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Copyright ©1996 by Linda Cargill
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First E-Reads Edition 2004
To Leo, who invited me to my first pool party, and to my parents, Alice and Larry Bognar, who built me a backyard pool.
Chapter 1
TO THE BEST OF THE BEST!
“What does that mean?” Angel De Fazio tore open her invitation with the fancy gilt lettering and let the gold foil-lined envelope fall to the floor. She thrust it in Sharon’s face Monday morning.
Sharon stopped in the hallway outside homeroom and read it:
TO THE BEST OF THE BEST:
Angel De Fazio is invited to a pool party at Ocean House on Friday evening after school.
R.S.V.P.
Sharon didn’t get it. Who was inviting people to her house?
It was weird, especially since Sharon had been planning on having her own pool party on Friday night. Her boyfriend, Phil, had put her up to it. He’d said that it was a good way to get reacquainted with the kids in the senior class now that she’d moved back from Atlanta. She’d been out of the social scene for one whole year while her father had worked for an international import-export firm and her mother had sued her father for divorce. The party was supposed to make her popular again.
Who else had gotten invitations? Angel De Fazio was somebody she’d never dream of inviting. Angel was boy crazy. She was always hanging around with the quarterback. She’d always snubbed plain-looking girls like Sharon who didn’t have her gorgeous figure and Cinderella-like golden blond hair.
“Hey, Sharon!” Sue Riley shouted in a gruff, masculine-sounding voice. She clutched another one of those gilt-edged invitations as she hurried down the hallway. “Is this a joke?”
Sue was another girl she’d never had anything to do with. Sue was the class cynic. She was always making fun of everyone with her caustic wit. No one escaped her tongue.
Sharon met the girls’ curious gazes. If she told them she had had nothing to do with the invitations, they were going to think she was nuts. They’d spread the word. Then no one would come to her parties again.
“It’s no joke,” Sharon said nervously, curling a lock of her brown hair around her finger. “I’m having a pool party on Friday night after school.”
Sue tapped her foot. “You never so much as said hello to me in your life. Now we’re buddy buddies?”
“We’re seniors. If we don’t get to know each other pretty soon, we never will.” Sharon tried to act casual.
Sharon kept hoping that Phil would arrive and rescue her from this awkward situation. He’d said he’d be dropping by the school today. He would know what to do. He always did.
Phil had graduated from some high school on the other side of the country last year. Now he worked full-time for Fun & Sun Resort Services. He taught swimming and scuba diving and ran children’s programs for all the resorts on Amelia Island. Sharon had met him late in the summer after she’d broken up with her old boyfriend, Dan.
But instead of Phil she saw only Vicki Munslinger. “Sharon, this is so gorgeous!” Vicki showed off another gilt-edged invitation. “You must have spent a fortune. Can I run a story on your party for the school paper? It sounds like a beaut.”
Vicki Munslinger was definitely way out of her social circle. She was editor-in-chief of the school newspaper, The Crimson. That and her grades were all she ever thought about.
Sue and Angel gave Vicki the once-over, too. They didn’t like her any better than Sharon did.
What was somebody trying to do, invite everybody who hated each other to a party as a practical joke? Sharon guessed she was about to find out.
“Yeah, I’m sure my mom would like you to do a story on the party and Ocean House,” Sharon said.
Her mother had bought franchise rights to Ocean House from the owner of Cragmoor Resorts. Mother had refurbished the palatial Victorian estate, the lavish grounds, and the knockout pool by taking out a business loan. She’d thought running an inn would be a nice way to earn a living.
“Ah, I get it!” quipped Sue. “This is a publicity stunt. Some guy will pop out and say, ‘Smile! You’re on Candid Camera!’”
“What’s Candid Camera?” Angel asked, her eyes wide with puzzlement.
“Don’t bother your pretty head about it!” Sue dismissed the matter with a wave of her hand. “Some old show that used to be on TV.”
Sharon was relieved when the bell rang. She slipped into homeroom. The wise guy had to be somebody from Ocean High who knew everybody. He—or she—was inviting kids from different cliques to her party, knowing she couldn’t do anything about it without making a fool of herself.
All morning Sharon kept looking about in all her classes, waiting for the next person to rush up with an invitation. She ran into several girls she had been friendly with sophomore year. But they gave her hurt looks. Apparently they’d heard about the fancy invitations and were offended that they hadn’t received any.
There was nothing Sharon could do except bite her lip.
At lunch she was too tense to eat. Where was Phil? He was supposed to meet her in the cafeteria at twelve sharp.
She gasped. Dan sat down across from her. Her old boyfriend slipped one of those invitations out of his jeans pocket. It was all crumpled up as if he’d tried to throw it away and thought better of it.
“I thought everything between us was over. Right? … or wrong?!”
Dan’s piercing dark gaze met hers. He brushed his curly black hair out of his eyes and fidgeted with his wire-rimmed glasses. He hadn’t touched his food either.
Frankly, she was surprised. They’d dated earlier that summer, when she’d first gotten back from Atlanta, but he’d always taken her for granted. He’d paid too much attention to his rock and mineral collections and not enough to her. His idea of a good time had been to take her hiking!
Instead of inviting her out to dinner for her birthday, Dan had taken her on a canoe tour of the Okefenokee Swamp. He didn’t talk about anything except alligators and black bears. As soon as he got her back on dry land she’d ordered him to take her home.
Dan’s eyes were following everything she did. She squirmed and bit her tongue. She was going to have to tell Dan the truth. He’d know if she was lying. He’d known her since they were both pint-sized. Besides, he was the class valedictorian, which meant he wasn’t exactly stupid.
“Did you just send me the invitation so you could tell me I wasn’t invited after all and it was a big mistake?”
“Look, Dan,” she whispered, “some jerk sent out these invitations. You know I’d never spend that much money to have them printed.”
Dan wrinkled his forehead. “I don’t get it.”
“I don’t either!” She reached across the table to put her hand on his arm. “It’s making me real nervous. This geek’s invited everybody I’d never be caught dead with—like Sue, Angel, and Vicki.”
“Do you want me to come?”
A flush spread up Sharon’s neck and covered her face, making her cheeks burn. She looked down at her hands, tightly clasped on her lap.
“I see!” Dan got up to leave.
“No, wait a minute!” She reached for him. “Maybe you’d better come. I need to have somebody there who knows what’s really going on.”
“You mean you’re not gonna tell lover-bo
y Phil?”
Sharon couldn’t meet his eyes.
Dan’s expression softened and he gave her hand a squeeze. “I’ll be there.”
Finally, ten minutes before the lunch hour was up, she spotted Phil striding across the cafeteria with a tray of steaming spaghetti. He would stand out anywhere with that deep, even tan, that gorgeous shock of blond hair, and that wide grin. His flip-flops clomped along the floor, and she noticed he was still wearing a T-shirt and his bathing trunks from work. Normally the building secretary frowned upon outsiders showing up in the cafeteria, or anywhere else on campus for that matter, but Phil’s charm worked like magic.
Sharon felt her pulse thundering in her ears. Phil had swept her away from the first day she’d met him. He was everything that Dan wasn’t—very cool and very romantic. He liked having fun and showed her a good time on every date. He was pretty good at kissing, too. She’d always thought he was a lucky catch for a girl as skinny and quiet as she was.
Her heart skipped a beat. That grin. Of course! This was all Phil’s idea. He must have sent out the invitations. He was always surprising her like that, taking charge and making things even better than they would have been. But she’d have to question him closely about the guest list.
She scooted her chair over to make room for him at the table. His big arm slid easily around her waist and pulled her over to him. He gave her a big kiss. “How’s my girl?” he asked. “Any luck inviting kids to your party?”
“Well, you’re the one who ought to tell me about that! What do you mean sending out those fancy invitations without letting me in on it?”
Phil gave her a blank stare. He stopped mid-bite, his spaghetti wound around his fork and his mouth wide open.
She fished an invitation out of her purse from someone who couldn’t make it. “You know, the gilt-edged ones like this?”
Phil examined it closely. “Wow!” he said. “Who sent these? You know I’d never have the money.”
“I—I thought maybe you’d surprised me,” she said, and then spilled the beans on who was invited.
Phil looked more and more surprised. “You sure your mom didn’t do it?”
“Mom doesn’t have that kind of money.”
He smiled. “Maybe it’s not so bad. It makes you look real good to send out such fancy invitations. Everybody’ll want to get to know you.”
“But, Phil, I don’t want everybody to think I’m a snob!”
“Whatever it takes, baby. Then you’ll be as popular as you deserve.” He kissed her on the forehead.
“Why, you sly one, you!” cried Donna. Her voice carried. She was head cheerleader as well as the richest and most popular girl in the school. She and her gang—Elaine, Marge, and Ruth—hurried over.
Sharon held her breath. Donna was the leader of the fastest set at Ocean High. She called the shots. Everybody wanted to dress like her. She was a catch at any party.
Her best friend, Elaine, was president of the senior class. She wasn’t far behind Donna in money, looks, or curve appeal. Every guy wanted to date her.
Marge was head of the drama club. Her mother was an actress, so Marge always dressed like she was shooting a movie on location. She always wore dark glasses.
And then there was Ruth, whose dad was the mayor. She had connections. Everybody wanted to cultivate her friendship.
Donna continued, “Didn’t know you were having a bash on Friday night. Sounds like fun. We’ll be there, won’t we, guys?”
Elaine, Marge, and Ruth nodded simultaneously.
“Looks like you’re spending a lot of money on it. These invitations are a work of art,” Ruth added.
“Yeah,” piped Marge. “This’ll be something we’ll remember the rest of our senior year.”
“You bet!” said Phil. “The sky’s the limit at this party. And you see what each one of them says: ‘TO THE BEST OF THE BEST!’ No jerks invited.”
Sharon couldn’t believe how easily Phil was playing along. But then that was just like Phil. He rolled with the punches.
“See, honey!” Phil whispered in her ear as Donna and her gang left. “By the end of the year they’ll be electing you prom queen.”
She wished she could be as confident as Phil. If only she didn’t feel like something wasn’t quite right….
The rest of the week was pretty much a blur. Everywhere Sharon went somebody was talking about the party. Friday night Sharon was so nervous that Phil insisted on taking her out sailboarding before the event. By the time they started to head in, Sharon was still nervous—but laughing.
Phil always made her laugh. He was so much fun she didn’t know what she’d ever done without him.
But when Phil drove her home in the Fun & Sun Resort Services van, Sharon’s good mood changed for the worse. She found her mother shouting in the parking lot. Mrs. Jones stood there in her dark skirt and a short-sleeved white blouse with a name tag that identified her as “Mrs. Jones: Manager.” She was mopping her brow and yelling at the caterers.
The caterers? No way! She and her mother had prepared their own food for the party—hamburgers, hot dogs, chips, and brownies, the sort of thing you’d expect at a party.
But here were not one but two catering vans that read: “GOURMET CATERING SERVICE. YOU CALL. WE DELIVER. 24 HOURS’ NOTICE.”
“There must be some mistake!” her mother was saying. “We didn’t order this food. We can’t afford it. The inn just opened last week.”
“Don’t worry.” The caterer assured her. “The food’s already paid for. All you need to do is relax and enjoy it.”
“We don’t know anybody who would do such a thing!” her mother said.
The caterer handed her a card.
Sharon peeked over her mother’s shoulder. Sure enough, the card said simply: “Compliments of THE BEST OF THE BEST.” It was the same person who’d sent out the gilt-edged invitations!
The white-uniformed caterers streamed through the garden gate at Ocean House until they reached the glassed-in pool enclosure.
All the brochures for Ocean House that her mother had sent out featured the black marble pool with a matching pool deck. It had been built early in the century by an eccentric millionaire. The pool had every possible luxury and convenience. It had an all-weather, glass enclosure with roof slats that opened to let in fresh air during the summer. The Key West ceiling fans were going full-force today. Rare plants surrounded the pool area. Then there were the white-tented cabanas where the guests could change next to the pool. There was a whirlpool in a bathhouse next to the cabanas. Lighted tennis courts came next. Her mother had ambitions to add a poolside snack bar or even a swim-up bar, but that would have to wait for the profits to roll in.
But the oddest thing about the pool was its shape.
There was a circular area in the shallow end where the steps descended into the pool. As it extended toward the deep end it turned rectangular and tapered down to a narrow point where the diving board was positioned. The shape reminded Sharon of something she had once seen but couldn’t exactly remember. It had been bothering her since the day they’d moved in.
The caterers started setting up a long table complete with warming trays, ice trays, and their own portable Dutch oven and gas grill.
Sharon started adding up mental dollar signs as she watched the caterers go back and forth again and again unloading tray after tray of food. There was enough to host a party at the White House!
“This is great!” said Phil. He and his buddies stood on the sidelines and gawked. They had just arrived themselves in the Fun & Sun Resort Services van, with all their pool gear. Her mother stood helplessly by wringing her hands, not knowing what to make of it all.
The food table was long and narrow. First came the china and crystal. Sharon picked up a fork and a knife. No kidding! Somebody had ordered real sterling silver flatware and linen napkins.
Next came the hors d’oeuvres: shrimp cocktail, Russian caviar, and delicate crackers.
A memb
er of the catering crew was mixing up a magnificent tossed salad, shredding fresh lettuce in a portable food processor, and chopping up onions and mushrooms. The salad was to be followed by a choice of three main courses: filet mignon with mushroom caps, Chateaubriand with new potatoes, or lobster.
At the very end of the long table was a portable freezer chest, complete with a server to dish out whatever flavor of ice cream took your fancy.
As if the food alone weren’t enough, Sharon saw a band setting up a stand under the oaks next to the picnic tables. Her mother was arguing with them, too. No doubt they were giving Mrs. Jones the same argument. It was all being paid for by THE BEST OF THE BEST.
“Gee whiz, look at that!” Sharon heard a familiar voice. She turned around and spotted Donna, Elaine, Marge, and Ruth gathered in a tight little knot a few yards away. They were all pretty well-to-do themselves, but Sharon could tell even they had never seen anything like this. They weren’t even looking at her, but were gaping at the long dinner spread and then turning to stare at Ocean House itself.
Sharon had almost forgotten how impressed she’d been with the house the first time she’d seen it. It certainly wasn’t your typical ranch or split-level. It rose three stories in all its Victorian splendor and ended in an octagonal tower.
Sharon was pulled from her thoughts by the music swelling up behind her. She didn’t even have a chance to greet her guests before the band started up. The music was so loud she could hardly hear herself think—let alone make herself heard. So she circulated from group to group and tried to make small talk.
But the elegance was so obvious and imposing that people became uncomfortable. The “queens” of the school, Donna, Elaine, Marge, and Ruth, stuck together and didn’t talk to anyone. Sue hung out by herself as did Vicki. Angel just stood there gaping at everything. She seemed so impressed she wasn’t even bothering to flirt with the boys.
Everybody hung back from the pool enclosure and sat in circles under the trees. Nobody mingled. Nobody headed for the refreshment table where a uniformed caterer was pouring Cokes into elegant, long-stemmed crystal and garnishing iced teas with sprigs of mint and sections of lemon. Nobody seemed to care that the weather was perfect for a swim.
Pool Party Page 1