The Big Summer

by Jamie B Laurie

  The man taking their orders behind the counter seemed completely overwhelmed, starting to pull the lever on the ice-cream (sorry, frozen yogurt) machine only to have the mother stop him and ask for something completely different because the screaming gremlins had demanded something else entirely.

  Eventually, noticing me, the man hastily called over his shoulder for backup with the urgency of a SWAT officer dealing with a majorly intense hostage situation.

  The door to the back of the store swung open, and a pile of cardboard boxes walked in … or, rather, someone carrying a pile of cardboard boxes came in.

  The box-carrier set these down by the door and wiped his hands on his jeans, adjusted his blue apron, and tilted his ice-cream-man-style (frozen-yogurt-man-style) hat to the proper angle, all before turning to face me.

  I tried to keep my mouth from dropping too far open. I took in the tussled hair, adorable freckles, and lovely smile … holy shit! The boy behind the counter was the walking-wet-dream from the beach. With my luck, I should have been buying lottery tickets by the barrel.

  “Hey,” the boy said, squinting. “I saw you the other day at the beach, right?”

  I paused for a moment, glitching as I replied, “Oh, um, yeah, that was me.”

  “Cool,” the boy said with a giant smile. The smile dimpled his cheeks (oh my God) and crinkled the corners of his blue-gray eyes. “What can I get you?”

  “Um, a small chocolate cone?” I asked.

  “Sure,” he said, eyes twinkling. I glanced around, anywhere but directly at him. My gaze settled on a small sign that warned customers to check with their servers about allergens that could be present in the frozen yogurt.

  “Oh, do you have any allergies?” he asked.

  “Cats,” I replied automatically.

  The boy’s eyes sparkled as he laughed. “I don’t think we use cats in our frozen yogurt. I can check if you’d like.”

  “No,” I told him, cracking a smile. “I believe you.”

  He went over to the machine, grabbed a cone, and, with an expertise I had always wondered at, began the delicate art of crafting a perfect swirl of frozen yogurt that peaked with a little hook.

  “There you are,” he told me, handing me the cone, and our fingers brushed. I’m pretty sure I imagined the tickle of electricity that raced up my arm from the point of contact, because that only happens in horrible, cheesy, paranormal romance novels. “That’s three dollars and forty-three cents, please.”

  “Thanks,” I told him, handing him some money. He counted out the change, and I fumbled to take it.

  “No problem.”

  I stood there for a few seconds … which turned into more than a few seconds. I willed a conversation to bloom, at the same time dreading it.

  My brain tried to get my legs to move. Instead, I ended up saying, “Thanks.”

  The boy smiled even wider. “No problem.”

  My feet did an awkward shuffle as they tried to take me away.

  “Hey,” the boy behind the counter said, tilting his head, “you’re new to town, aren’t you?”

  “I am.”

  “Well,” he said, “on behalf of Frosty’s … and myself, welcome to Seaside City.”

  I nodded a few times, searching for my words. They seemed to have gotten lost somewhere between my brain and mouth. You are extremely attractive and seem really sweet, and it would be awesome if you played for my team, so let’s make this happen, I wanted to say. But all I managed was a gargle of sound that erupted from my throat before I sprinted away.

  Chapter 8

  Katie Applegate: Man-Eater

  For the first time since I had arrived in Seaside City, I was actually going to spend a day at the beach. Although, I think the word “beach” here needs to be redefined.

  The word brings to mind images of lovely white sand, finer than flour, gently meeting the aquamarine water. There are some palm trees, curving slightly. Perhaps a small table is set up with those gorgeously colorful fruity-drinky-thingies with the umbrellas and pineapple wedges. It’s the kind of stuff you see as computer desktop backgrounds or in commercials for Hepatitis vaccinations.

  However, the Seaside City beach was far from that. It was crowded and loud, and the sand was littered with so many bits of shattered shells that you had to waltz around them. Children ran screaming, dragging boogie boards behind them, and kicking up sand. The water was clogged with people, and the waves weren’t gentle or serene but rather violent as they climbed up the beach, flooding sandcastles and prompting even louder screaming.

  Still, this was what I had come to Seaside City for. I could have set The Big Summer in small-town Ohio or the far north of Canada … the whole point was to find a place to reinvent myself. But it was summer, so why not take advantage of the warm weather?

  My first day at the beach also marked the first time I would meet the whole gang—that’s to say, Hannah’s group of friends that had been friends for a long time and that I was now joining as the not-yet-friends friend. No pressure.

  When I arrived with Hannah, I was hit right away in the nose with the heavy stench of saltwater, the pungent aroma coming from the rotting hunks of seaweed that dotted the shore, and the odor of sunscreen. Nostrils aquiver, I was also presented with the stressful claustrophobia of so many sweaty beachgoers packed in together.

  Hannah led the way, zigzagging between umbrellas and folding chairs, sidestepping coolers and hopping over tanners. And just like that, she had navigated us to the spot her other friends had already claimed as their own. It was a nice patch of sand, intimately small. Hannah’s friends were fending off two different people eagerly itching to encroach on our land.

  “We’re here!” Hannah exclaimed, overly excited. The two beachgoers made sour faces and cursed us as they retreated to their own cramped quarters.

  “About time,” Emma said. She got up from where she had been lying on her stomach, tanning, and gave Hannah a hug.

  “Hey, Emma,” I said, with an awkward wave of the hand.

  “Hey!” she shouted, smiling hugely. Before I could stop her, she had enveloped me in a tight hug. As her bikini-clad breasts pressed into me, I was grateful to be gay. My bathing suit wouldn’t have left much to the imagination otherwise.

  When she released me, I noticed that a red flush had sprung to her olive cheeks. She nibbled coquettishly on her lower lip. And though I’m no expert on romance, and I had never been pursued by anyone … like, come on! I’m not blind. And it was making me super uncomfortable.

  “Guys, this is Will,” Emma said, introducing me as though we’d been friends forever.

  There were two boys lying on towels next to Emma’s, wearing board shorts and sunglasses. And they were both totally ripped, of course, because everyone on this stupid beach just had to look like they’d just gotten back from the gym, or else look like versions of Mr. Sabatini. And then there was me, skinny, pale, and unfit.

  The guys picked themselves up off the ground and came over to say hello. One of them was taller and broader, with wide shoulders and a built torso and arms. The other was shorter and slimmer, leanly muscular. But nonetheless they looked similar, with handsome faces and dark, messy hair.

  “Nice to meet you, bro,” said the taller boy. He stuck out his hand, and I shook it, watching the muscles swell in his arm. “Blake Jackson.”

  “Hi, I’m Will O’Connor.”

  The smaller boy shook my hand. “I’m this dipshit’s brother.”

  “Little brother,” Hannah scoffed from behind me. “A whole fifteen years old.”

  “I’m almost sixteen,” the boy protested. He turned back to me. “Anyways, I’m Michael.”

  I laughed. “Jackson?”

  “No relation, I promise. Believe me, I’ve checked.”

  Hannah was shaking out a towel, and she spread it out next to Emma. From t
he corner of my eye, I noticed a thin scar running vertically along the skin of her stomach. A question formed on my lips, but Emma stopped me before I could ask it.

  “Put your towel next to mine, Will,” she said. “Blake, move over so he has room. I want to chat with him.”

  “Why don’t you chat a bit with me?” Blake asked. He turned on his side, pulled up his sunglasses, and waggled his eyebrows.

  “Because,” she sniffed, “I’d like to talk about more than football season and the number of reps you did at the gym this week.”

  “I can talk about other stuff too!” Blake protested.

  “That’s something I would pay to see,” Emma replied with a laugh.

  Blake groaned and kneed Michael in the side, and the two grumbled as they shifted over a little to leave some space for me to slide in. I put down my towel and kicked off my flip-flops but left my shirt on as I stretched out on my stomach.

  “Sorry,” I whispered to Blake as I was settling in.

  He mumbled, “S’okay … not your fault.”

  “So,” Emma said, setting the ball rolling on a conversation I was sure would be both uncomfortable and vaguely creepy. She shoved me playfully on the arm. “What’s new?”

  “You mean, since we talked yesterday?”

  Emma laughed. “You’re so funny.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Um, so tell me about where you’re from. Do you have like a girlfriend or anything?”

  “Nope.”

  “Oh,” she commented, feigning disinterest.

  Hannah cut in. “Hey, Will, why don’t you tell Emma about your totally dreamy friends at home?”

  “Wha—oh yeah! Um, yeah. I’ve got some really … cool friends back home. Takes them a while to, uh, warm up to people, I guess you could say, but yeah. Not the sharpest knives in the drawer, but you know … And they’re good-looking … I mean, I guess. Hannah?”

  “They’re super hunky, Em. And I bet Will could set you up, if you wanted.”

  “Totally,” I agreed.

  “If I wanted a relationship with a gorgeous knucklehead, I wouldn’t have to look far,” Emma said, glancing over at Blake.

  Blake propped himself up on an elbow and smiled at her. “You certainly wouldn’t.”

  “Don’t get your hopes up, buddy.”

  “What’s your problem, Emma?” Blake asked, sounding hurt. “Why won’t you give me a chance?”

  Emma put a hand on my arm and rolled her eyes at me. She whispered, “He’s liked me for, like, ever.”

  Blake stood up suddenly and spread his arms out, “What is it you want, Emma?”

  “Huh?” she asked, looking up at him.

  He flexed his impressive bicep. “I know this doesn’t work on you. So what would? Tell me. What can I do?”

  Emma tittered. “Why don’t you try quoting Shakespe—”

  “‘Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate.’ You see? I can read, you know.”

  Emma’s smile fell. “Okay.”

  Blake tugged a hand through his hair and laughed frustratedly, lying back down. “Whatever.”

  “Oh my God,” Michael said. “I so don’t know you, bro. I swear, everyone, I’ve never seen this guy before in my life.”

  We sat in silence for a few minutes. The tension was palpable, and I didn’t move at all. I was the pickle in the middle of a sexual tension sandwich.

  “So, Blake,” Hannah said. “Where’s my dear brother, Daniel?”

  “Working.”

  “Seriously? He’s been back in town since Friday, and it feels like I’ve only seen him for five minutes.”

  “How do you think I feel?” Blake asked. “The guy’s just my best friend, and I’ve barely gotten a hello. In my professional opinion, he’s gotta take a chill pill.”

  “Right?” Hannah answered. “But you know Daniel. He always has to put 300 percent effort into every single thing he does. Work, work, work.”

  “Yeah! Like, he spends his whole year studying at that fancy school in New York,” Blake agreed. “And when he comes home, he’s at his job all the time.”

  “He’s no doubt putting it all away for a rainy day or college or something.” Hannah chuckled. Then, softly and conspiratorially, she said, “Do you know if he’s seen her yet?”

  “I thought she ended it,” Michael chimed in. “They had that huge fight at the end of last summer.”

  “Um, who are we talking about?” I said embarrassedly.

  The other four sat up all at once, excitedly. It appeared as though the magical properties to my lovely speaking voice had perked them up.

  “Ooh, can I tell the story?” Michael asked excitedly.

  “Please,” Hannah said, waving him away. “Did you spend any time in the womb with Daniel? I didn’t think so. I’ll handle the woeful tale of my brother’s love life.”

  “Here we go,” Emma said with a sigh.

  “Okay, so it all begin when my family moved here in fifth grade,” she said. “The Clark twins quickly made some very questionable friends, named Emma and Blake. Oh, and Blake’s annoying little pipsqueak brother.”

  “Hey!” Michael protested.

  Hannah shrugged. “I cannot tell a lie.”

  “Keep going,” Emma demanded. She turned to me. “The best part is coming.”

  “My brother, Daniel, was unfairly cursed,” Hannah told us, pretending to wipe away a tear. “He was destined to meet Katie Applegate.”

  “Boo! Hiss!” Emma offered.

  “The Applegates are the richest of Seaside City’s few rich, and Katie was … and is … a spoiled princess, happy to live out the rest of her horrid days off of Daddy’s money. And the little she-devil had set her sights on my brother. The rest is history. They’re together, she breaks it off, he’s sad, she wants him back, he goes back, they’re together … rinse and repeat.”

  “That’s awful,” I told them.

  Blake nodded. “We try telling him. Every time. How many times has it been?”

  “I think Michael was in diapers when the whole affair started,” Emma mused.

  “Not funny,” Michael told her.

  “Very funny,” she told him.

  Hannah didn’t seem to be listening to their exchange. She was talking directly to me. “I’ve tried talking to him, but he doesn’t want to hear it. I just don’t understand. My brother, for all his smartness and annoyingly numerous achievements, is also the most amazing human being I know, and he’s with her. She’s bad, Will. She’s bad for him.”

  “Speak of the devil,” Emma groaned.

  Hannah rolled her eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  Turning around, it wasn’t hard to see who they were talking about. Not even the choking crowd on the beach could hide this girl.

  Katie was as radiant as a flame, the sun setting her blonde hair alight and twinkling on her sunglasses. She was dressed for the runway, in trendy shorts and a flowing, gauzy top. A heavy gold necklace hung from her throat. She carried herself with a sense of overconfidence and total importance. And when she finally stopped in front of our group, I realized my mouth was hanging open.

  With a hand on her hip, she sighed. “Hello, everyone.”

  “Katie, darling, it’s been too long,” Hannah trilled, feigning enthusiasm but making no move to stand up in greeting. Emma laughed quietly, covering her mouth with her hand. I looked over at the Jackson brothers and noted the lustful glaze of their eyes. Despite all preconceived notions of Katie, they had fallen under her spell.

  “Yeah, well I’ve been so busy with school. My flight got in very late last night.” Katie yawned. “You public school kids have it so easy. Saint Anne’s is so demanding. That’s the price you pay for a top-notch education, I suppose.”

  “You are so right.�
�� Hannah laughed artificially.

  Katie turned her attention to Blake, as if noticing him for the first time. “How’s it going, Blake?”

  “Oh, um … it’s going,” he chuckled. I noticed the way he repositioned himself and how his muscles rippled every few seconds as he flexed for her.

  “I can see that,” she said, looking him up and down. “You’re looking good, Blake. Really good. But of course, you always have.”

  “Yeah?” he asked, grinning stupidly. “You think so?”

  She smiled and giggled, turning to Blake’s brother. “And little Michael. It looks like you’ve finally hit puberty, huh? You’re shaping up to be just like your big brother.”

  “Thanks.” Michael laughed, as if her joke was entirely good-natured.

  “Okay, putting the vaguely pedophilic comments you’ve just made aside,” Hannah said, shuddering, “you seem to be man-hunting an awful lot for someone who’s in a relationship … with my twin brother.”

  “Speaking of your deliciously sexy brother, where is he?” Katie asked, looking around suspiciously as though Daniel might be hiding under the sand.

  “First of all … ew,” Hannah said, cringing. “And as for where my brother is, I would totally tell you if I knew.”

  “Oh, that’s a shame,” Katie muttered, her eyes darting back to the Jackson boys.

  “You’re not doing such a great job as his girlfriend if you’ve lost him already,” Emma teased.

  “Very funny,” Katie countered before sighing. “Well, this has been fun, catching up and everything.”

  “A total blast,” Hannah said.

  As Katie was turning to leave, her eyes fell on me. She stopped and frowned. “Hannah, how rude of you! You didn’t introduce me to your new friend.”

  “I’m Will,” I told her.

  She flashed a brilliant smile. “Katie Applegate.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  “Likewise.”

  Hannah cut in. “Don’t you have a boyfriend to find?”

  Katie laughed, rolling her eyes. “I totally forgot about that. I’ll give Daniel your regards, Hannah. Bye, everyone.”