Cruel Summer

by Lisa Cardwell

  I put the boxes with our new clothes in the back of my car and slammed the trunk down, unable to stop myself from taking a quick glance around for a JT sighting as I headed to the driver’s side. Sorche opened the passenger door as I slid inside the car.

  “You have time for one more stop?” she asked.

  I glanced at the clock on the dashboard. “More than enough.”

  I doubted Dad and Trish had even sat down for lunch yet. And I’d texted Dad when I’d parked the car before going to see Rico to check for the time. Apparently, we weren’t even going to leave ’til after three, so I definitely had a couple hours to kill.

  ***

  We’d barely walked in the doors of Sorche’s favorite smoothie place when she grabbed my arm and pulled me back behind an arrangement of plastic plants. “Stay here.”

  I looked at her like she was crazy and watched her peek around the leaves. It was like something out of a bad movie, except I had a feeling the wrong thing to do would be to laugh.

  “What are we doing?” I followed her gaze and saw a tall, statuesque platinum blonde near the counter, checking her iPhone.

  “Who is she?” I tried to remember her from the quick rundown Sorche had given me the night we met, but the more I looked at her, the more I was sure we hadn’t met.

  “Trouble,” Sor replied in a low voice.

  From the way she gripped my arm, I figured she wasn’t kidding. I peeked through the foliage again. She did look sort of familiar.

  “Sor?” I tried again, prying her fingers off my arm. Ouch, she had sharp nails. And even worse, they left a noticeable mark. I rubbed my arm, hoping to draw back the circulation and get the indents to fade. “Who is she?”

  “One of JT’s many admirers and once considered the top choice to be the ‘Face of…’”

  Uh oh.

  I didn’t even need to hear the rest of the sentence to know I had two major strikes against me. “So I doubt she’s going to be a member of my fan club?”

  “Wouldn’t count on it. Best thing to do is ignore her. All she wants is attention, and JT won’t give her any. You won’t give her any, and I’ll try not to leak any nasty rumors about her,” Sor said with an evil grin. “Of course, if TMZ should happen to showcase one or two bright and early tomorrow, I swear I won’t have any clue where they got them.”

  I could almost picture the halo glistening brightly over Sorche’s head, propped up on one side by a sparkly little red horn. I laughed, though I kinda worried just how joking Sor was. I didn’t usually have to worry about my new best friend, but at this moment? Color me concerned.

  “All will be fine. Come on…” I hooked my arm through hers and marched to the empty counter.

  I could feel the girl shooting daggers at my back as we ordered our extra thick smoothies. I did my best to ignore her while I pulled a twenty out of my wallet and handed it over to the girl behind the counter, feeling Sorche just waiting to pounce. I hoped figuratively and not literally.

  “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the new ‘Face of Vanetti’,” the girl said as we walked to the other end of the counter to wait for our drinks.

  “News travels fast around here,” I said to Sorche as I took my change.

  The blonde huffed, and I realized she was practically beside me as the air shifted. “Rico’s obviously lowered his standards.”

  I tried not to let her comment faze me. I gave a one-shouldered shrug, reaching for my drink on the counter. “He didn’t seem to think so…”

  Sorche nodded her agreement as she grabbed a couple paper-wrapped straws from the dispenser. “I think he used the terms ‘fresh’ and ‘vibrant’ to describe Chey. Not ‘stale’, ‘overexposed’, and ‘over-bleached’, Adriana.”

  I bit down on my lip so hard to keep myself from laughing out loud that I could taste the slight metallic tinge of blood.

  Adriana’s blue eyes turned to ice.

  “He’s a flash in the pan, anyway…” She looked straight at me. “Enjoy your fifteen minutes, Wyoming.”

  “Ouch.” I turned back to Sorche who rolled her eyes at the snarky comment. “Was that supposed to be painful?”

  “First encounters with her usually are.” She leaned past me. “Looks like Fiona’s taking her out of here.”

  I looked behind us to see a brunette with her heading towards the doors, dropping their smoothies in the trash on the way out. “Glad to see she travels nowhere without an entourage.”

  “You’d have to with an ego that big. It’d be hard to walk upright, otherwise.” Sor smiled. “You handled her well,” she said as we took our drinks to a nearby empty table and sat down.

  “Let’s just say I’m no stranger to dealing with jerks.”

  I knew all about them, unfortunately. I’d gone to school with several from fifth grade ’til now, and they hadn’t changed. Or if they did, they only got worse over time.

  “I’m impressed.” She smiled.

  I shifted in my chair a little, looking at the door then back at Sorche. “So you and Adriana…”

  “I was friends with Adriana for a long time,” Sorche confided over her smoothie. “Then I got tired of her games and her personality and her entourage.”

  I nodded. “I’m not too fond of them, either.”

  “They’re her little ‘yes’ girls. I swear one of them only breathes if she thinks it’s okay with Adriana.” Sor laughed a little. “I’m so glad you’re more real than she is, and I’m sorry if I somehow put you in her crosshairs.”

  “I don’t think you did. I somehow managed that all on my own.”

  “I don’t think JT’s attention helped with that. They were a ‘thing’ for a while there about a year ago, and I don’t think she handled being dumped well.”

  “Control issues?”

  “Clearly.”

  Sorche picked up her cell phone and scanned her texts. I set my phone down and glanced around the small shop. Only a couple people sat at tables, mostly twenty-somethings, the occasional mom with a baby stroller in the corner. But other than that, the place was pretty empty.

  She texted something to someone then picked her smoothie back up. “Drink up! We are celebrating, after all.”

  “That, we are.”

  She lifted her frothy strawberry drink. “To this being Chey’s most memorable summer yet.”

  “Hear, hear.” We clinked plastic cups.

  And to that being my only encounter with the wicked witch that was Adriana, I added silently.

  If only my luck would have held out.

  12

  Dad’s car was already back in the driveway when I got home. Sorche took off in her SUV with a wave, and I hurried inside, trying to get upstairs without bashing my boxes into the walls. I had the uneasy feeling I’d find more than the skirt and shirt inside with the way Sorche and Rico had been whispering. Making it into my room, I slid the boxes onto an empty shelf in my closet and shut the door behind me.

  “You home?” Dad’s voice traveled down the hallway a second later.

  I peeked out the doorway. “Hey, just got here a second ago. Sor wanted to grab a drink on the way back so we stopped for smoothies.”

  “That’s okay. Can you be ready in half an hour? That way, we can leave earlier and avoid some of the heavy traffic. Just heard there’s a couple traffic delays on our route.”

  I looked at his scruffy sneakers; obviously, he wasn’t dressing up for this, so I didn’t really need to, either. “I can be ready in fifteen.”

  “Meet you at the car. I have to see what all Milo brought over.”

  “Okay.”

  I ducked back into my room and peeled my shirt off, grabbing a fresh pair of jeans from where I’d left my clean laundry piled on my armchair last night. I grabbed one of the first T-shirts Rico had given me from the closet and quickly changed before I touched up my make-up in my new mirror and added a baseball cap—we were going to a baseball game, after all—and headed downstairs, sandals in hand.

  The house a
ppeared empty when I got to the landing, so I grabbed my cell phone from the hall table and locked up before I hurried to the garage.

  “Are we ready?” I glanced in the backseat, half-expecting Milo to be sitting there; he was around often enough lately, I’m sure Dad would think nothing of inviting him along.

  And I hadn’t thought enough to check how many tickets Dad had bought.

  Dad held out an envelope. “The tickets are inside. Let’s go.”

  We left early enough that we got to the stadium with more than enough time before the game started. Like a lot of places in Los Angeles, I hadn’t been there before. And I really wasn’t that big of a baseball fan, but Dad didn’t know that. Actually, the more I thought about it, the more I realized he didn’t seem to know a lot about me. Trish probably knew me better than he did in some ways. I ignored the small stab in my chest at the realization.

  My feet were killing me by the time we found our seats near the dugout.

  “We having fun, yet?” Dad asked, adjusting his new baseball cap he’d bought on our way in.

  Must be his lame attempt at hiding himself. But hey, who was I to judge? I had the same cap on my head, the old one I’d worn there fastened to one of the belt loops on my jeans.

  “Will be if you buy me a drink,” I suggested as the drink vendor went past us. Nothing like spending the afternoon with Dad and a couple thousand other people. Father-daughter bonding at its finest. But at least, he was trying; I had to give him props for that.

  “No problem.”

  Within moments, he had my drink in hand.

  “I thought you’d enjoy this,” he said, handing the icy plastic bottle my way as he watched the players stretching on the field.

  “I am.”

  Well, I’d try. I took a small sip of the cold liquid to relieve my dry mouth from the hike we’d taken to even get there, then set my drink down by my feet and tried to get comfortable. Soon, he started talking about the various players, and I tried to follow along as best I could as he pointed them out on the field.

  By the time the game was underway, I’d already noticed a few curious stares directed at us. It didn’t help that much when I caught a brief glimpse of a cell phone aimed our way. I slid down deeper in my seat, adjusting my hat and wishing Dad would do the same, and tried to lose myself in the game being played in front of us.

  We’d been sharing a box of popcorn when the first person approached us. As he crouched down beside Dad, I thought at first Dad was buying us a couple more drinks or maybe even a hot dog. But when I looked over, I saw him scribbling something on the guy’s program.

  Dad caught my eye and winked.

  “Sorry kiddo,” he said as the guy walked away. “I was hoping that wouldn’t happen much today.”

  “It’s okay,” I lied.

  Sitting there beside him, I watched as he signed autographs and posed for pictures with all the adoring fans during lulls in the game. I plastered a smile on my face that became faker and more plastic as the afternoon wore on.

  I had to wonder if this wasn’t part of what drove my parents apart. Mom got tired of sharing him. I could kind of see where she came from—there really was no time for just the two of us to hang out.

  I munched on a handful of popcorn, watching some guy from the home team hit a homerun. At least, I think it was a homerun. People around us were standing up and cheering and hi-fiving one another. So I joined in, acting as excited as anyone else, though I seriously had no clue what we were all so excited about.

  Dad shot me an apologetic smile as he signed one more autograph and handed the paper back to the woman who was still staring at him as she walked back to her seat a few rows behind us. I was almost worried she was going to take a tumble since she was watching him more than the stairs.

  I had the feeling she was a tourist. She had that same awe about her that I did the first few days in town. The same awe that was slowly fading away, being replaced by something I didn’t yet understand.

  ***

  “You didn’t have a good time, did you?” Dad asked a few hours later as we walked out of the stadium amongst a swarm of happy people.

  I didn’t want to lie, but I didn’t exactly feel like telling the truth, either. “I guess I’m not really a baseball fan. Sorry, Dad.”

  I tried to stick as close as possible to him, knowing if I lost him in this crowd, I probably wouldn’t be able to find him again. There were way too many guys in baseball hats and sunglasses to ever be able to spot him without having to yell for him. And imagine how many people would stop and turn at that. At least, I had some idea where he’d parked, and I had my cell phone. I could always text him an ‘I’m lost’ and wait for him to find me.

  He handed me the car keys as we made our way across the parking lot. “How about I make it up to you?”

  “No outdoor sporting events involved?” I asked as I hit the button on the remote as we neared the Escalade, unlocking the doors.

  “None.” He looked at me suddenly. “You’re having a good time, right?”

  Why did I have a feeling he didn’t quite mean just the baseball game? “Now that we’re no longer watching baseball, absolutely.”

  You couldn’t fake the wattage of my smile.

  Dad laughed. “Okay, so you’re not the sports enthusiast I am. I know that now.”

  “Just baseball. It’s so…” I shrugged, trying not to tell him it was one of the most boring things I’d ever watched in person; it was just so drawn out. Why did they need nine innings? “Not my thing.”

  “That’s okay. We’ve got time to find something we can do together.” He opened my door for me. “Besides, I think what I have in mind for tonight is definitely more your style.”

  I watched him walk around the vehicle, trying to figure out what that cryptic comment meant. I took off my new baseball cap he’d bought me and tossed it into the backseat before running my fingers through my hair. It felt nice to be out of the heat and not surrounded by people.

  Dad slid in the driver’s side and slammed the door behind him. “You up to going out tonight?”

  “Yeah, of course.” I aimed the blast of icy air conditioning at my face as he started the engine.

  “Good. We should have just enough time to get home and clean up before we need to be there.”

  “Be where?” I tried to get some piece of information out of him.

  “You’ll see.” He just smiled at me as he pulled out of the parking lot, and I can safely say I was very glad to leave the stadium behind us.

  ***

  I didn’t have that long to change, because Dad had given me a strict hour time limit to get into something ‘nice’ and be back in the vehicle. I’d hopped in the shower, washed the sunscreen and popcorn smell off, gave my hair a quick wash, and slipped into my favorite fluffy robe to dig through my closet. But the second I stepped out of the bathroom, I heard the familiar ping from the computer.

  I slunk onto the desk chair, my heart thudding as I saw the invite to web-cam with Mom. I couldn’t very well say ‘no.’ Her ‘Mom radar’ would have gone off the charts, so I hit ‘yes’ and waited.

  Suddenly, Mom’s face stared back at me, our familiar pale yellow kitchen wall behind her. Deep breaths, I told myself. Remembered that yoga breathing Sorche had taught me, which totally came in handy at a moment like this. I had the biggest fear she’d take one good look at me and know everything wasn’t as it seemed and that she’d have me on the next flight home.

  “Hi, Mom.” I tried to sound as cheerful as ever.

  She smiled at me for a moment.

  “Something’s off,” she declared.

  I hated how well my mother knew me.

  “No, it’s not. Everything’s fine.”

  Lie. Total, complete lie. If I was like Pinocchio, my nose would be straight across my room, past my balcony, heading for the pool and the hills beyond the fence.

  Silence.

  She totally knew I was lying.

  The s
ilence was her trick to guilt the truth out of me. A trick that had worked surprisingly too well in the past. I tried my best to stare innocently at the camera.

  “Dad took me to a baseball game, and we’re about to go head out for a late dinner somewhere. I guess I left the laptop signed in while we were out…” I said truthfully.

  “All right…”

  Long, lengthy pause, of which Mom was probably waiting for me to crack. Well, not this time. I was seventeen and wise to her tricks.