and calls the rhythm.”
“Don’t forget, I steer, too!” Tori noted proudly. Then she turned to me. “I admit it. I like being able to shout orders at eight guys. They have no choice but to do my bidding.”
She cackled, before adding, “The coxswain is usually a girl, because you’re not supposed to weigh too much.”
Then I swore she gave me one of those body-scanning looks, her eyes traveling from my neck to my ankles and back again. My curvy five feet six inches were radically different from her tiny, muscular bod. Involuntarily I crossed my arms over my chest.
The awkward silence that ensued seemed to be all Tori needed to assure herself that I was no threat to her. I could almost see the to-do list forming in her head.
1. Wait until Josh ditches the dishrag who doesn’t even know rudimentary terms like “coxswain” and “crew.”
2. Bring Josh his favorite drink (that I just happen to know, being his coxswain and all).
3. Pretend to trip so he can help me to my feet and take note that I’m as light as a feather and I smell like watermelon body wash.
4. Let the spit-swapping ensue!
Clearly she was confident enough about my drippiness to leave me alone with her crush.
“Ooh, I see Hazel and Callan,” she said, waving wildly at two girls. When they saw Tori with Josh (and apparently overlooked me entirely), they giggled and flashed her a thumbs-up. Subtle!
“See you later, Joshie,” Tori said before turning to me. “And nice to meet you . . .”
She looked at me, then back at Josh, waiting for an introduction.
Josh turned even redder. Only then did I realize he’d never asked me my name! And I’d never volunteered it.
“Chelsea,” I said, unable to meet Josh’s eyes. “Chelsea Silver. I’m here for the summer from LA.”
“Awesome! I love LA,” Tori said brightly. “See you around, Chelsea.”
She practically skipped off to her friends, and when she reached them, they collapsed into a fit of giggles.
She couldn’t have been more obvious about her intentions for Josh if she’d licked his face.
I snuck a sulky glance at him. I expected him to be gazing after Tori. How could he not? She was one of those bright-eyed, bubbly, anybody’s-version-of-pretty types who commanded attention.
But instead Josh was looking straight at me. And there seemed to be a new light in his eyes.
“So . . . Chelsea Silver,” he said.
“So . . . Joshie,” I said. “Is that what your friends call you?”
“No!” Josh said, rolling his eyes. “And neither does Tori. I don’t know where that came from.”
Hello? I thought. From her completely obvious crush on you.
I wondered if mine was just as obvious.
“Oh, hey!” Josh said as if he were just remembering something. “Can you hold on a minute?”
“Uh—”
I didn’t have time to respond before he darted toward the refreshments table.
Okay, I thought, insecurity washing over me. I guess he’s just really hungry. Boys are like that, right?
That was the thing about living in a house full of women (and one not-exactly-macho accountant). Boys were a complete mystery to me. My main impression from my friends with brothers and/or boyfriends was that boys were always hungry. And in those rare, satiated moments when they weren’t dreaming about food, they were obsessed with sex.
Which was a step up from middle-school boys, I guess. They’d seemed to devote most of their energy to coming up with new fart or burp jokes.
So when Josh dashed, I didn’t know if “Hold on a minute” meant, “I’ll be right back” or “Nice talking to you. Off to mingle with other cute girls now. Don’t wait up!”
He was taking a long time at the refreshment table, which was pretty much a disaster by then. He poked around the wet napkins, crushed chips, half-empty soft drink bottles, and discarded paper plates.
I scanned the party for my sisters. It was hard to find anybody among the lanterns, but I finally spotted Hannah leaning back against the railing on the other side of the dock. Pressed up really close to her was Liam. He had one arm wrapped around her waist, and he seemed to be aiming his lips for her neck.
Hannah laughed and shoved him away—but not very far away. And she didn’t seem annoyed that this guy was trying to kiss her in front of fifty strangers.
I was, though. She’d just met the guy! Okay, re-met him, but still. Your first kiss with someone new should be at least a little private, right?
Abbie clearly agreed with me, because suddenly she appeared at Hannah’s side. She gave Liam a quick, insincere smile before she tugged Hannah away.
I watched them tuck their heads together for a quick conference. Surely Abbie wanted to leave.
But it looked like Hannah wanted to stay.
And me?
Well, that depended. I returned my gaze to the refreshment table and felt my heart sink.
Josh wasn’t there.
I searched the rest of the party, squinting to try to find him in the sea of lights. At that moment I couldn’t remember what he was wearing. All I could picture was his shy, sheepish smile.
Like he was sort of nervous/excited to see me.
Until, maybe, he realized that girls like Tori found him irresistible, and going on a “food run” had become incredibly important.
I ground my teeth in frustration and looked down at my feet. Even in the dim light I could still see my blue shoes and turquoise toenails. They were so bright, they practically glowed. And yet they’d been planted in one spot for most of the night, waiting. Waiting for my sisters, waiting for Josh.
Well, I wasn’t going to wait anymore. I started to head over to Abbie and Hannah. I was going to poke my head into their little conference and announce, “That’s it. We’re leaving!”
And really, really hope they listened to me.
But just as I started across the dock, I heard a voice.
“Chelsea!”
I whipped around to see Josh, standing right where he’d left me. He held two red plastic cups a
nd, in the crook of his arm, a bowl of pretzel rods.
He held one of the cups out.
“I got you something to drink,” he said formally.
I smiled tentatively and walked back to him. He’d braved the gross refreshments table to get me a drink. And snacks! Nobody had ever gotten me drinks and snacks at a party before, except maybe my dad. It seemed like such a grown-up thing to do!
“It’s Faygo Redpop,” Josh said as I took one of the cups. “That was the only one that still had any fizz left.”
Okay, sort of grown-up.
Josh thrust the bowl at me, and I took a pretzel rod. Not that I was even slightly interested in eating or drinking right then.
“So, I’m on page forty-two,” Josh blurted. “What about you?”
“Page . . . ?” I was completely confused.
“Coconut Dreams,” Josh said. “Or did you chuck it after the one-page description of Kai’s smoldering brown eyes?”
I laughed out loud.
“You’re not actually reading it,” I said. “Are you?”
“Enough to get to that tragic description of the suckling pig at the luau,” Josh said. “The writer laid it on a little thick, didn’t she?”
“Oh my God, yeah,” I said. “All that stuff about the singed eyelashes and little charred tail? I think she wanted us to think of the suckling pig as Wilbur and become vegan activists or something.”
“Lemme tell you,” Josh said, “Charlotte’s Web is kind of a thing at Dog Ear, and Veronica Gardner is no E. B. White.”
“But it’s like a car wreck now,” I said, and giggled. “I can’t look away. Plus, the library’s, like, never open, and I’ve read everything else in our cottage.”
“You should get that book I showed you,” Josh said. He chomped on a pretzel absently. “Beyond the Beneath.”
“I’m pretty broke,” I said. “I’m trying to save up for a new e-reader, but at this point I can barely buy myself a paperback. I guess I should look into getting some babysitting jobs, since we’re here for the rest of the summer. I’m waiting until I get desperate enough.”
“Oh, so you have no sympathy for suckling pigs and you hate children,” Josh said with teasing grin.
“I like kids,” I protested. “But there’s only so much Candy Land and PB&J a girl can take.”
Fifteenth Summer Page 8