by Coco Simon
Matt turned, and he and George and their friends began walking away from us and down the beach. Instantly, I looked at my legs to see what was wrong with them. But there was nothing. Nothing I could see. Except maybe that my legs are super-white?
“Mia? Is there anything funny about my legs?” I asked anxiously.
Mia sized me up, squinting. “No,” she said after a minute. “A little pale, but otherwise . . . superlong and pretty gorgeous!”
I blushed. “Oh, please!” I said. But inside I wondered if maybe, just maybe, Matt had been checking me out? I hoped so!
Now was the time to get on some sunscreen. I ducked under the umbrella and began slathering myself. “Anyone else want some?” I called, waving the tube in the air.
“Sure, but I’ll do your back first,” offered Emma, reaching for the tube.
I shrieked then as the cold sunscreen hit my sizzling back.
“Oh, Lexi—Alexis! You waited too long. This is bad. You’ve already got a burn,” she said, sliding my strap a little to the side.
“Well, thanks for putting on the stuff. By the way, your poor brother was so cold, he was shivering, but he won’t take his wet T-shirt off,” I told her.
Emma sighed. “I feel disloyal even saying it, but since you love him, I can tell you. He has a birthmark on his shoulder, and he’s embarrassed by it. So he wears a T-shirt at the beach to hide it. Meanwhile, the shirt makes him hot in the sun and freezing when he gets it wet, so I just think he shouldn’t bother.”
“Oh,” I said. Wow. Who knew boys were self-conscious too? “How big?” I asked. I couldn’t help myself.
“I don’t know. Like, the size of a hockey puck, maybe?”
Now a hockey puck might be a good reference for someone like Emma, who has three brothers, but for me that could mean the size of a quarter or the size of a pizza. “Is that big?” I asked.
Emma giggled. “Your turn,” she said, handing me the tube of sunscreen and turning around. She lifted her hair so I could do her back. “A hockey puck is maybe a two-and-a-half-inch-wide circle.”
“Huh.” So not tiny but not overwhelming. It made me feel very protective toward Matt, thinking he was shy of something. Especially since he’s so fit and has such a cute build. I couldn’t help it. I blurted, “I had no idea boys cared about stuff like that!”
Emma laughed hard. “Alexis, you are too much! Boys are people too!”
“They are?” I asked and shook my head, only half joking. “I had no idea!”
CHAPTER 4
Marked
Lunch with the boys was fun, and I noted that Matt had changed into a new, dry T-shirt, despite the fact his friends were still shirtless. I felt a little twinge in my heart, thinking of his birthmark. I guess it made me feel better knowing it, since I’m pretty insecure these days about myself. I wished I could tell Matt that we were alike—tell him something I hate about myself (one of the many things)—but I couldn’t think of how to do it without seeming like I was fishing for compliments or admitting Emma had told me something she shouldn’t have.
I ate my French fries and hot dog in the sunshine and looked out at the beach below us, now much busier. The ocean was a sparkling navy blue, and the sky was baby blue, with just two white fluffy clouds, way off on the horizon. There was a light breeze, but the sun was still strong. I knew I’d need to reapply my sunscreen after lunch. I had just my T-shirt on, so my shoulders were okay for now, anyway, but I realized I should’ve brought a hat.
“Lexi?”
I turned and saw that Matt was offering me a French fry from the new order he’d just picked up.
“Oh, thanks!” I smiled and reached out toward the cardboard box.
But then . . . “Matt! She hates being called ‘Lexi.’ It’s ‘Alexis’!” chided Emma.
I blushed instantly. “Oh, no! That’s okay. . . .”
“She thinks it’s babyish,” said Katie in a disbelieving voice. “I totally disagree, though.” She smiled at me and shook her head a little as she bit into her burger.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” blurted Matt. His face was bright red when I looked back at him.
“No! It’s fine!” I protested.
“What?” Now Matt just looked confused.
I sighed. This was turning into a mess. “If someone has always called me ‘Lexi,’ it’s fine. I just don’t want new people calling me ‘Lexi,’” I explained.
“That’s not what you told us!” said Mia.
“Oh,” said Matt. There was a pause. Then he said, “So what should I call you?”
“‘Lexi’ is fine,” I said.
“Wait, it’s fine for him but not us?” cried Emma indignantly. “You said we couldn’t call you that anymore, and it’s been really hard!” This was the kind of thing that made her mad about me liking Matt—my double standards. Oops.
I sighed; I just wanted this conversation over with. “No, it’s fine for everyone. Whatever. Never mind about the whole thing,” I said, embarrassed now.
Matt’s blush had faded, but he said, “I’ll call you ‘Alexis.’”
“Thanks,” I said. But deep inside I kind of like that he calls me “Lexi.” Too late for that now, I guess.
“Anyone up for some football?” George yelled from down in the sand.
We all agreed to try and cleaned up our lunch and headed off to their end of the beach, where there was some space. It crossed my mind that it was time to reapply a little sunscreen, but I didn’t want to seem like a sunscreen nerd, so I just kind of looked at my bag and followed along with everyone else.
Now I am not a football person. My dad isn’t into it, and I don’t have any brothers. I don’t understand how it is played or how you can even tell who is winning. But let me say this: It is my new favorite sport. Know why? Cute guys put their arm around you in the huddle!
I was on Matt’s team, of course, and when we would huddle to discuss our strategy, he’d pull me in next to him and hang his arm across my shoulders. Granted, his other arm was across George’s shoulders, but still! It felt really cozy and I loved it. We played for about an hour, and toward the end, I was kind of getting the hang of it: the running, the crossing lines, the tagging.
“Lexi—I mean, Alexis—you’re pretty good at this!” Matt huffed after one of our last plays. “Must be those long legs of yours!” he said impulsively, and then he blushed and turned away.
I was dumbstruck. So he had been checking out my legs! And maybe not because they were neon white. I couldn’t hold back my grin.
On the next play, we broke from our huddle and started out. We were tied, and this could be the end. I was going to go long for a pass from Matt, who was our quarterback, of course. But before he got a chance to throw, two of his friends on the other team executed a move they’d obviously planned, where they ran in and pulled Matt’s T-shirt up from behind and over his head so he couldn’t see. He still had the ball, and he kind of lamely tossed it, and guess what? I caught it! I couldn’t believe it! Everyone was so busy laughing at Matt with his shirt over his head that I saw an opportunity and took off running! Quickly, the other team realized what was happening, but I was too far gone. I ran as fast as possible over the bumpy sand, and even though my bathing suit was riding way up, I didn’t stop until I crossed the end line.
“Touchdown!” I yelled, spiking the ball proudly into the sand.
Most of my team came racing down the beach, whooping and hollering, and they grabbed me, and we danced around. But where was Matt?
I came up for air and looked for him. He was still back at the other end of the beach, his T-shirt in his hand, yelling at one of the guys who pulled it over his head.
“What’s going on there?” I asked Katie.
“Oh, he’s mad at that guy for yanking off his shirt. I think it ripped or something.” She shrugged.
But inside, I wondered if it was because he was embarrassed. I felt bad for him, so I looked away.
“Let’s hit the water!” cried Mia.
I was all hot and sandy from my sprint, so I was up for it. I took one look backward at Matt, and when I didn’t catch his eye, I jogged down the beach with the others, to put our shirts and cover-ups down and to head into the water.
The water felt colder than before when I plunged in this time, but it was also a relief. The other girls shrieked and wound up not coming in; they just splashed some water on their faces and washed the sand off their legs. I lazed around for a minute, getting all the sand off me. I had to rub my skin kind of gingerly because it was feeling a little sensitive. Then I got out. It wasn’t any fun without Matt, and I was too cold to stay in alone.
I blotted myself off and put on some more sunscreen, then I sat on my towel under our umbrella to do some Sudoku. I find numbers so relaxing that an hour could easily pass for me, doing these little puzzles. The other girls were chatting and reading, and after a bit, George wandered down the beach and sat on Katie’s towel for a chat. I looked up, but when I didn’t see Matt with him, I just hunkered back into my book.
But a few words caught my attention at one point, so I perked up to hear what George was saying.
“. . . so mad. He was mortified about his shirt coming off. . . .”
Ugh! I knew what he was talking about now. Poor Matt! I wished there was a way to let him know that I, at least, hadn’t seen his birthmark and that even if I had, I wouldn’t care.
“He’s just got to get over that!” piped Emma.
I sensed an opportunity to send Matt a message via George, so I inched over and said, “Who get over what?”
George looked at Emma, as if wondering if he should tell me, and Emma said, “Matt and his birthmark.”
“Oh.” I waved my hand breezily. “Everyone’s got something, right? I mean, who cares? Seriously. So not a big deal. Especially . . .” I paused. I wasn’t sure I really wanted to let George know how I felt about Matt.
But Katie jumped in and teased, “Especially when someone’s as handsome as Matt, right, Alexis?”
I just grinned and shrugged.
George smiled.
Message sent, I thought happily.
“Gosh, Alexis, you’re pretty fried,” George said suddenly, squinting at me under the umbrella. He wasn’t teasing. He actually looked concerned.
My hand flew to my face. “Really? That noticeable?”
The girls looked closely at me. “Yeah.” Emma nodded. “That might hurt later.”
I looked at my watch. Three thirty. “What time are we thinking of staying until?” I craned my head to look down the beach, to see if I might see Matt. Maybe I could wander down there one more time.
Katie stood up and stretched. “My mom had said we should leave by four since she has a date with Jeff tonight and she needs to get back.”
Katie’s mom is dating one of our teachers at school, Mr. Green, and it’s still funny to hear her refer to him by his first name. “Hey,” she added. “I forgot the reason we came in the first place. Any cupcake ideas?”
We all looked around the beach for a minute, and then Mia said, “Umbrellas? We could use those little tropical drink thingies.”
Emma said, “Beach towels? We could use Airheads candies—they’re little and rectangular, and they kind of look like beach towels!”
Katie laughed and clapped her hands. “Great!”
“Now we can write off our lunch as a business expense!” I said happily.
Everyone laughed, and we all began to pack up. I pulled on my skirt, shook out my towel, and put my book and pencil back in my bag. We were chatting about homework and exams, and Mia said, “Ugh. I am dreading that vocabulary test on Monday.”
“Oh, well, it’s on Tuesday, so don’t worry,” I comforted her.
But Emma said, “No, it’s on Monday.”
I shook my head. “It’s the twenty-eighth. That’s Tuesday.”
“That’s Monday,” Emma said quietly.
George and Katie had been chatting, but now they turned to us, and Katie asked, “Are you talking about what day it is?”
I nodded. I was starting to get a queasy feeling in my stomach all of a sudden. “When is the twenty-eighth?” I asked weakly.
“Monday!” they said in unison, and they laughed and turned back to chatting.
I sat down heavily on the sand. “Wait. Wait. Are you sure?”
Emma looked down at me and nodded sadly, like she hated to break the news.
“But I didn’t even bring my book home!” I wailed. Vocab is not one of my best subjects, either. I put my forehead in my hand. Oh boy.
Emma squatted down, “Lexi, it’s okay. You can come over and study with me tomorrow, okay? Don’t worry.”
“Thanks, Em,” I said, not even caring what she called me. “I can’t believe I spaced out like that! It’s so not like me!”
“I know,” she agreed. “Maybe your mind is just on other things right now,” she added.
“It shouldn’t be!” I said gruffly. I was mad at myself.
“I’m going to go tell my mom we’re ready,” said Katie, and she and George headed off across the sand.
Sighing, I stood up and dusted the sand off my legs. I had a lot of work to do, to get stuff finished tonight so I could study at Emma’s tomorrow.
“Don’t worry, Alexis, you’ll do great,” comforted Mia.
I groaned. “I doubt it,” I said.
“Hey,” Emma said.
“Hey,” said a voice behind me. Matt!
I whirled around, an idiotic grin on my face. “Hi!” I said. “I thought you left!”
He had his T-shirt back on. “Nah. Probably going to take one more swim. All those guys are such wimps, they won’t go in with me. I thought you might.” He smiled his lopsided grin at me. “But I can see you’re all dressed and ready to go, so we can do it another time.”
“Oh. Well . . . actually . . .” I looked down at my packed bag.
“Are you going to a party?” he asked.
Confused, I shook my head. “No. Why?”
“Oh . . . just . . . you look nice. That’s all.” He shrugged.
Darn this skirt! It was wrong, wrong, wrong. All I wanted to do when I got home was clean out my closet, and now I had to do homework, all because of this stupid vocab exam!
“Oh. Thanks,” I said, shrugging, trying to play it cool when inside I was totally stressed out.
“Ready, girls?” Mrs. Brown asked, arriving at our little group. She said hi to Matt and asked if she could help with our gear, and then she headed up to bring the car around.
“Do you have a ride?” Emma asked him.
“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks. See you guys.”
I wished there was something I could say to Matt that conveyed everything I felt right then, like, You’re so cute and nice and fun, I don’t care about your stupid birthmark, I wish I could swim with you now for an hour, and I hate this skirt, but I’m too tall to wear anything else.
Instead, I said, “Bye! See you tomorrow, maybe!”
And he said, “Bye, Alexis!”
No more “Lexi,” I guess.
I’ve never hated my name so much as I did right then.
CHAPTER 5
Burned
Despite the cool shower, some lotion, a ton of aloe, and a light cotton nightgown, there was nothing I could do that night but toss and turn in my bed, uncomfortable from my sunburn and my aching legs.
I had fried myself, it turned out. And worse, I had applied what little sunscreen I did use in such a sloppy fashion that I had big, dorky, white (non-burned) streaks across my chest and forehead and parts of my arms. I looked like a total freak.
“Holy raspberry-vanilla swirl!” Dylan had laughed when I got out of the shower that night.
I glared at her and stalked back to my room to google sunburn remedies.
Finding little of use, I asked my mom for an aspirin (it’s supposed to help both the burn and the achy legs, but it didn’t), listened to my mom’s lecture about skin cancer and sun
damage and how surprised she was at my “uncharacteristic disorganization,” did a bunch of homework, and went to bed. (Notice I didn’t say “went to sleep,” because I didn’t!)
The next morning, I was grumpy when I got up and made grumpier still when I checked my texts.
Katie had sent a Cupcake Club request for me to finalize the proposal for the beach barbecue cupcakes for her neighbor ASAP, because they might go with the bakery in town. Mia had forwarded a flyer for a bake sale fund-raiser at the shelter where the vet for her dogs, Tiki and Milkshake, worked, to see if we’d be willing to donate cupcakes. And Emma had texted to say she couldn’t meet this afternoon so how early could I come this morning?
“Ugh!” I yelled.
I replied yes to Emma immediately, because what else could I say? She was doing me a favor, after all. I wanted to ask her if Matt would be there, so I’d know how much time I should spend trying to find something decent to wear, but I knew she’d be annoyed if I asked. We’d seen a little too much of him yesterday for her liking, and I didn’t want to push it.
I started rifling through my drawers, looking for things I’d avoided in the past because they were too big. Also, I needed something that wasn’t tight on my shoulders or chest, where my burn was the worst. I got so frustrated at one point that I dumped my drawers out onto my made bed and scrambled everything up willy-nilly. I guess I must’ve been making a lot of noise because Dylan came in to gloat in my doorway. She leaned against the doorframe, smiling a little.
“Need my help again?” She smirked.
I growled at her. “No, thank you!”
“Looks like ya do!” she singsonged. “Don’t deny it! You know I can help you!”
I whirled around. “Oh yeah? You can help me? Okay. Try this one on. I need an outfit that won’t hurt my streaky sunburn, that will, in fact, hide my streaky sunburn; that doesn’t look too dressy or too casual; that isn’t too small for me; that says, ‘Hi, I’m here to study with Emma!’ but can also say, ‘Hi, Matt! I think you’re cute and I hope you like me, too!’ Oh yeah, and this needs to be something that you, Mom, or I already own so I can put it on in the next five minutes!” I stood with my hands on my hips, huffing and puffing, glaring wildly at Dylan.