Taming Chloe Summers (Grover Beach Team #7)

by Anna Katmore

  “You two came here together?” Her gaze narrows. “Does that mean—”

  “He’s a counselor at camp, too,” I explain quickly, now regretting that I had Brinna keep it a secret from the other two for so long. “Actually, he’s in charge.”

  “Really? How interesting.”

  “Was a bit of a surprise when we ran into each other.” Helplessly, I grimace at Justin. “Wasn’t it?”

  He only arches one probing eyebrow at me, lips shut and sealed.

  “Looks like you’re having fun here,” Lesley squeaks on, having no trouble changing the subject. “A cosmo?”

  “No, it’s not. This is cranberry juice,” I hear myself mumble as I stroke the long glass stem, my eyes fixed on Justin’s face. A muscle jumps back and forth in his jaw like a ticking time bomb. I swallow and wonder who of us is feeling more uncomfortable this minute.

  “Oh.” Lesley touches my arm, making my head snap toward her. “Anyway, you should’ve told us it’s your day off. Kirsten and I would’ve picked you up and spent it with you.”

  “She couldn’t.”

  Justin’s harsh tone leaves a trail of goosebumps on my skin.

  “Couldn’t spend it with us?” Lesley coos in this oh-so-arctic voice she always uses when she doesn’t really want to talk to somebody.

  “Couldn’t tell you,” he replies, equally frosty. “All cells were handed in on the first day.” Any more of this, and I might have to go find myself a pair of gloves and a scarf. “Counselor phones, too.”

  Lesley bursts out laughing. “You clearly underestimate Chloe if you think she wouldn’t find a way to talk to her best friends for an entire summer.”

  “Lesley!” I hiss, nearly tipping over my drink.

  Her tongue clicking does little to placate me. “Come on, he can’t be this ignorant.” Again, she turns her bittersweet glare on Justin. “Or don’t you remember the tricks we played as kids?”

  He blows out an irritated breath through his nose. “Be sure that I do remember all of your dirty tricks, Caruthers.” His features are carved in stone. So are Lesley’s. They stare each other down, and I’m pretty sure if someone powdered the air between us right now, there would be laser beams crisscrossing the table. Man, how I wish I’d never come up with the stupid plan to buy the scripts today.

  “Oh, pleeease…” Les waves him off with a demeaning snicker. “You can’t still be mad.” She bats her lashes in the most innocent way. “Most of the jokes were funny! Even you have to admit that.”

  “Right. Because fifty spiders in your backpack is hilarious.”

  I don’t see Justin laughing.

  “Ohmigosh, it so was.” Lesley giggles and pokes me with her elbow. “Wasn’t it?”

  I swallow. He used to read Spider-Man comics all the time, so for a Halloween prank, Lesley thought it would be funny to tip a jar of spiders into his school bag. I didn’t stop her, even though I was cringing inwardly. His horror-stricken face haunted me for the rest of tenth grade.

  “Anyway.” She stops sniggering as fast as she started, ignoring Justin completely and focusing on me once more. “Since you’re already here, we should spend the day together. Let’s go shopping and get a manicure.” Grabbing my hand, she examines my fingernails with great disapproval. The pink polish of two days ago is already chipped in some places. Busy with organizing the drama lessons, I completely forgot to redo them. “Justin can go back without you,” she adds. “I’ll take you back this evening.”

  Ever since I got locked up at camp, I’ve missed my friends so badly. But now that one of them is here, I wish she was miles away. Shopping, or even a manicure, isn’t what I want today. There’s another place calling to me more. Camp Clover. I shouldn’t be sitting here watching an old and a new friend fight, but instead working on a play with a bunch of boisterous youngsters. I don’t even know when it happened, but somehow they grew on me during those past few days.

  My chest hurts with the need to tell Justin all of this. And Lesley, too. But as I open my mouth, Justin lifts his finger, signaling the waitress, and mouths, “The bill.”

  I drag my brows into a deep frown. “What are you doing?”

  “I’ve got a camp to run.” He doesn’t look at me when he says it but retrieves the money from his wallet for our lunch and special drinks. When the waitress appears at our table, he pays her and tips her generously. As soon as she’s gone, he grabs the plastic bag of scripts from the table and rises from his seat, making brief but sharp eye contact with me. “You have a ride back, so enjoy your day off. I’ll see you later.”

  “But—”

  He doesn’t give me a chance to explain anything. Without a goodbye to Lesley, he walks to the door, shoving his wallet back into his pocket as he exits the place.

  “What the heck, Lesley?” I blurt out when we’re alone. “Was that really necessary?”

  Her face is hard as stone. I knew all of her happy chitchat earlier was just for show. “You and Justin? How come?” she demands with bitter reproach.

  “I told you, he’s in charge at camp. There’s little chance to avoid him there. Now move! I need to get to him before he leaves.”

  Her mouth hanging open in protest, she reluctantly makes room as I push her out of the booth, dragging Justin’s leather jacket behind me. “You’re going back with him? Now?” she asks incredulously.

  “I have to.”

  Those narrowed blue eyes take on a darker shade. “He said you could stay.”

  But I don’t want to. Feeling the sting of my own betrayal in my chest, I squat and pick up the shopping bags for her. “Listen, my chance to go to London is at stake here. I only have to last one more week, and he’s one of the people judging me. I can’t screw this up.”

  “Yeah? It didn’t look like he was judging you a few minutes ago, before I came in. More like you’ve become best buddies. I thought you two hated each other?”

  We sort of did, all through high school, and Lesley played a key role in it. But right now, I just don’t have time to discuss the past. Justin is heading toward his motorbike. In two minutes, he’ll be gone.

  In nothing short of a panic, I grab my friend by her shoulders and look her straight in the eye. “Sorry, but I’m following him right now. We’ll have enough time to go shopping and get manicures after this week. Don’t take it personally. I just have to do this.” I hug her hard. “Take care and tell Kir I said hi.”

  Clutching the bags to her chest with one arm, she stares at me with an open mouth. Ah, well. In a few minutes, she’ll get over it. I swish past her and hurry to the door. Once there, however, I pivot and lock gazes with Lesley one last time. Slipping into the leather jacket with the slightly too-long sleeves, I tell her in a gentle voice, “We’re not in high school anymore, Les. Things don’t always have to be black and white.” Then I draw in a deep breath and leave the cafe.

  Down the street, Justin is mounting his bike. After a quick check left and right, I start to run and reach him just in time, as he slides the key into the ignition. Without a word, I climb onto the bike behind him and loop my arms around his middle.

  “What the—” Startled, he jerks forward, shifting sideways so he can look at me.

  “I can’t believe you would’ve left without me,” I scold him. His eyes grow as big as balloons. Only when I give him a tiny smile do they slowly warm over. “Can we go back now?” I ask in a small, placatory voice.

  For another fathomless moment, he simply stares at me in wonder, but eventually he reaches for the handlebar, where the helmet still hangs. He holds it out to me, and the corners of his mouth twitch the tiniest bit.

  A deep sigh of relief escapes me as I fasten the helmet under my chin, but Justin doesn’t hear it. When the dragon starts to roar underneath us, I wrap my arms around him, digging my fingers into the fabric of his shirt. Slowly, we roll off and merge into traffic.

  By far, the ride back isn’t as exciting as the tour down to San Luis Obispo. In fact, it’s quiet and so
mewhat melancholic. All the way out of town and up the mountain, I hug him tight, thinking of the day Lesley dared me to tell a lie in order to prove my loyalty and my worthiness of becoming a member of her clique.

  *

  A golden sunset graces the top of the trees. Sitting on the banister of the porch, one heel propped up on the wood, I rub a pad soaked with nail-polish remover over my toes until all my nails are clean. I couldn’t decide which color to team with my black jeans and dark-gray top, so I brought the whole selection outside with me. Seven tiny bottles are aligned in front of me. Apricot is my favorite, but I’ve had it on for two days and don’t want to reuse it yet. So what instead?

  Peach?

  Strawberry?

  Taupe would fit my tee, but I’m not in the mood for taupe. In fact, none of these colors really attract my interest, so eventually I reach for the last bottle in the line and paint my toenails and fingernails clear tonight.

  It only takes a minute for the varnish to dry. A strange feeling overcomes me when I lift my hands and examine them in the fading light. They haven’t been color-free for a single day in the past six months. I also haven’t put on makeup after my shower half an hour ago. For one, because I plan to call it an early night, leave a weird day behind, and start over with a fresh mind tomorrow. And two, for the same reason as the polish—I just couldn’t pick a shade of lip gloss that would have made me happy.

  Natural as can be, I pad into the cabin to put the bottles away, but when I glance at my pillow, it doesn’t hold an ounce of interest either. It’s far too early to go to sleep, and not only because I share this cabin with an Owl.

  Strolling aimlessly, I wander back outside, where a carefree ruckus has been rocking the area for over an hour. The entire Tiger group and most of Julie’s kids are playing Pictionary on the porch of the Owl cabin. “Come over and join us!” my roomie calls out, beckoning me with a waving hand the moment she sees me reappear through the door. “We’re short one player.”

  “Nah, thanks!” I shake my head. Drawing random things won’t lift my mood tonight.

  Five minutes later, I’m bored shitless as I watch the sun slide behind the roof of the Tiger cabin. Maybe a little walk will help. Too lazy to even go inside again and put on a pair of sandals, I saunter down the steps barefoot and wander off toward the lake. It’s almost dark when I get there, but still light enough to make out a lonesome guy sitting on the dock.

  My, my… Seems someone else is a little thoughtful tonight, too. Although Justin doesn’t turn his head, I know his eyes are following me as I amble around the lake.

  At the first step onto the dock, I hesitate and draw in a deep breath. Three particular components of the evening—the warm wood under my bare feet, the frogs giving a croaky concert in the distance, and a mild summer breeze wafting around my naked arms—bring back memories of a very special night. When the old, familiar tingle in my stomach fades, I slowly walk toward the end of the dock and sit down.

  Minutes tick away in which neither of us says a word. Just watching the moonlight illuminating the water like crystal seems to be enough for both of us. A group of fireflies dances in the night sky, and here and there the bubble of a surfacing trout can be heard.

  “You missed dinner,” I eventually break the silence in a soft voice.

  Justin grips the edge of the wood and leans forward to stare at the water beneath our dangling feet. “I wasn’t hungry.”

  Neither was I, but I went to the dining hall anyway. Wanting to see him. After we returned to camp this afternoon, he barely gave me time to get off his motorbike and hand him the helmet and jacket before he disappeared from the parking lot. “You also didn’t give me a chance to say thanks this afternoon.”

  “For the ride? There’s no need to. I’m here to help out with anything that concerns the kids.”

  “No. Not for the ride,” I say quietly. Intrigue fills his gaze as he tilts his head toward me. A strand of dirty-blond hair falls into his left eye, one I refuse to skim aside for him. Instead, I clarify, “For the J. Andrews Sour. That was really nice of you.”

  The edges of his lips lift into a smile. “You’re welcome.”

  “Seeing that you’re actually quite a nice boy,” I joke as I stretch my arms in the air and flex my spine, “I wonder why you don’t have a girlfriend.”

  “You only figured that out today?” he mocks me with waggling eyebrows.

  “That you can be sweet?”

  “Mm-hm.”

  “Well…maybe I’ve known for a while.” Scrunching up my nose, I grin. “But anyway, why don’t you have a girlfriend?”

  He shrugs and counters, “Why don’t you have a boyfriend?”

  “Hmm. I guess the right guy just hasn’t been around yet.”

  “See? Same for me.” He pauses, and then his low, melodious chuckle fills the humid air. “Minus your myriad one-night stands, that is.”

  “Har, har.” I shove him hard against his biceps, and he sways to the side, laughing. His unzipped hoodie slides off his left shoulder. When he straightens again, he adjusts it and shoves up the sleeves to his elbows, still bearing an amused expression.

  His taunt probably serves me right, though. He can’t know the truth, after all. Lifting my feet onto the dock and wrapping my arms around my legs, I ask, “Do you want to know a secret?”

  His sharp eyes scrutinize me. “Not if it means I have to tell you one of mine in return.”

  What? He’s got secrets? Boy, would I love to hear them! I giggle. “No, silly. You don’t have to tell me anything.”

  “Okay. Then shoot.” He drags his feet up, too, and shifts to face me, cross-legged. “I’m dying to know.”

  All right, here goes… “I haven’t slept with half as many guys in high school as you might think.” This is something that not even Lesley or Kirsten know. Brinna does, but up until this very minute, Justin would have been the last person on earth I’d have told. I have no idea what’s made me spill now. Maybe it’s a bit of bad conscience for how I messed up our friendship so long ago. Or maybe it’s just the flashbacks that haunt me as I sit here in the dark with him.

  Justin shifts his mouth to one side, contemplating this bit of information, then his forehead crinkles into a speculative frown. “How many do you think I think there were?”

  At his wording, I burst out in another round of giggles. “Well, I know that many people thought it was in the in the mid-twenties.”

  His tight smile reveals that I’m dead on target about his guess, too. “And the truth is?” he asks.

  “The truth is…” I inhale deeply and stand up. Two seconds later, Justin follows suit, searching my face as he waits for an answer. “There were some, but not that many, by far.”

  Confusion and a little bit of incredulity mar his face. I didn’t expect anything less.

  “Okay, now you do have to explain,” he insists.

  Talking works better for me when I walk, so, with my hands shoved into my pockets, I wander back toward the shore with Justin at my side. Off the dock, we take a turn to the right and leisurely stroll on. “Well, you do know the first guy I slept with,” I start with a tease, though I keep my chin low and my gaze on the ground.

  Quietly, he chuckles. “Obviously.”

  “Right. And, after you, I didn’t want to sleep with another guy for a really long time.”

  “And when you say really long, we’re talking…eight…ten weeks?”

  Yeah, that was about the first time after my night with Justin that I concealed the truth about a date gone bad. Of course, he would have heard the gossip about it. A deep sigh expands my chest. “More like a year and a half.”

  Even without looking up, I sense how his head snaps to my side and feel him scrutinizing me in confusion. “What about Jake Abrams, Stan Whitfield, Harry Jonson, Marcus Kavannor…?”

  Impressed that he remembers their names, I meet his gaze. “Wow. You kept track of who I dated?” And even in the right order.

  “For
a while, anyway,” he confesses sheepishly, fixing his gaze on the path before us again.

  To hear that warms my heart. And also stings a little. “I guess Jake Abrams started it all. We went out a couple times. On our third date, he wanted more. And I didn’t.” A nonchalant shrug rolls off my shoulders. “My handprint on his face is what his hassling earned him that night. But the dude was a little pissed, and his pride was thoroughly broken. He couldn’t let the truth slip out, of course, so he told his friends the following day that he banged”—rolling my eyes, I make air quotes with my fingers—“the chick until she screamed his name.”

  Justin’s incredulous voice cuts through the dark. “And you never set that straight?”

  “When I first heard about it, I was hurt. And shocked. Ready to cut off his balls.” Today I can laugh about it, but back then it nearly destroyed me. “I planned to expose his lie in front of all his friends, but that morning, something strange happened. All of a sudden, I was getting a whole lot more attention than ever before.”

  “And here I thought you were getting enough of that just by running with Lesley’s pack,” he replies in a somewhat snide voice.

  I cut him a fleeting sideways glance. “Things changed so much after I met her.”

  Justin tucks his hands into the pockets of his jeans and tilts his face skyward. “Yeah. I know…” A weak laugh escapes him. “I don’t remember you being a liar in the time before Lesley.”

  Though it sounds casual, his comment stings. I know it’s much, much, much too late for an apology. But I have to try anyway. “At the end of that summer, Lesley dragged me into the woods and told me what it would take to become a real member of her clique. She dared me to spread a lie about you, of all people.”

  Justin bites his lip, seeming to drift off into the land of his own memories for a moment. Then he asks with a hard edge to his voice, “Did she tell you why me in particular?”

  She never did. Justin and I had kept our dating secret and met at night throughout summer. No one knew about us. “Les made picking your name sound random,” I tell him, “but I think she’d found out about us. Maybe she followed me one day and saw us, I don’t know.” If I’ve learned one thing about her since we’ve become friends, it’s that she has eyes and ears everywhere. “Perhaps she was just pissed I didn’t confide in her in the first place.” When Justin remains silent for an uncomfortably long moment, I continue, “Everything was so exciting with her and Kirsten, and I was afraid to get dumped by them if I refused to do what she demanded.”