“Yay!” Melanie shouts. Her face manages to get even brighter red when Taylor turns to her. “I mean, oh good.”
She follows Taylor like a puppy over to where his friends are hanging out. So far Melanie is enjoying this vacation a lot more than I am. She giggles like an airhead as Taylor leans close to show her how to toss the Frisbee. It arcs away from them to land on someone’s picnic blanket. Melanie giggles again as Taylor goes to fetch it.
“He’s soooo cute,” she whispers in my ear.
“Cute as a golden retriever.”
“Hush,” she growls, elbowing me in the ribs. “Don’t ruin this for me.”
Jessica and I sit on a bench to watch Melanie, Taylor, and his friends play with the Frisbee. Jessica pats my knee. “How you doing?”
“I’m fine.”
“Dr. Tyrell says you’re making progress.”
“He gives you reports?”
“Nothing specific. Just general stuff.”
“Oh. Good.”
“You think you’re going to pass this semester?”
“Easily. I’ve already done most of my homework.”
“That’s good. I’m glad you’re finally taking school seriously.”
I snort at that. “I didn’t have much else to do. I mean other than washing dishes in the cafeteria.”
“That was your own fault.”
“I know. At least something good came out of it, right?”
“Right.”
“How about you?” I ask. “Anyone been hassling you?”
I’m sure she knows who I mean. “No. I think her people are busy now with this war.”
“So I can go home?”
“At the end of the semester.” She puts an arm around my shoulder. “I thought you’d want to stay to be close to that boy. Cory.”
“Colin,” I correct her. “You think we could move there? I’m sure they need baristas too.”
“I’ll think about it. First we have to sell the house.”
“Oh. How’s that going?”
“A couple of people have kicked the tires. No offers yet.”
“That sucks.”
“Heads up!” Melanie shouts. I barely have time to deflect the Frisbee before it would have hit Jessica in the face. Melanie jogs over, her face as red as a stop sign. “I’m so sorry—”
“It’s fine,” I say. “You almost done?”
“Huh? Oh. I guess.” Her lower lip trembles as if she’s about to cry.
Jessica sighs and then says, “Ten more minutes, OK? Then we really have to go.”
“Yay!” Melanie hugs Jessica as if they’re sisters and then she scampers off.
Jessica turns to me. “Is that what you’re like with Colin?”
“No! I’m not that goofy.” I give her a nasty grin. “What about you? You have any gentleman callers lately?”
“I don’t have time for a boyfriend. There’s my job and working on my thesis. And sometimes going to visit a little hothead.”
“Don’t blame me for your man troubles.”
“I’m not. I’m stating a fact.”
“Uh-huh. There has to be someone you’re interested in, right?”
“There’s a guy who comes in for a soy latte every day. He usually leaves two dollars in the tip jar. I think he’s waiting for me to ask him.”
“And you’re playing hard to get?”
“You’re too smart for your own good,” Jessica grumbles. “It isn’t the right time to get involved with someone. Especially if we sell the house.”
“That’s not stopping her,” I say, gesturing to Melanie, who shrieks as the Frisbee sails wildly off-target again.
“It’s easier for you kids. Wait until you’re a grownup. If you ever make it that far.” She sighs and then gets to her feet. Melanie doesn’t start to cry when Jessica tells her we have to go, but she’s on the verge. I hurry over to put an arm around her.
“It’s all right,” Taylor says. “Maybe I’ll see you again.”
“Maybe,” Melanie mumbles.
He gives her his cell number, Twitter handle, and Facebook account; the latter two won’t do any good at St. Martha’s. “Thanks for the game,” she says and then kisses him on the cheek.
As we continue our walk across Boston Common, Melanie recounts every moment of her time with Taylor. I hope I don’t sound that pathetic about Colin. I probably do. I let Melanie rest her head on my shoulder as she wails, “What if I never see him again?”
“We’re still here for five days,” I remind her.
“Oh, right.” That seems to cheer her up a little. After those five days I’m sure there will be a lot of tears and late night talks in our room.
***
After a day of walking around half the museums in Boston I’d like to take a nap in the room, but Melanie insists we try out our new bathing suits in the pool. I put mine on in the bathroom; in the mirror my face reddens. I should have got a one-piece like Melanie. I’ve got a total farmer’s tan going right now with my stomach and thighs bright white while my arms and face are tan from all the running I’ve done outside.
I step out of the bathroom and say, “You think we could hit a tanning booth tomorrow?”
“It’s not that bad. You just need a couple of hours to even it out.”
“Yeah, sure. You’re looking pretty sleek there, Flipper.”
“I should have got a cap for my hair too. Like the Olympic athletes.”
“It’s just a motel pool. You probably won’t even be able to do a lap with all the kids.”
“They’ll have to get out of my way.”
Jessica doesn’t volunteer to go with us to the pool; she’s doing the smart thing by taking a nap. Melanie and I get in the elevator and then go to the ground floor. As I figured, there are a bunch of kids already in the pool. Melanie doesn’t seem to mind this; she hops in the “deep” end and then starts to paddle around. “Come on, Rose.”
“I’m fine up here,” I say. “I’ll just work on my tan.”
“Party-pooper.”
“She said poop!” a little boy shouts.
I roll my eyes and then put on a pair of cheap sunglasses. I lean back on a chair, letting the sun—such as it is—wash over me. It’s too bad we didn’t decide to have our vacation in Florida. That was the last vacation Jessica and I took, when I was ten and Daddy took us to Orlando. Then he got promoted to captain and there wasn’t time for family vacations anymore.
As if she’s five, Melanie shouts, “Rose, watch! Watch me!”
I sit up in my chair with a sigh. “I’m watching.”
Melanie sinks down in the water and then pushes off from the back wall. Her body shoots through the water like a torpedo. She really is a lot more aerodynamic in the water than on land. As her momentum fades, she bobs to the surface and then starts chopping through the water. As she promised, the little kids have to get out of her way or risk getting clobbered.
She reaches the shallow end of the pool and then turns to start back. The way she’s bobbing up and down looks like a frog. I can’t help laughing at it. Melanie glares at me once she gets to the deep end. “What?”
“You look like a frog.”
“That’s the breast stroke.”
“Uh-huh. Ribbit. Ribbit,” I tease her.
“You can stop watching me now,” she shouts. I take her up on that, leaning back in my chair to soak up some sun. I don’t get very tan, but I suppose it’s a little better. Maybe we can go visit Cape Cod or somewhere that has a beach where I could work on my tan properly. Then next week I could show Colin my awesome tan.
“You didn’t even get wet,” Melanie grumbles as we get in the elevator.
“So?”
“Why buy a bathing suit if you’re not going to go in the water?”
“You know what those little kids do in there, don’t you?”
“Oh, shut up. They do not.”
“Of course they do. Why do you think they put all that chlorine in there?”
> “Whatever.”
While Melanie dries off, I go next door to wake Jessica up. She looks so peaceful on the bed that I feel bad for shaking her shoulder, but I’m getting hungry and she’s the one with the money. She rolls over and then looks up at me. “Oh, hey. What time is it?”
“Almost seven.”
“Really? Wow.”
“Yeah. Let’s go get some din-din.”
She grins at that. ‘“Din-din?’ Are you serious?”
“I’m a little lightheaded really.”
“Fine, we’ll go get dinner. Put some clothes on first.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I go next door to change into a T-shirt and jeans for dinner. Melanie is in the bathroom taking a shower; I go next door to wait for her. “Is this appropriate?”
“It should be fine. What do you kids want?”
“I don’t know. Something quick.”
“Sure.”
We meet up with Melanie and then go downstairs. There’s a Wendy’s a couple of doors down that is good enough since we’re all hungry and don’t want to wait too long. Melanie gets a double cheeseburger with the largest order of fries. “Swimming works up an appetite,” she says.
“I’ll say.”
“You kids enjoy your first day in Boston?” Jessica asks.
“It was fun.”
“Especially the park,” Melanie says. “Can we go back tomorrow?”
“You just want to see Taylor again.”
“So? He’s cute. And he’s really sweet.”
“How old is he?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t ask.”
“He’s probably like twenty-two.”
“He is not!”
“Leave her alone,” Jessica snaps at me.
“I’m just teasing,” I whine.
“We can go back to the Common if you want,” Jessica says.
“Thank you.”
“Maybe I’ll wear my bikini. Stretch out on the grass to get some sun,” I say. Melanie giggles at that. I make sure not to give her any more grief about Taylor; after all, I know what it’s like to care about a boy you hardly know.
***
By the time we get back to the room I’m exhausted. I could go right to sleep, but Melanie says, “We should go check out the night life.”
“Are you serious?”
“Totally! I’m sure there are a lot of awesome clubs.”
“And do you have an awesome fake ID?”
“Party-pooper.”
“You said poop!” I shout like the little boy at the pool.
“Oh, shut up. I’m just saying eight o’clock is too early to turn in. We’re not my grandparents.”
“My sister would kill us if she found out.”
“Ooh, big tough Robin is scared of her sister.”
“I am not! I just don’t want her to freak out about me again. I’ve put her through enough already.”
“Fine, we don’t have to go to any clubs. My brother has a friend here. He owns a comics shop downtown. We could go check it out.”
“Now? It’ll probably be closed by the time we get there.”
“It will be if we keep arguing about it.”
“And how do we get there?”
“I brought a few bucks. We’ll take a cab.”
It sounds like a terrible idea and I really am tired, but I don’t want to let Melanie down. “Fine. But we have to be back by eleven.”
“Yeah, sure.”
We slip out of the room. I put my ear to Jessica’s door. The TV is on so I can’t tell if she’s sleeping or just watching it. Either way, she’s probably not going to open the door for a couple of minutes.
We hurry over to the elevator and then go out front. I let Melanie wave down a cab for us since she’s a lot easier to spot. We get in and then Melanie gives the cabbie an address. This still seems stupid, especially with what happened to Melanie on campus. I hope we don’t end up like the girl in that Taken movie, being kidnapped and sold to some gross guy.
The cabbie drops us off in front of Celtic Comics, a hole-in-the wall shop with a bunch of superhero posters in the window. The “OPEN” sign is still lit; Melanie tries the door and it opens. I follow her inside and then shake my head.
At a card table at the back of the store are Taylor and his friends. They’re playing one of those role-playing games with wizards and orcs and whatever. “Gee, what a coincidence,” I grumble.
“All right, fine, this is what I was planning all along,” Melanie says. “Just be cool, all right?” She smiles brightly and then skips over towards the table. “Hey guys! Fancy meeting you here!”
I groan and then shake my head. I never figured Melanie for such a master manipulator. Had she called Taylor earlier or had she overheard them talking about this place? However she found out, we’re here now. While she schmoozes with Taylor and his friends, I browse the racks of comic books.
“See anything you like?” a chubby guy asks me.
“Not really. I haven’t read a comic book since I was seven. Well, except this one my friend drew.”
“Comic books aren’t for little kids. I mean, not most of them,” the chubby guy says. He takes an issue of Batgirl off the shelf to hand to me. “You’d probably like this.”
“Yeah, sure.” I skim a few pages. As I do, I try to imagine myself like this, flipping off of rooftops and punching bad guys in the jaw. That stuff didn’t work out too well for me on the docks. “It’s OK,” I say so as not to hurt the guy’s feelings.
“You must have come here with your friend, huh?” He gestures to where Melanie is sitting at the table, talking excitedly with Taylor.
“How could you guess?”
“I have a friend I drag to comic book stores all the time. He has that same look on his face.” The chubby guy holds out a hand. “I’m Wesley.”
“Rose.”
“So if you’re not into comics or RPGs, what are you into?”
I shrug. “Nothing, really. I go to this really uptight Catholic school. They don’t let us do a lot. We can’t even hang posters.”
“That sounds pretty strict. Doesn’t seem to stop your friend.”
“She’s trying to impress that guy. She’s really smitten if you can’t tell.”
“I can tell. What about you?”
“Are you coming on to me? I’m only sixteen.”
Wesley holds up his hands. “Whoa, there. I was just making conversation.”
“Sorry. And yes, I do have someone. He’s back in New Hampshire.”
“Is that where you’re from? You don’t seem like a country girl.”
“I’m not. I’m from Redoubt City. I go to school in New Hampshire.”
“Redoubt City? That place is pretty scary. Like Gotham City—only real.”
“Yeah, it could probably use someone dressing up like a bat,” I say, waving the comic book at him. “I got a question for you: if someone did want to do this in real life, how would they go about it?”
“Well, first it helps if you have a couple of billion dollars to buy yourself all the cool gadgets and stuff.”
“What if you’re short a couple of billion?”
“Then you probably won’t have any gadgets. Or an awesome lair either.”
“Yeah. But you could still do something, right?”
“Sure. There are people who sort of do that stuff in real life. They get dressed up in a costume and everything.”
“What kind of costume?”
“It depends. Something with some padding for if you get punched or have to jump off a roof or something. A helmet too.”
“It still sounds kind of expensive.”
“A couple hundred bucks. You asking this about anyone specific?”
“Just making conversation.”
“You want to see a real life superhero, check this out.” Wesley leads me over to the front counter and there’s a copy of Melanie’s book. “I got this from a friend in Redoubt City. His sister drew it. She swears it’s based on a true
story.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“You do?”
I gesture to Melanie. “The author is back there. She could autograph it if you want.”
“Really? That’s her?”
“Who were you expecting?”
“Tell your friend she’s really good. I never would have thought it was drawn by a kid her age. I mean, this is like professional quality.”
“I’ll have to take your word for that.”
“So who’s the girl?” he asks, tapping the cover image of me posed in mid-kick.
“I don’t know. I only met the author at school. It had already happened by then.”
“That’s too bad. Anyway, this girl has a pretty good look.”
“Yeah, probably. Doesn’t look like a lot of padding or anything.”
“Sure, but if you can do this ninja stuff you don’t want to be too heavy.”
“What happens when the bad guys start shooting at you?”
“Then you need to get your ass out of there.”
I nod at that. I should have done that at the docks. Then again I shouldn’t have gone in the first place. I look back at Melanie and then ask, “What about a leather jacket? Would that be too heavy?”
“I don’t think so. Wouldn’t really provide the best protection.”
“You’re probably right.”
Wesley lets me sit on his chair behind the counter and read some of his comics while I wait for Melanie to finish with her new friends. I shake my head as I study one comic after another. Most of the women in these have boobs bigger than my head and wear less than me in my bikini. They’re all tall, even more so with the spike heeled boots they wear. Of course I’m sure guys like Wesley and Melanie’s brother who have probably not gone out with a girl in years dreamed these characters up.
I’m about ready to fall asleep when Wesley does me a favor by breaking up the game in the back so he can close up for the night. I watch Melanie kiss Taylor on the lips, though it’s pretty brief. I can imagine how hard it’s going to be to get her to leave Boston now. Jessica and I will probably have to knock her out and then tie her to a seat on the bus.
Wesley calls a cab for us; I wait in the backseat while Melanie says goodbye to Taylor. She promises to meet him again tomorrow, that is unless Jessica finds out we snuck out and then we’ll spend the rest of Holy Week locked in our room. She kisses him again and then sags onto the seat next to me.
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