The Sound

by Sarah Alderson

  I pull my sweaty dress away from my body, suddenly unsure about taking off my clothes and revealing my pale (paler even than Paige’s), un-model-like English body. In my head, I hear Megan shouting at me that I have a hot body and I shouldn’t give a shit what any bitchface girls say.

  I’m a size ten to twelve with normal-sized boobs – not ginormous, but not flat either. I have an average body with curves that, according to Will, are sexy. Though, clearly, I remind myself, not that sexy because Bex is as flat as a pancake and he’d rather go out with her. I glance at Sophie. She is short and not as skinny as the other three but her boobs are quite enormous which I imagine makes her exceedingly popular with the boys.

  Summer and Paige run laughing to the water as though they’re starring in an advert for suntan lotion, or a Justin Bieber music video, and I watch the four boys pause to stare after them like lobotomised zombies. The Frisbee drops into the sand by Parker’s foot and he doesn’t even notice. While the boys are distracted by the girls and the girls are distracted by distracting the boys, I take the opportunity to pull off my T-shirt and shimmy out of my shorts. Then I drop to the sand, lie on my back and rest on my elbows. I suck in my tummy and glance sideways. As I guessed, Eliza is staring straight at me, though I can’t read her expression, but her mouth is puckered and it looks like she just downed a shot of tequila, worm and all, and is now sucking on the lime.

  I smile and she goes back to reading her magazine.

  ‘Do you want some sunscreen?’ Sophie asks me.

  ‘Thanks,’ I say, taking the tube from her hand and sitting up again. I start slathering it on my pink thighs and as I’m rubbing it in a shadow falls over me.

  ‘Hey.’

  I glance up.

  It’s Jeremy. He’s smiling down at me. ‘You came,’ he says. ‘You made it on the bike?’

  I shoot Eliza a glance. Did she tell him I fell off?

  ‘Are you OK?’

  ‘I’m fine. It was just a scrape.’

  ‘No, I mean with Miller. He didn’t cause any trouble?’

  ‘No, I was only hiring a bike.’

  He sits down beside me and I root inside my bag for my sunglasses, hyper self-conscious in my bikini. I put on my glasses – as if they can mask my cellulite as well as my eyes. Then I roll over onto my stomach, leaning up on my arms. My arse is on full view but it’s about the only part of my body I’m currently happy with.

  ‘It’s just Jesse Miller has something of a reputation,’ Jeremy says, and I swear I see his eyes dip to my arse for just a second which is gleefully gratifying.

  ‘I heard,’ I say, glancing over my shoulder at Tyler.

  ‘Jesse Miller’s the kind of guy you want to stay well away from.’

  I turn back to Jeremy. He’s scowling at the sand. ‘He has a pretty bad temper if you get on his bad side.’

  ‘I’m not planning on getting on his bad side.’ Though I can’t help wondering what he’ll do to me if I damage his bike. From the sounds of it nothing pleasant. Maybe I’ll have Mike come with me when I do return it.

  ‘Sorry about ditching early last night,’ Jeremy says, interrupting my thoughts. ‘I had to do something.’

  ‘No problem,’ I say. Then, ‘Did it all work out, whatever it was you were doing?’ I know I sound like I am prying but that’s because I am.

  Jeremy shakes his head, his foot kicking the sand. ‘Not really.’ But he doesn’t elaborate. ‘Do you want me to put some sunscreen on your back?’ he asks instead.

  ‘Um, OK,’ I say. I pull my hair to one side and he starts rubbing the cream between my shoulder blades. When his fingers slide under the strap of my bikini top I can’t help it – my back arches. I am aware, even though my eyes are scrunched shut, that Sophie and Eliza are staring because Eliza’s death stare is hotter than the sun’s rays and no suncream on earth could deflect it.

  ‘There, all done,’ Jeremy says, flipping onto his front and tossing the suncream into the sand. ‘So, did you manage to write that blog post?’

  I stare at him, blinking a little in surprise. He remembered what I told him last night about having a blog . . . boys never remember that sort of thing (in my limited experience).

  ‘Because,’ he continues, with a half-cheeky smile that makes my stomach flip, ‘I checked, and you hadn’t posted anything new. And you know, I was up all night wondering about the links between Lady Gaga and Madonna. You need to put me out of my misery.’

  I smile back at him and shake my head. ‘No. I didn’t have time. I fell asleep last night and then Brodie woke me up this morning at five something.’

  He winces. ‘By puking on you?’

  ‘No. But she did ask if I was a skanktron.’

  ‘What?’ Jeremy splutters.

  ‘Yeah, you heard right. She asked if I’d gone past first base with—’ I stop, blushing hard.

  When I dart a glance in Jeremy’s direction he’s grinning. ‘With me?’

  ‘Er, yeah,’ I say, glaring at the sand, ‘and with Matt.’ I shrug. ‘She’s four. She has a colourful and slightly disturbed imagination.’

  ‘Who does?’

  I look up, having to crane my neck. Someone’s blocking the sun.

  I twist around and sit up, hugging my knees. ‘Oh, just the little girl I’m looking after.’

  ‘You must be Ren,’ he says. ‘I’m Tyler Reed.’ He holds out his hand.

  I take it, holding up my other hand to shield my eyes.

  He stays standing, backlit by the sun so I can’t get a really good look at him. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you,’ he says.

  I wonder straightaway, who from? Eliza or Jeremy? And what have they said about me? I’m about to open my mouth to say, ‘Likewise,’ but then I remember that what I’ve heard involves him being beaten up so badly he ended up in the hospital and he probably doesn’t need to know that I know that or be reminded of it, so I just smile at him goofily like someone of below average intelligence.

  ‘You coming this evening?’ he asks. ‘My parents are having a little gathering – I imagine the Tripps have been invited.’

  ‘I’m not sure. I’ll need to see,’ I say.

  ‘Cool,’ he says, then he turns to Jeremy. ‘You coming to play or not?’

  Jeremy gets slowly to his feet. ‘Yeah.’ He glances down at me. ‘Catch you later,’ he says and jogs off after Tyler.

  ‘Did you and Tyler hook up last night?’

  I look up. Summer and Paige are back from their swim. It’s Paige who’s posed the question of Eliza. Eliza makes a dismissive tutting sound and keeps reading her magazine.

  ‘What?’ Paige says. ‘It looked like you were about to bone him right there and then.’

  Eliza slams down her magazine. ‘Shut up, bitchface.’

  My head swivels to keep pace. Is this the same as back home where Megan and I trade insults to demonstrate our affection or is this something more? It’s hard to tell – Eliza doesn’t seem to know how to demonstrate affection so I’m leaning towards the something more theory.

  Paige ignores her and sits down on her towel, arranging her hair under her hat. Summer drops down beside her and proceeds to oil herself so liberally that she gleams like a basted turkey.

  ‘Eliza’s perfecting her Ice Queen routine,’ Summer laughs, trying to break the tension.

  ‘Better than perfecting a skanky ho routine,’ Eliza snaps back, looking in Paige’s direction.

  Paige laughs it off but I can tell from the evil look she gives Eliza that she didn’t find the comment funny. These girls play mean. Sophie’s the only one who seems genuinely nice.

  ‘Tyler’s the biggest player on the whole East Coast,’ Eliza adds. ‘As if I’d get with that.’ She rolls onto her back and wriggles her hips into the sand. ‘And anyway, I don’t do sloppy seconds.’

  Paige narrows her eyes at Eliza as though she can shoot laser beams from them. I can only imagine that she must have hooked up with Tyler at some point in the past. I stare down the beach at Ty
ler and Jeremy. Tyler is a player. That’s not hard to imagine. But is Jeremy one too? Has he hooked up with any of these girls? And what exactly is hooking up? What does it constitute? Are we talking snogging or shagging here? I close my eyes and let the sun warm my skin and ask myself why I even care.

  10

  Half an hour later it’s like the episode of Gossip Girl I’ve been inhabiting for the last three days has been taken over by the writers of The Killing or CSI Miami. Sophie is standing next to me by the water’s edge. She’s led me on a walk down the beach to show me something cool.

  ‘And this is where they found her,’ she says, pointing.

  I stare at the sand, the water lapping it as though trying to wash away any last traces of blood that might remain, even though it was over a year ago since it happened.

  ‘Here, here?’ I ask.

  ‘Yeah,’ Sophie says, nodding. ‘This is where they found her body.’

  I continue to stare at the sand.

  ‘She was murdered?’

  ‘Yes,’ Sophie answers.

  ‘Did they find out who did it?’

  She shakes her head once. ‘No.’

  I swallow the lump of freakout that’s wedged in my throat.

  ‘She was some girl who was nannying – she was just here for the summer.’

  At first I think Sophie is joking. ‘Ahahahahaha,’ I say to her.

  Then I see the expression on her face is totally serious and I stop laughing. She’s staring with great sympathy at the sand. Oh great, I think to myself, as the lump of freakout gets exponentially bigger.

  Sophie looks up startled then, her hand flying to her mouth. ‘Oh sorry! I mean, like, I don’t think there’s a serial killer or anything going around the island killing nannies for entertainment.’

  ‘But maybe for some sick, twisted other agenda.’

  I almost jump out of my skin. Matt has come up behind us. He wraps his arms around Sophie’s waist. She bonks him on the arm. ‘Matt!’

  He bites her neck.

  ‘Get off me!’ she screams but she’s giggling.

  I shift awkwardly and step backwards. It feels wrong to be gossiping, giggling and kissing on the spot where a poor dead girl was found floating face down in the surf. But the thought reminds me of what Brodie told me when I first arrived about the Sound and people dying there all the time. I stare at the ocean for a while before turning back to Sophie.

  ‘How did she die?’ I ask.

  ‘She was strangled,’ Matt answers, his hands snaking around Sophie’s neck and play-squeezing. She pushes him off, still laughing.

  ‘God, that’s awful,’ I say, my hands wrapping instinctively around my own neck.

  We start trudging back across the sand towards the others. This part of the beach is almost deserted, as if out of some unspoken rule amongst beach-goers to leave any ghost undisturbed. Sand dunes roll away in the distance and it’s fringed with thick woods. I shiver despite the sun beating down on me. It’s a lonely place to die. I wish Sophie hadn’t taken me there. I don’t want to disturb ghosts. I glance ahead at the packed beach – children digging castles in the sand, people slathering on sunscreen and messing around with boogie boards in the waves. It’s hard to reconcile this whole scene with the image that’s now in my head of Nantucket: Murder Central.

  I can’t wait to tell Megan.

  As we get closer to the others I see that Eliza is now standing talking to Tyler. Her breasts are having their own conversation with him, one hand rests on her jutting hip bone and the other plays with a loose lock of hair.

  ‘What’s the deal with Tyler and Eliza?’ I ask.

  Sophie looks at me and gets that sparkle in her eye which I’m learning signifies she’s about to gossip download. It’s like she’s an android or something and I can see the panel lighting on her retinal scanner. I note Matt rolls his own eyes and detaches as she launches in – ‘Well,’ she begins, ‘he hooked up with Paige last summer after she broke up with Parker, but he also hooked up with half the island last summer – he’s hardly into exclusive dating, if you know what I mean.’

  Do I know what she means? Hell yes. Isn’t she describing most of the male population of earth?

  ‘I think Eliza’s trying to see if she can tame him. You know? It’s kind of funny to watch.’

  I glance at Matt.He doesn’t say anything even though it’s his sister and his friend that Sophie is talking about. He is frowning however and then, without warning he takes off. ‘I’ll catch you later,’ he says over his shoulder, running down the beach towards the boys.

  Sophie shrugs and then links her arm through mine. I’m not sure why Sophie has taken it upon herself to adopt me and be nice to me but I am grateful and I lean into her to show her that I appreciate how nice she is being.

  ‘And you and Matt?’ I ask, hoping that we’re now officially friends enough for me to ask this question.

  She giggles, but I can see the warmth in the smile on her face. ‘Oh, you know,’ she says. ‘We’re just having fun. I’m going to college in the fall. So’s he. This is like, just casual, you know?’

  I eye her sideways. Unless I’m mistaken – which I’m usually not on these things – Sophie likes Matt more than she’s letting on. Way more.

  ‘He’s nice,’ I say.

  ‘Yeah,’ she answers. ‘He’s different to the others.’

  I suppress the cynic in me that wants to tell her they’re all the same and not to trust a single one of them as far as you can throw them because as soon as someone with bigger boobs comes along they’re off but then I realise that maxim might not hold entirely true. I mean, Bex had smaller boobs than me, and I can’t imagine anyone with bigger boobs than Sophie. I sigh. What do I know about men or boobs?

  ‘And Jeremy?’ she asks. The android light pings as she readies herself for gossip input.

  I aim for innocence. ‘Jeremy?’ I ask.

  She nudges me with her elbow. ‘I saw you guys. Did you hook up the other night?’

  ‘No!’ I say.

  ‘Why not? He’s hot,’ Sophie says.

  ‘Yeah, I guess,’ I say. I can’t exactly claim he’s not because the guy she’s dating is practically his identical twin.

  ‘I think he’s into you,’ Sophie says.

  My feet start to drag in the sand as we get within hearing distance of the others. ‘Did he say something?’ I ask.

  ‘No, but just from the way he’s been hanging out with you, taking you to the party and talking to you. Normally he doesn’t make an effort with girls. They kind of do all the work – if you know what I mean.’

  That’s interesting. I realise that I’m staring at the very person we’re talking about as he jogs down the beach, wades into the shallows and then dives into a huge wave.

  ‘He isn’t dating anyone?’ I ask.

  ‘No. He’s hooked up with Summer one time I think and maybe a few local girls – they put out way more: total skanks. But last summer he was dating this college girl. Total cougar. He got major props.’

  It’s getting hard to keep up with who has been with whom. It might almost be easier to focus on who hasn’t been with whom. My eyes graze the surface of the ocean and spot Jeremy surfacing now, throwing his arms back and shaking the water out of his hair, and I have to admit I’m definitely starting to find him more attractive and that has nothing to do with the fact that the water is dripping in rivulets down his rather toned pecs.

  As we sit down on our towels again I get my first proper look at Tyler who is standing about ten metres away with Eliza. It looks like he’s trying to entice her to play Frisbee and she’s not up for it. He’s in profile and I register that he has a scar underneath his eye running up to his temple. He looks a bit like Robert Pattinson – if you genetically spliced him with Buzz Lightyear. He has dark, quiffy hair and wide-spaced eyes, though his skin is tanned as opposed to diamond sparkly white. He has a very square jaw with a dimple in the centre of his chin but alas no jet pack. I note that his ey
ebrow is cocked and the smile on his face is half sneer, half smirk as if he’s laughing at Eliza but she doesn’t seem to realise.

  I shake my head. I’m making a lot of assumptions here and the only two that I can safely claim are true are the ones about him being neither a vampire nor a space ranger.

  ‘So what was the fight about?’ I ask quietly to Sophie.

  ‘You mean between Jesse and Tyler?’

  ‘Yeah,’ I say, not taking my eyes off Tyler. He’s a tall guy and well-built. If I was going to beat someone up I would choose someone a little more weedy to pick on, to increase my chances of actually winning. But then again, I think, remembering Jesse – he wasn’t exactly puny-looking either. Rather the opposite. His back and shoulders were solid muscle and his abs were definitely not painted on by any make-up artist.

  ‘Jesse just turned up to this party we were having at the Reeds’,’ Sophie says. She looks at me and lowers her sunglasses down her nose. ‘You have to understand that locals – islanders – don’t ever get an invite to parties like that. Anyway,’ she continues in a rush, ‘he burst in on us, marched over to Tyler and next thing he’s beating the crap out of him. I mean, like right in front of me.’ She pulls a face that expresses enough horror that I realise she isn’t embellishing this particular story. ‘It took three of the guys to haul Jesse off and when they did Tyler was unconscious, and his face was completely messed up.’ She shakes her head, her nose wrinkling, then says more quietly. ‘Jesse’s just lucky the police turned up when they did because serious to God he would have been killed otherwise. The guys started laying into him. It was completely crazy. All the girls were screaming and crying and Tyler’s lying there unconscious and the guys are now beating the hell out of Jesse. It was actually Matt who pulled them off him.’