Lovestruck Summer

by Melissa Walker

  239 “This is nice,”I say, feeling a little under- dressed in my T-shirt and jean shorts, not to mention underage, next to all the sundresses and high heels nearby. There’s even a girl from Project Runway, I notice, at the table behind us. Not that I watch that show. Very often. “It’s like LA here,”says Sebastian. “Oh,”I say, “have you been to LA?”“No,”he says. I laugh, but he doesn’t. I guess Sebastian thinks he can seriously know LA without having been there. I see Jade walking through the patio. I asked her to come hang out with us. She puts on a good face about the Rick thing, but I know she’s been lonely lately. “Hey, guys,”she says, sliding into a seat next to us and fl agging down a waiter. Sebastian orders a fruit-and-cheese plate, which feels fancy and very adult-like. He talks about his latest gig, and Jade and I tell him about the August music festival, which is going to be awesome. “We’ll go to that together,”says Sebastian, more telling me than asking me. But I guess I

  240 don’t mind. And just when I’m thinking that we’re having a nice (if slightly boring) time here, I spot him. Rick strolls in with some older lady on his arm. Okay, maybe she’s like twenty-fi ve, but still. Yuck. I glance over at Jade to see if she’s seen them. She hasn’t yet—she’s reaching for the last plump red grape. But then she looks up and her eyes widen. I put my hand on her arm, but I can already see the beginning of major anger working its way across her face. Sebastian doesn’t notice. He’s still talking about his upcoming shows and the new samples he’s thinking of mixing into his set. “Just ignore them,”I say quietly to Jade, who’s watching Rick’s and the lady’s every move as they sit down at a table across the patio from us. I don’t think he’s seen us yet. “Quinn,”says Sebastian. “Are you paying attention to me at all?”“Sorry—Rick just walked in,”I say to him. “Oh, let’s go say hi,”says Sebastian.

  241 “No!”Jade and I shout simultaneously. “He and Jade kind of had a . . . falling out,”I explain. Sebastian doesn’t know anything about the hookup—no one does. Jade and Rick have been okay around each other in the offi ce, but I know seeing him with some woman makes her cat-scratch mad. The look on her face is evi- dence of that. “Whoa,”says Sebastian, catching Jade’s expression. “Must’ve been a big falling out.”“We hooked up,”says Jade. “But it didn’t mean anything. To him.”“Rough,”says Sebastian. He looks over at Rick and the lady. “You can’t blame him though. She’s pretty hot.”I glare at Sebastian then, harder than I’ve glared in a while. “What?”He shrugs. “Let’s move,”says Jade. “I can’t watch them all night, but I’m not going to let them chase us out of here either.”The trouble is, the San Josépatio area is pretty small. We head over by the tiny pool and sit on a couple of deck chairs. There’s an old man swim- ming incredibly short laps in the blue water.

  242 But our movement must draw attention to us, because soon Rick is coming our way. “Hey there, you guys,”he says, like we’re a gang of kids he knows or something. “Hey, man,”says Sebastian, standing up to fi st-bump Rick. Jade and I stand too, because it’s weird to be down low in a patio chair when Rick’s so tall above us. “Hi,”I say. But Jade doesn’t say anything. And when I look over at her, prompting her to just say hello, she has this wicked grin on her face. Before I can stop her, she shoots both arms out, full force, and pushes Rick right into the pool, clothes and all. He misses the lap swim- mer by a few inches and the old man gives him a dirty look. Rick is dumbstruck as he drags his wet head—and shirt and jeans and shoes—out of the pool. He’s completely soaked. Have you ever noticed that if you get mad while you’re wet, you just look cartoonish? Rick is fuming, which makes him look even sillier. Jade and I both crack up. I can’t help

  243 myself—he looks like a sorry, wet dog, which, if you think about it, isn’t a bad metaphor. “Not cool,”says Rick, shaking a dripping fi nger at Jade as he walks back to his lady- in-waiting. I wish they’d stay so I could hear what’s sure to be a disgruntled intern explanation, but the lady’s already gathering her purse and staring back at us like we’re punk kids. “I think we’ve offi cially ditched the grown- up vibe of this place,”I say. Jade laughs some more. Sebastian, however, is frowning. “Not cool,”he says, echoing Rick. I look at his brow, furrowed and serious. That lovely mouth that talks only about music and his upcoming sets. Those deep green eyes that drew me in the fi rst time I saw him, but that never seem to really see me. That fl oppy dark hair that probably takes a while to style, even though it’s meant to look unkempt and casual. And before I know it, my arms spring out too. Sebastian, with his tight jeans, his olive-green glasses, and his soft DJ hands, is in the pool. Jade screams in delight and we both start up again, cackling our heads off. That’s when a

  244 hotel manager comes over and asks us to leave—all of us. Outside on the street, Sebastian seems much smaller in his soaking-wet T-shirt, water drip- ping off his skinny jeans. But it’s his angry face that makes me fi nally see it: He doesn’t look like the guy for me at all. He storms off and hops on his Vespa, not even glancing back at me. I know it’s truly over now. And I think I don’t care. “There’s a great country bar right across the street,”says Jade. “Let’s go,”I say. And we link arms—dry arms—as we leave our all-wet summer fl ings behind. The bar across the street is covered in old wood, and there’s a small stage where a really old band is playing classic country tunes. There are mid- dle-aged people twirling around on the dance floor in high-heeled boots and high-waisted jeans (but not the trendy kind). It’s amazing. “I love this,”I say, settling onto a wooden stool beside Jade. I realize that if I had come

  245 here at the beginning of summer, I would have dismissed the music and the setting. But things are different now. I sigh out loud, and Jade looks at me sym- pathetically. “I’m sure Sebastian will get over it,”she says. “He was just mad that he has to go home and restyle his hair.”We both laugh. “It’s not Sebastian,”I say. And I look at the couples dancing, thinking back to the night Russ and I spun around to “Can’t Help Falling in Love.”Why have I been so stupid? “Russ the cowboy,”says Jade, following my eyes. I smile sheepishly at her. “Remember how you described your dream guy to me at the beginning of the summer?”asks Jade. “Sort of,”I say. “I know Russ doesn’t fi t that description.”“Actually, I was thinking he does,”she says. “You wanted someone who could introduce you to new music, make you playlists, and fi nd songs that you’ll always remember from this summer.”

  246 “You’re right,”I say. “He’s done all that.”“So what’s the issue?”she asks. “Go get your man.”“I tried,”I say. “He said no and left me in the dust—literally.”“Really?”asks Jade. “You told him you loved him?”“Well, not exactly,”I say. “I told him I was ready.”She gives me a skeptical look. “Ready for what?”she asks. “That’s what he asked,”I say. “And I said I was ready to date him.”Jade rolls her eyes. “Gee, Quinn,”she says. “You’re a regular poet. I can’t imagine why a guy wouldn’t be swept off his feet when you say those two magical words: ‘I’m ready.’”“Well, he knew what I meant!”I say, frowning. I slump over on the bar and stare at the carvings in the old wood. JW + ND, DON LOVES TAY, CLEM AND NELL 4-EVER. I pick my head up again. Everywhere I look, people are in love. “Let me borrow your phone,”says Jade. I reach into my jeans pocket and hand it to

  247 her. No one wants to hear me whine, I guess. I look back up at the band onstage as they fi nish their set and take a break. “Penny?”I hear Jade on the phone. “Yeah, Quinn needs you. We’re at the Continental Club on South Congress,”she says. “Bring Chrissy.”“. . . No, nothing life or death,”says Jade. “More like a heart intervention.”Through the phone, I hear my cousin’s high- pitched scream, which indicates some sort of over-the-top feeling—rage? Excitement? Who can tell? I haven’t quite decoded the sorority- shriek sound chart yet. Jade hangs up and hands my cell back to me. “Why did you call my cousin?”I ask. “Reinforcements,”she says. “You need a plan to get Russ, and who better to ask for help than two longtime friends of his?”I smile as
Jade tosses her long red hair over one shoulder. “You have to be willing to do whatever we come up with,”says Jade, narrowing her eyes at me. “Even if it’s embarrassing.”I nod my head. I’ve screwed things up

  248 enough on my own—it’ll be nice to have a team of love advisors. “Thanks,”I say. Twenty minutes later, two sorority screams echo in the chill retro bar, and all eyes turn to Chrissy and Penny, who is carrying Miss Tiara in a small brown-and-covered-with- logos purse. Penny races across the dance fl oor, weaving in between the befuddled couples to get to us. Chrissy is close behind. “What did that awful Sebastian do?!”my cousin snaps. “I am going to wring his scrawny little neck when I get ahold of him!”“It’s not Sebastian,”I say. “Yeah,”says Jade. “He’s kind of . . . um . . . out of the picture now. Right, Quinn?”I smile as I conjure up the image of the sopping-wet DJ. “Right,”I say. “What’s the deal then?”asks Chrissy. She looks like she might still be mad at me about the Russ stuff. “Well, obviously you know that Russ com- pletely rejected me the other day,”I say.

  249 “Quinn, Russ isn’t really a talker,”she says. “No, I didn’t know. But since Penny told me you were going out with Sebastian tonight, I fi gured your conversation with him didn’t go well.”“I told you what happened, right?”I look at Penny. I’m sure I communicated my angst after Russ left me on the road. “You mean when you came home yesterday and grunted at me before you put your head- phones on for the rest of the night?”asks Penny. Hmm . . . guess I’m not a huge communica- tor either. “Okay—so what is the deal?!”asks Penny, waving her hands at me to hurry up and spill it. I hesitate a minute too long, and Jade is off like a shot. As she recounts the story I told her about me saying “I’m ready,”I suddenly realize how dumb and conceited that sounds. “I’m really smooth,”I say sarcastically when Penny and Chrissy smile in pity at my misstep. “We can fi x this,”says Penny, going into action mode and taking a purple Sharpie pen out of her bag. Miss Tiara barks in affi rmation and

  250 the bartender raises an eyebrow. Chrissy fl ashes a smile (and pushes out her boobs), which makes him back off. Good thing too, because Penny is taking out her Tri-Pi notebook, spreading out across the bar, and starting to write. WIN HIS HEART: THE RUSS PLAN, she writes. “What’s this?”I ask. “Just wait,”she says. “Now comes the brain- storming. You didn’t know your old cousin was a boy genius.”“You’re a hyper-smart eleven-year-old boy?”asks Jade. “I mean a genius with guys,”says Penny, waving off Jade’s joke. “Now let’s get going.”Penny makes us write down romantic ideas—poetry, fl owers, music, dancing—and under each column, we have to come up with specifi cs that Russ likes. So Chrissy chimes in and tells us that he used to have a thing for Edgar Allan Poe, while I note that he mentioned bluebonnets once and that we’ve danced to “Can’t Help Falling in Love.”“But his favorite song is that ‘Waltz Across Texas’one,”says Chrissy. “He hums it con- stantly.”

  251 I grin. Then Penny adds “Sports”because she says that—to guys—that is romantic. And Chrissy suggests that I wear a UT cheerleading uniform while I carry out the activities (that’s the third part of the brainstorming session). Jade nixes that part so I don’t have to. Phew. By the time we fi nish, fi ve pages of the note- book are covered with doodles and dreams of romance, and I have a plan. “Are you ready?”asks Jade. “Have I not made it clear by now that I am?”I joke. “Took you long enough!”says Chrissy, smiling. Penny, Chrissy, and Jade reach in for a group hug, and suddenly I’m feeling like, no matter what Russ says, this is the Best. Summer. Ever.

  252 Chapter 23 After calling about ten florists, I realize that bluebonnets are hard to come by in July. As one lady put it, “That’s a spring flower, hon. How about a nice boo-kay of Knock Out roses?”So that’s what I got, and it turns out that Knock Out is their official name—they’re hearty, which seems suiting for Russ. They’re also pink, but hey, that made Penny happy. So I tie those up with a bow and include a little card that says, YOUR NEXT CLUE IS AT THE BADDEST-ASS FLAG EVER. He’ll fi nd my second message stuck into the corner of the case by the “Come and Take It”fl ag in the Four Seasons hotel lobby. That note says, SUPPER’S ON ME—THE BEST BBQ IN TOWN, OR SO YOU SAY. He’ll take off for Iron Works, where I have

  253 an order in for a plate of barbecue and a big pickle, along with slaw and hush puppies on the side, of course. On his tray, the owner promised to deliver note number three. That one’s the scariest. It’ll direct Russ to the Continental Club, where Chrissy and Penny managed to convince the band that was playing on our night of plotting to do a very, very big favor for us. All in the name of summer love. I’m standing in the corner of the Continental, staring at the clock. It’s getting close to eight P.M., which is the ETA for Russ. The plan was that he got the Knock Out roses at around six P.M., when Chrissy would pretend she heard the doorbell and they’d be lying on the welcome mat outside as Russ went to check it. She texted me a little after six, and the text just said, Russter is on the move. So he must’ve gotten to the Four Seasons by six-thirty or so, where Jade was waiting in dark glasses and a hat, lingering near the fl ag to be sure Russ found clue number two. Her text, sent at 6:42 said, The rooster has picked up his hen. Funny how this clue game is making everyone

  254 into weird code-talkers. That one made me laugh. Iron Works Barbecue is nearby, and Penny would be there, pretending to bump into Russ. Even though I hadn’t gotten a text from her by seven, I headed to the bar to wait. But now it’s close to eight, and she still hasn’t—beepbeepbeep Penny: He’s on his way. Phew. And no code talk. But then a second text comes in. Penny: He says it’s all or nothing. I have no idea what that means, but I can feel my heart beating in my throat as I wave at Tom the bartender. “Ready?”he asks. “Ten minutes,”I say. And I try to sound confi dent, but my voice shakes a little. Tom signals to the band, making a “10”with both hands. The lead singer, an older man with a white beard and a rough but perfect voice whom Tom calls “Pick-up Pete,”nods as they fi nish up their song. I lean back on the bar, glad I had my friends make sure Russ took each step of the bait. I also

  255 wanted them to supervise the earlier parts of this plan because I don’t want them at Location Four—here. I made them promise that they’d let Russ come alone. This is a one-time humiliation for a good cause. My heart. But I don’t want too many witnesses. Especially not a family member who can tell the story for ages. Pick-up Pete fi nishes one more song, and then announces that the band will take a quick break. He steps down off the stage, walking over to me. “You the singing girl?”he asks. “Yeah,”I say, still not sounding very solid. “And you know the words to this song,”he says, looking me up and down like he’s not so sure that a blue-haired girl wearing a Walters T-shirt and Converse sneaks can pull off the country classic we have lined up. “I do,”I say. It’s all I’ve listened to for the past three days as Penny and Chrissy and Jade helped me get the clues ready and this fi nal moment set up. “Well, then, where’s the fella?”asks Pick-up Pete. As if on cue, Russ walks in. Followed by Chrissy, Jade, and Penny.

  256 I glance down at my phone and reread the second text from my cousin. That’s what she meant by “all or nothing”—he wouldn’t come without them. Russ is getting his way again by bringing everyone here! And I start to fume, but then I look up at them, and I catch Russ’s eye. His smile grows a few inches, and I see he’s holding the fl owers. “I’m ready,”I say to Pick-up Pete. Then I take his arm and let him walk me up the steps to the stage. I shake hands with the band members, who eye me with kindness. Or is it pity? I don’t have time to think too much, because Pick-up Pete is already at the mike. “Ladies and Gents, we have a special treat tonight,”he says. “We’re going to perform an Ernest Tubbs classic with a very special song- bird.”He winks at me and I smile. I try to look out in the audience, but there are stage lights in my eyes, so I can’t see where Russ is. “Miss Quinn Parker would like to—”he starts. I tap him on the shoulder, interrupting, and

  257 I whisper in his ear. “Excu
se me,”he continues. “Miss Priscilla Quinn Parker would like to dedicate this song to one Mr. Russ Jay Barnes, who is the most amazing effi ng frat boy she’s ever met.”I hear laughter and a few hoots from the audience then, and the encouraging sounds buoy me to the mike. The band strikes up a slow beat, and I come in right on cue. “When we dance together, my world’s in disguise . . . “It’s a fairyland tale that’s come true . . .”My voice isn’t entirely melodic. Okay, it’s pretty awful. I’m not even on key. But I keep going, warbling about the stars in his eyes, how he takes away my heartaches and troubles. This is a song that I hadn’t even heard until Russ made it the closing song on his mix, but I am completely taken with it. Maybe it’s that feeling that’s car- rying me through this paltry vocal performance. When I end with “I could waltz across Texas with you . . .”I feel a tear run down my cheek. I hear the bar patrons clapping politely, probably not sure what to make of the subpar

  258 “songbird,”as Pick-up Pete called me. But then I hear the applause growing. It’s getting louder and louder and I hold my hand out in front of my face to block the spotlights so I can see what’s going on. Just then, I feel the wind under me as Russ lifts me up in his arms, twirling me around once and then setting me down, back on the stage. I don’t even care that there are two dozen people watching—including my cousin. I lean in to meet Russ’s amazing lips. And we have the best freaking kiss this stage has ever seen. When my eyes and ears refocus as we part, I hear more cheers and hoots, and I suddenly remember to be a little embarrassed. I give a shy wave as Russ leads me down the stage stairs. I don’t even say good-bye to Penny or Jade or Chrissy as he pulls my hand and we dash outside. “Leave your car,”he says. My cheeks fl ush again as I hop into his truck, more lovestruck than I ever knew I could be.