by Cj Omololu
“Finally!” Ava says in frustration, opening the car door before she’s even set the parking brake. It’s taken us almost twenty minutes to find a spot remotely close to the beach, even though it’s two o’clock on a Tuesday, because almost everyone else is on spring break too. And we’re still a pretty long walk away. She squints in the direction of the water and looks with disgust at all the other cars parked along the road. “I swear they need to do something about all of these people. This part of town should be for locals only. I’m sick of having to walk miles to get to my own beach.”
“I didn’t realize this was your beach,” I say, sliding a glance at her from under my hat. After everything that happened last night I didn’t even want to come today, and Ava’s mood isn’t making this any easier.
“You know what I mean.” She sweeps her hand toward some of the cars. “All of these people probably live miles and miles from here, and they’re taking up valuable parking spaces and beach real estate. Dad didn’t spend a ton of cash to live here so that we’d have to walk to the beach.”
“Maybe next time we should get him to buy a house right on the water,” I say, grabbing my backpack.
“Whatever,” she says, but we both know that would never happen. Dad loves to stand on the balcony outside his room and take in the view of the ocean way down the hill. “Better to be up here and see the sparkling sea and white sand instead of the seagull shit and cigarette butts” is his motto. Ava squints up at the sun, strong for the first time all spring. “At least the weather’s decent. I’m going out with Dylan on Thursday, and I need to get a little color.”
Dylan? I can’t believe she’s still going to do it, even after all the trouble Alicia’s caused. “I thought we were done with Alicia.”
Ava shrugs. “Maybe you are. My Alicia is still going out with a hottie basketball player.”
Even the thought of dressing up and putting the diamond pendant around my neck gives me a stomachache. “Seriously. Alicia needs to disappear. Now. We’ve already been caught once. You want a repeat of last night?”
“Maybe I’ll quit once I cut Dylan loose,” she says, walking up ahead of me so it’s impossible to continue talking. “But until then, I’m going to have a little fun.”
The sand is crowded with colorful towels that people have abandoned in order to bob around in the cool Pacific. Ava shades her eyes and glances toward the place where we usually hang out, waving as she sees people we know. “At least nobody’s in our spot,” she says grumpily. Our feet kick up arcs of sand as we trudge toward the familiar patch of real estate nestled up against the dunes that separate the water from the multimillion-dollar houses lining the beach. “Looks like Zane out there,” she says, squinting at the water.
“So?”
“So. He kind of saved your ass last night.”
“It was your ass too,” I remind her.
“Agreed. Which is why you might want to be nice to him.”
“I said thank you.”
“Barely,” Ava says, in a tone that makes me feel instantly guilty. And defensive.
“He shouldn’t have even been there,” I say, even though I know that what happened between me and Eli wasn’t his fault. “And then he leaves with some trampy blonde? Anyway, you don’t even like him.”
“I don’t not like him,” Ava says. She looks from the water straight at me. “And since when do you care who he goes home with?”
“I don’t!” I insist. And I don’t. Really. Which is why it bothers me that I can’t get the image of the two of them out of my head. “He can sleep with whoever he wants. It’s none of my business.”
We shut up about it as we reach our friends.
“I know you have something to drink for me,” Ava says, flopping down next to Slater, putting her head on his shoulder, and fluttering her eyelashes at him. Even for Ava this is a little obvious. Apparently she’s using the second-grade method of attracting boys.
“Share my Coke?” he says, handing her a bottle.
“Thanks,” she says, taking a huge swig. “We’ve been walking for miles.”
“Not miles,” I say, dropping my backpack.
“You can put your stuff here if you want,” Slater says, pointing to an empty spot under his umbrella.
“Thanks,” I say, spreading my towel out on the sand. “I want to get some sun.”
Apparently annoyed that I’m the one getting a little bit of attention instead of her, Ava stands up to rid herself of her tiny skirt, knowing as well as I do that every eye is on her as she performs her seemingly innocent striptease.
“I’m roasting,” she says, adjusting the rear of her yellow bikini. “Anyone coming in with me?”
Slater and a couple of the other guys stand up and follow as Ava takes off toward the water. I hear her squealing in the shallows as the spray hits her ankles, and the guys start a water fight that looks like it should be the opening scene in Girls Gone Wild! Beach Edition.
I’m unpacking my backpack when I see Zane walking out of the surf with his board. He stops to laugh with someone in the shallow water, so I get up and brush the sand off my shorts. For once Ava’s right. And I hate it when she’s right.
The sand is hot between our spot and the water, so I walk as quickly as I can between the towels until I can cool my feet in the shallows. Zane’s talking to a dark-haired girl in a string bikini, so I stand a little away from them, kicking at the water and watching out of the corner of my eye. Zane’s back is broad and tan, with droplets of ocean still clinging to his skin, and I’m suddenly conscious of the way the girl moves toward him, one hand lingering on his arm. It looks like they’re going to walk up the beach together, when she suddenly throws her arms around him and pulls him into an excessively long hug before running into the surf.
Zane turns to walk toward our towels, and I’m not sure if he doesn’t see me or if he’s choosing to ignore me. “Hey!” I call over the sound of the water pounding on the sand.
Zane breaks into a smile and walks over to me. He never was one to hold a grudge. “Hey yourself, Lexi,” he says. He leans down toward me. “Or is it Alicia?”
I can feel my face get red, and I look away. “Stop.” Neither of us says anything for a few long moments, and the air seems heavy with everything we should be saying. Finally I break the silence. “I’m sorry.”
Zane kicks some sand at his feet. “I know.”
“It’s just that things have been kind of crazy lately, and it felt like you were checking up on me.”
He shrugs and stares off into the distance. “I would have been if I thought you needed it.”
I look up into his face. There’s a bruise just under his eye where the guy hit him last night. “Apparently I did need it.”
“Who was that guy?”
“I don’t know. He obviously knew Alicia, but I’ve never seen him before, and Ava is claiming sudden memory loss.”
There’s another high-pitched squeal, and we turn to watch Ava and the guys jump through the waves. Well, I’m watching the guys. I’m pretty sure Zane’s watching Ava. I punch him hard in the arm.
“What?” he asks, an innocent look on his face. He rubs his arm. “You’ve got bony knuckles—that hurt.”
“Stop staring.”
“I’m not staring. I’m thinking.”
“And I know what you were thinking about.”
“You don’t know a damn thing,” he says, giving me a crooked smile, which goes a long way toward making me forgive him. I glance up at his tall lankiness, at the way his hair is getting long at the back, although I’m not sure if he’s growing it out intentionally or just forgot to cut it for the last couple of months, because he tends to lose track of ordinary things.
“Fine,” I say, dropping it. I don’t blame him for watching my sister. Everything about her practically screams Look at me! every second of every day. Her entire life revolves around achieving maximum impact, and a day at the beach with people we’ve known since kindergarten is no e
xception.
“Lex, what are you doing?” Zane finally asks. “I told you Alicia is nothing but trouble.”
I don’t bother denying it. “It was sort of an accident. Eli thought I was Alicia at the café that day, so I only did it as a joke at first.” I dig a toe into the sand. “Doesn’t matter anyway. It’s over now. Eli found out about Alicia last night.”
“I heard.” Zane tilts his head. “He wasn’t exactly understanding?”
“Not exactly.” I wipe angrily at a tear that’s working its way down my cheek, not knowing if I miss Eli or if I’m just angry at myself.
“I’m sorry.” He looks concerned. “You really liked this guy?”
I can’t help smiling. “Yeah, I did. He was fun and different.” I think about WaterRidge and the food trucks. “I was different when I was with him.”
Zane plants his board in the sand and looks at me out of the corner of his eye. “Why do you need to be different? What’s wrong with Lexi?”
My eyes fill with tears. “Right now, everything. I didn’t get into Stanford; the cops want to talk to Alicia, and for obvious reasons they can’t; and I screwed up what might be my only chance at a relationship this year.”
“Whoa,” he says, his face full of concern. “Back up a little bit. What’s up with the cops?”
I hesitate, feeling the force of my emotions and the information I’ve kept bottled up inside. I watch Ava squeal and kick at the edge of the surf, and I envy the way all her troubles seem to roll off her.
“Sounds like you’re in a little over your head.” Zane flops down onto the sand and pats the space next to him. I sit down and lean against his shoulder, his skin warm from the sun, and his muscles solid against my side. “Tell me everything.”
So I do.
After a great beach day yesterday, today is foggy and miserable—perfect weather to help Cecilia.
“I think I got everything on the list,” I say as I walk into the kitchen and set the grocery bags on the island. Cecilia’s sitting at the table, staring into space, her face a mask of worry.
“What’s up?” I ask, digging into one of the bags.
“Nothing,” she says, glancing away from me.
“It’s not nothing,” I insist, a tiny ball of dread forming inside me. I put the bag down. “I can tell. What happened?”
She takes a deep breath, and her eyes flick up to mine for just a second before looking away again. “The police. They were here a little while ago. At the front door.”
I feel my heart surge. They must have figured out the fake ID. “Did you answer it?”
She looks at me like I’m stupid. “Of course I did. I have nothing to hide. They were looking for Alicia.”
Crap. “What did you say?”
“What do you think I said? That there’s no Alicia here.” My face must be giving something away. “Do you know anything about this?”
“Not really.” I sit down beside her, sorry that she got involved in this at all. “Sort of. It’s just a misunderstanding. A mistake. Did they leave a card?”
“Yes.” Cecilia reaches into the pocket of her apron and pulls out a card identical to the one I already have. “One of them gave me this.” She studies my face. “What have you two done? Is Ava in trouble? Is there something you need to be telling me? When your father isn’t here, you and your sister are my responsibility.”
“No,” I say as lightly as possible. “It’s really no big deal. Ava’s fine. I’ll take care of it.” I tuck the card into my pocket and give Cecilia a kiss on the cheek. I can see that she’s not totally satisfied. “Really, it’s okay. I’ll talk to Dad when he gets home.
“You promise?” She looks skeptical.
“Yes. I swear.” I jump up and start going through the bags again, even though my brain is focused on the cops. “The cilantro looked terrible at the store, so I went to the produce place by the freeway.”
Someone calls to her from the backyard, so she gives me one last, piercing glance and walks outside. I hear Cecilia’s raised voice and a male voice speaking Spanish. The gardener is standing outside with the leaf blower on his back, pointing to something on the side of the house. He looks agitated, but he’s speaking so fast, I can’t understand a word as they walk off toward the side of the house. My Spanish was so much better when I was a kid.
I’m putting the milk in the fridge when I hear a buzzing sound and see Cecilia’s phone jiggling across the counter. “Cecilia!” I shout, but she must be too far in the back to hear me. The buzzing stops, but then starts up again a few seconds later. I pick it up to put it in a safer spot, and see that she’s gotten a text. Cecilia never gets texts. She hates the phone and has it only because Dad passed it down to her years ago when he finally got a new one. I glance at the patio door, even as I can’t believe I’m thinking about it. Something’s going on with Cecilia, and she’s not going to tell me what it is. Looking back again, I slide the ancient phone open to unlock it and click on the message. It’s Rubi. She’s gone again. I’ve never heard her mention anyone named Rubi before. I hear Cecilia’s voice outside, so I mark the text as unread and close it before putting the phone right back where it was.
“Everything okay?” I ask as she comes back into the kitchen.
“Fine,” she says, but she seems distracted.
Her phone buzzes again, and she glances at me before picking it up. After reading the text, she puts the phone into her pocket, muttering something to herself.
“Anything wrong?”
She looks at me like she’s forgotten I’m here, and her cheeks instantly go red. “No.” She gives me an insincere smile. “My sister’s having some trouble with her husband, is all.”
I’ve known Cecilia my whole life, and for the first time, it feels like she’s hiding something from me. I want to ask her who Rubi is, but I can’t think of any way to bring it up without telling her that I read the text.
The gardener appears again in the doorway and says something to her that I can’t catch.
“What’s going on?” I walk over to him.
“It’s nothing,” Cecilia says, turning away from Julio. “Don’t worry about it.”
Julio looks worriedly at me. It’s definitely something. “What’s going on?” I repeat.
“Someone … looks … outside of la casa,” he says in halting English.
I feel a shiver run down my spine. Something about the tone of his voice makes me nervous. “ ‘Looks’? Adonde?”
Julio points to the side of the house near the fence.
“I’m sure he’s overreacting,” Cecilia says, but I’m already heading across the deck. She follows me as Julio leads us around the back of the house.
“Aquí,” he says, stopping outside Ava’s bedroom window. He points to a pile of sunflower seed shells on the ground about three feet away from the window. At first I don’t think much about it, but then I look at them more closely. These aren’t random seeds that have been eaten by someone and tossed away. This is a pile of opened seeds that have been chewed and discarded in a single pile over a longer period of time. I look through the window and see Ava’s entire room through the parted curtains. At night, when the lights are on and Ava’s using the window as a mirror from the inside, you wouldn’t be able to see anything out here. Or anyone.
I put on a fake smile and bend down to pick up a handful of the seeds. All three of us are standing near the pile, and our shoes have messed up whatever footprints might have been made in the soft dirt. “I’m sure Cecilia’s right and it’s no big deal. Someone just left these here.”
Julio looks worried. “Pero debemos decirle a su padre.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll tell my dad,” I say. I look more closely at the window but don’t see any handprints on the glass. The seeds rattle in my pocket, and I glance over my shoulder as we walk back toward the patio, half expecting someone to be watching us.
Ava comes into my bathroom as I lean so close to the mirror, it feels like I’m about to poke my
eye out with the pencil.
“What are you doing?” She flicks the pendant that’s already around my neck. “I thought Alicia was dead.”
“Hey!” I yell as she jiggles my arm and totally blows the line I was working on. She leans over and hands me a wad of toilet paper to rub it off and start again. “She is. But I have to do it one more time. I don’t have any choice.”
“Sounds serious.” She grabs the pencil out of my hand. “You’re useless at this. Let me do it.”
I kick the door shut behind her, in case Cecilia is lurking anywhere nearby. “I’m going down to the police station.”
She pulls back so she can see my face. “What? Why? I thought we agreed to let it go.” I can see anger flashing in her eyes.
“I’d love to, but the cops aren’t. They came back again,” I say, annoyed that once again I have to clean up another one of Ava’s messes. “Scared Cecilia half to death. I need to find out what’s going on, because your whole blow-over theory is obviously flawed.”
“Shit. Really? What did she tell them?”
“She told them that there wasn’t an Alicia here. But they already know better, thanks to you.” I grab some dark gray eye shadow from the drawer. “If you hadn’t pulled the Alicia crap on the cops, this would all be over by now.”
Ava slams the eyeliner pencil down onto the counter. “Well, I’m not going to help you do something so completely stupid.”
“Whatever,” I say. My hand is shaking as I wipe the shadow across my lid, and I put both hands down on the counter to steady them. I can’t let Ava see how nervous I am. “But you better plan what you’re going to say when they knock on the door the next time. And I guarantee that there will be a next time. Dad’s going to be home in five hours, and I need to have this behind us by then.” I can’t let Dad know about Alicia—not on top of the whole Stanford mess. I can almost see the look in his eyes if he opens the door and sees the cops standing there. If he discovers that I’m not the person he thought I was.
“You don’t think … you don’t think the cops suspect Alicia?” Ava asks.