“Huh,” he says, flipping through the book. “That sounds pretty cool.”
“It is cool,” I say. “Once they accomplish their task, they get back in the time machine. The goal is to get back home to their family and lives, but it just jumps them somewhere else.”
We get close enough to the signing table that I can finally get a good view of Gabe Foster at the table. He’s thin with short dark hair that’s pushed up in the front with a little product. He wears glasses—dark frames that don’t hinder his good looks. He’s got an amazing beard—something none of the boys at The Academy could pull off even if the dress code allowed it. And his shirt is a design from my favorite anime show.
As we get closer, I feel myself getting more and more excited. Gabe’s artwork and storytelling is really inspiring and if I had my way, I’d leave my private school in a heartbeat to go to the art magnet at Ocean Grove High. They turn out a lot of amazing talent, like Dean Turner from Avondale. His girlfriend, Lucy Harrington, went to The Academy, which is probably why my mother won’t budge on the issue.
“You’re freaking out a little, aren’t you?” Carter asks quietly.
“Maybe.” I won’t let him ruin my fun, but when I look up at him he’s grinning at me. When it’s our turn he places his hand on my back and nudges me forward.
I try not to embarrass myself, but my smile is huge as I approach the table. “Hi,” I say as he looks up at me. He’s holding a black marker between his fingers.
“Hi,” he replies, smiling wide and reaching out for my book. I slide it across the table. “Thanks for coming.”
“Of course. I love your books. And your artwork. And the website Norah runs. My friend and I are huge fans.” He looks at Carter and I shake my head. “Oh no, not him. My other friend who can’t be here today.”
“Well, I’m glad you made it.” He opens the front cover and poises the marker over it. “How do you want me to sign this?”
I stop. I was going to say myself but guilt hits me. I should give this to Katherine. I open my mouth to speak and Carter jumps in. “Make hers to Bea.” He holds out his copy. “And this to Katherine.”
I turn to him. “Really?”
“Sure.” His hand moves to my back again and a chill runs down my spine.
“Thank you.”
Gabe writes in my book, creating a little drawing at the bottom. I lean over the table and ask, “Is there any truth to the rumor Photobooth Society is being looked at for a TV show or film?”
His expression is non-committal. “I can’t comment on any specifics, but it would be awesome if something happened.”
He hands me my book and takes the other from Carter. I ask him to make it to Katherine and he gives her a special drawing. I feel pretty bad for not inviting her, but then again, this is kind of inevitable when she started dating Atticus. Different lives.
“I’ll be speaking for a little bit once the signing is done and then we’ve got a surprise presentation. I hope you stay for it,” Gabe says once he’s finished signing the second book.
“Absolutely. It was really nice meeting you. Thanks for sharing your gift.”
“Thanks for loving it.”
There’s a small stage set up with a big screen mounted to the wall in the back of the store. Chairs are lined up and Carter and I take two amongst all the other fans. I’m feeling a little giddy about the whole experience and I can’t help but smile up at Carter.
“So that’s your type, huh?”
I tilt my head. “Type of what?”
He glances back at Gabe. “Of guy. That’s who you’d really date.”
He’s studying me intently, curiosity evident on his face. Two weeks ago I would have said yes. Artistic, creative, hipster-y. The total opposite of the guys at The Academy. But now I see things through a different filter, one that includes broad shoulders and six-foot wingspans. I shrug. “I don’t know, I think maybe my tastes are evolving.”
We’re very close together in the tight seating area, and his eyes shift from holding mine down to my mouth. It’s been almost a full day since he kissed me but I can still feel the heat of his lips against mine.
The room fades around us and he says in a quiet voice, “Yeah, I know the feeling,” and then presses his lips against my forehead, soft and gentle. The result is a flurry of nervous energy in my belly.
“Thank you for coming, everyone,” Norah says from the little stage, breaking the moment. We both shift our focus but I’m fully aware of Carter sitting next to me, and even though I have no idea how he really feels about me beyond our agreement, when he wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me into his side, I get the sense that we both may be faking it in more ways than one.
24
Carter
Norah and Gabe get up on the stage but I’m not paying them much attention. I’m pretty consumed by the girl next to me, the girl I’ve spent most of the past twenty-four hours with, and I haven’t tired of her one bit.
That’s some kind of record.
Bea keeps surprising me. Every little thing, from her spirit to her humor and quirky interests. The driving lesson was both terrifying and fun. And I’d known she was a nerd. Like, not into sports or the other stuff my friends and I do. I’d gotten a glimpse in her room of the comic books and artsy posters. That silly but hot shirt she wore by the pool today. I knew it but didn’t get it until she sprung this event at the comic book shop on me.
That’s when I saw the real Beatrice Clarke. The girl away from her brother’s shadow and the role of betrayed best friend. Here, she wasn’t weighed down by the awkward uniforms at The Club, or even the outfits she bought to appease me and my demands. The instant we walked in the shop she revealed her true self and made no effort to hide it from me.
I’d seen snarky, angry, and annoyed Bea. I’d never really seen this side of her before; the happy side.
And to be fair, a different, unexpected side of myself was revealed, too.
Jealous.
I tried to play if off while she talked to the artist, Gabe Foster. I mean, in any other reality he wouldn’t be a threat to a guy like me, but Bea isn’t any girl, and all the muscles and trophies and cocky jock behavior isn’t going to impress her. I couldn’t even help but ask her to confirm that he’s her type. I needed to know before I got in any deeper if this is a fool’s errand.
Could she even look at me the way she looked at him?
That’s when she gave me a sliver of hope, and as I sit next to her waiting for the announcement by Norah and Gabe, I’ll hold onto it with an unbreakable grip.
“Many of you want to know if the Photobooth Society is going to become a TV show or film. Right now we have no answers to that, but we do have something exciting to share with you—something completely exclusive to this event. One of our biggest fans is here.” Gabe looks out into the audience and points to a girl a few years younger than us. “Emily, can you stand up?”
Emily hops up, blushing furiously. Bea gives me a questioning look. I shrug. I definitely have no clue what’s going on.
Gabe continues, “Emily happens to have a very talented, very impressive brother that knows that this is her favorite book series. Because of that, he approached us about making something special for her and all the other fans out there.”
This announcement is met by squeals from Emily’s friends and a wide smile by Norah.
“Who’s her brother?” I ask Bea.
“No idea.”
“So without making you guys wait any longer,” he says, with a grin, “here we go!”
He and Norah step off the stage. A video fills the screen, opening on a scene of an arcade. A few characters are playing games and the camera zooms in on one. His profile is familiar. I hear a gasp next to me and Bea’s hand clamps down on my leg.
“Holy crow.” She blinks. “It’s Dean Turner. In the Photobooth Society. It’s Dean Turner.”
Those are words I understand. I take her hand off my leg and thread my fingers
with hers. She holds tight as an ecstatic smile tugs at her lips. I don’t watch the screen. I watch her.
For the first time in my life, I get what it means for someone else’s happiness to give you joy.
The clip isn’t long. But the crowd is so enthusiastic, they play it twice. Once it’s over, Bea vibrates with excitement and it’s contagious—she’s contagious. Her energy spills over as she hugs Norah on the way out the door and I shake Gabe’s hand. Getting a star like Dean Turner to back your project has to be huge.
“That,” Bea says as we walk down the street, “was epic.”
I laugh. “It was pretty cool.”
“It was beyond cool.” She pulls out her phone for the tenth time. “Ugh, I want to call Katherine but she’ll be mad.”
“Then don’t call her.”
She slips her phone back in her pocket. “You’re a good sport, did you know that?”
“It’s kind of my thing,” I say, “you know, sports stuff.”
“That’s not what I mean.” We reach the car outside of Davie’s and she leans against it. It’s almost dark and the lights wrapped in the trees blink on.
“I know what you mean.” I force myself not to touch her even though I want to really bad. There’s no reason for it. No excuse. I shove my hands in my pockets. “I had a lot of fun.”
The moment ebbs between us and a warm breeze from the ocean lifts her hair. We stand toe-to-toe and I know the right thing to do is to get in the car, take her home, and end this pretty awesome day.
For once in my life, I do the right thing even though I really, really hate it.
25
Bea
Monday breaks cloudy and rainy and so do Tuesday and Wednesday. The kids at camp grow bored and restless. They’re tired of yoga and racquetball. Even a movie in the club’s private theater isn’t much of a reprieve. They bicker and argue and after three days, Maria and I are about to lose it.
“It looks like it’s just a drizzle this afternoon,” Maria says while the kids eat their snack. “Why don’t we head out to the pavilion and do something.”
“You don’t think it’s too wet?” I ask.
“I’m not sure I care.” She thinks for a minute and then her eyes light up. “Oh! I have an idea!” She steps into our supply closet and rummages around a little. A few moments later she reappears with a smile on her face and a colorful bag in her hands.
“Balloons?” I ask
“Water balloons.”
“You want to get even more wet?”
“I figure if we’re about to build an ark, we may as well have fun doing it.”
I agree. There’s nothing else to do anyway, so watching the kids pummel each other with balloons may be a good way to let off some steam.
“You take them to the locker room to change,” she says. “I’ll start filling these.
I gather everyone up with their bags and take them down the long hallway toward the locker rooms, thinking about how, if we go outside for a bit, I may be able to catch a glimpse of Carter.
Yep. I’ve become that girl. The one that wants to ogle my fake boyfriend as much as possible. This rain has made it hard. Sure, we ride to work together each day, but his dad has been home the last few days and has made him put in extra hours of training in the evening. Katherine has played it low-key since drinking so much on Saturday night and Atticus has given me a little space to breathe.
You’d think I’d enjoy a few nights home alone, but after spending the day with Carter on Sunday—after having so much fun at the comic book shop—I’m not really sure how I feel anymore.
I leave the girls in the changing area with instructions to behave, and I step outside and sit on a bench near the lockers. The locker rooms at The Club are as fancy as the rest of the place. There’s a little lounge next to the sinks. I hear two voices bouncing off the tile—one sounds familiar.
“This rain is a nightmare,” one says. “How am I supposed to work on my tan with the weather like this? I can already tell it’s fading.”
“It’s driving me crazy,” the other replies, there’s no doubt that it’s Sabrina, and I lean in to hear better. That’s when I realize that I’m totally eavesdropping. Maybe I do have a problem? I stand to leave but then hear something that makes me pause. “I really thought he’d cave by now.”
“Carter?” her friend laughs. “He’s definitely got more will-power than I expected, especially with you running around in those French bikinis.”
“He’s playing hard to get,” Sabrina replies. “I mean, I’ve tried everything; flirting and asking for help, following him at parties, asking him to party. I heard he was into all that but maybe my intel was wrong.”
“Maybe he has a girlfriend?”
“Who? The mousy red-head? Not a chance.” Ouch. “The other day I cornered him in the office. I may have accidentally had a bathing suit slip.”
They both laugh hysterically.
“Maybe he really is just focused on swimming? I hear some guys that compete at high levels are celibate.”
“There’s no way a guy with that kind of body isn’t hooking up with someone. I mean, even my dad has a crush on him.”
“Gross,” her friend laughs.
Sabrina giggles. “You know what I mean. My dad is best friends with his coach and you know how Daddy loves 'winners.' He sees an Olympic medal in his future, but he also talks about how he struggles all the time.” There’s a pause. Her voice lowers. “He came from a really rough background. Like foster care and everything.”
“Seriously? I just thought he was like the other kids, privileged and bored.”
“Nope.” Sabrina sighs. “So while Daddy wants him to succeed, and helped him get this job, he definitely doesn’t want me slumming it with a boy like that.”
“Which you love.”
“Of course. But I’m getting tired of playing this game. My plan had been to flirt with him for a few days and then have a torrid summer fling, but now I’m just bored.”
“How much time are you giving him?”
“Maybe another week? I’d like to bring him to the Fourth of July party. It’s not like I don’t enjoy a little bit of cat-and-mouse, but I do have my limits.” Again her voice lowers conspiratorially, “I met this cute guy down at the beach. He’s got his lifeguard certification and is more than willing to be my summer fling. If Carter doesn’t work out, I’ll just tell Daddy he harassed me and get him fired.”
The door opens and Lexi, one of the campers walks out. I see her and force a smile. “Everyone ready?” I ask quietly.
She nods and I follow her back in the changing area.
I can’t shake the unease I feel about hearing that conversation. First, it was gross, second, Carter is in a tight spot. He’s been warned he’ll lose his job if he flirts with Sabrina, but it seems like if he doesn’t flirt, or worse, he’ll lose his job.
And if he loses his job—he’ll get sent to boarding school for senior year. I have no idea what to do with that information. I definitely need to talk to him about it but when I go back out and meet Maria under the pavilion, there’s no time to consider it. She’s waiting with a huge bucket of water balloons and the kids are more amped up than usual.
It’s raining enough that there’s no one in the pool, but the guards are always on duty anyway—just in case it clears up. I see Carter and Katherine hanging out by the concessions stand, with the two guys that work inside. They’re each holding a fan of cards.
“Lucky them,” Maria says. “They get to play cards when it rains.”
Carter looks up and catches my eye. A slow grin appears on his lips and he gives me a quick wink, causing a shiver to run down my spine. Maybe it’s from the cold air, but it’s far more likely it’s from his attention.
Maria goes over the rules with the kids. No ganging up, no smashing in people’s faces. No running. They each get a handful of balloons and I grab two myself.
Maria looks across the pool deck. “Hey Carter!”
“Give a blow on that whistle, will you?”
He lifts it to his mouth and I watch, mesmerized, as he places it between his lips and gives a sharp tweet that cuts into the damp air.
The kids go crazy. All their pent-up energy and boredom boils over and they start an epic water balloon fight. Soon though, it becomes clear that they’re focused on attacking two particular opponents.
Me and Maria.
The first balloon hits me in the shoulder, exploding all over my hair and face. The second on my back.
“Stop! Stop!” I shout. “Maria!”
But it’s pointless, she’s under attack, water balloons crashing all over her.
Soon we’re backed up to the edge of the pool, completely cornered. Panicked I shout, “Carter! Help!”
He’s already been watching. They’ve all been watching, even the concession guys coming out of the stand. Hippie Sam laughs at our predicament and Carter slowly walks across the pool deck, swinging the whistle rope around his finger.
“Make them stop,” I beg, as another balloon splatters at my feet. “Please?”
“I don’t know,” he says, unphased by my dilemma. “Looks like you got yourself caught in a tight spot.”
“Carter,” I whine. “Shouldn’t you save your girlfriend from these mean, feral children?”
He holds my gaze for a moment and something in my chest flip-flops. I don’t know what it is, the look in his eye, the set of his jaw, the way he holds himself? All of it slams home and I realize I’m undeniably attracted to him.
“You’re right,” he says, walking over. “I do owe you one.”
“Thank you.”
His mouth shifts into a smirk. “If anyone’s going to take Beatrice out, it should be me.”
“Wait, what?” I ask, but it’s too late. He lunges for me, picks me up and suddenly we’re both flying through the air into the deep end. I yelp before plunging into the water, warm enough because it’s heated, and for the second time this summer, Carter and I are both in the pool—this time on purpose—at least by him.
Bea and the Bad Boy: Young Adult Sweet Romance (Love in Ocean Grove Book 3) Page 12