Now I couldn’t even tell what she was saying to the other girls. The topic had better be boarding. It had better not be dumping me for the next Vader brother on her list.
Or for Parker Buchanan. As if it weren’t enough for my brothers to talk to Lori when I couldn’t, Parker roared past in a ski boat with some of his rich, spoiled friends from Birmingham. His grandparents owned the snooty private yacht club a few miles downriver. Our marina had banded with the others to host the festival on the lake yesterday, but the yacht club topped us all every year by putting on an enormous Fourth of July fireworks show over the lake.
I’d known Parker for a while. He showed up to our parties sometimes, and rumor had it he was blazing a trail through the ladies. He had dark hair and dark eyes and a habit of staring through people with his eyeballs wide open and unblinking like an owl. Girls thought this was sexy. They said it was like he could see right through them into their souls. I thought it was one of the first signs of hyper-thyroidism, but I kept it to myself.
I had no reason to dislike him. I’d never considered him a threat before. Usually he water-skied on the yacht club side of the lake. Usually he didn’t venture this far from home. Usually he didn’t slalom through our wakeboarding course while waving to my girlfriend. Usually she did not wave back. There was a first time for everything—everything awful, that is—and every bit of it was happening to me today.
Finally it was my turn to board. Parker disappeared around the bend. I had nobody left to take out my aggression on but my brothers. Instead of buckling on my board in the boat and flipping backward over the side like a scuba diver, as I normally would have, I waited for Cameron to crawl out of the water onto the deck in back. I pretended to slip while getting in, and I shoved him with my shoulder.
“Oh, man, you have pushed the wrong brother,” he told me. I thought this was more of a jab at Sean than at me. I’d whipped Sean a couple of times recently.
Then Cameron pushed me so hard, my board slid all the way across the deck, and I smacked into the water on my ear.
I shook off the pain underwater and surfaced. Now Lori watched me from her boat. She was waiting for me to come up, either because she was concerned or because she was simply paying attention to me at the precise moment I didn’t want it. She gave me a thumbs-up.
“Sunglasses.” McGillicuddy stretched his open hand toward me.
“I won’t lose them,” I said. If I’d managed to keep them on during that dramatic entrance, they weren’t in danger of falling off.
“Right,” Cameron said. “You never lose them.”
“Adam’s sunglasses are piled up like buried treasure on the bottom of the lake,” Lori giggled as her boat prowled slowly by ours, headed for shore. All three girls waved to us like beauty queens on a parade float. They must have been done for the day.
Her boat sped up then. Over her motor, McGillicuddy and Sean must not have heard Cameron murmur, “Talk about buried treasure,” still looking straight at Lori.
I kicked off my board, pushed it ahead of me, and caught our boat in five strokes, just as McGillicuddy started the engine. All three of the guys snapped their heads in my direction in surprise as I pitched my board into the boat and pulled myself dripping over the side. Then I punched Cameron in the jaw.
It would have connected if I hadn’t been wet and Cameron hadn’t slathered himself in sunscreen. As it was, my fist slipped right off his face. I lost my balance and fell on the floor of the boat. Then he was on top of me, and I knew I was in trouble. But when he tried to pin my arms behind me, his hands slid right off too.
Before he could come after me again, a second set of flip-flops approached my nose and scuffled with Cameron’s pair. McGillicuddy was pulling Cameron off me. And then Sean caught me in a headlock.
“We’re taking impulsive to a new level, aren’t we?” Sean shouted in my ear, over the noise of the motor.
“He called Lori buried treasure!” I meant this for McGillicuddy. Since Sean held my head down, I had to yell as loudly as I could. “Cameron was looking at Lori and he said, ‘Talk about buried treasure!’”
“You did?” I heard McGillicuddy say. All I could see was the boat’s carpet. I could only imagine the look on his face.
“I wasn’t talking about her!” Cameron bellowed.
“Then who the hell were you talking about?” Sean shrieked.
Sean had a point, for once. Cameron had been talking about my girlfriend and McGillicuddy’s sister, or McGillicuddy’s girlfriend, or Sean’s ex-girlfriend, who Sean was very touchy about. There was nobody else in the girls’ boat. The four of us guys used to comment on girls we saw drive by on the lake (with Lori in our boat too, rolling her eyes at us). Cameron had picked the wrong girls this time.
Furious as I was, I realized something else was wrong. Even though Sean still held my head down, I was the only one who thought to ask, “Who’s driving the boat?”
Over the motor, I heard girls screaming at us the instant before we crashed.
The impact threw Sean off me. There was an awful screeching. I scrambled up and saw everybody was on the floor now but me. I jumped into the driver’s seat and threw the throttle into reverse.
Too late. We’d puttered into the marina and had hit one of the newer model speedboats. As I backed away from it, I saw the black mark our bumper had made up the side.
Worse, my dad stood on the wharf, watching. Funny how whenever I broke a bone, he had to be hunted up, but whenever we damaged the merchandise, he was on hand instantly. Glowering, he showed me his binoculars. Even from a distance, he’d seen everything. Then he pointed the binoculars at me. We’d been through this enough times that I knew what he meant. Whatever the speedboat and our boat needed, I would fix them. He headed back up the steps toward the showroom without a word.
Cameron and Sean moaned at me, rubbing it in.
As I idled the boat into the usual space and cut the engine, McGillicuddy picked up my broken sunglasses from underfoot and handed them to me. “Looks like that mark will come out with buffing.”
“I hope.” Bailing out of the boat onto the wharf, I tossed the sunglasses into the trash before Cameron and Sean could rib me any more about this awful day. I blinked in the darkness of the warehouse until I could see, and I grabbed the wax and a cloth. Then I blinked in the bright sunlight outside and thought I was hallucinating. My first break: Lori, Rachel, and Tammy had parked their boat and were talking to the guys on the wharf. I walked over, gripping the wax and cloth hard in each fist, hoping Lori wasn’t flirting with Cameron again, or Sean. Maybe I should put the can of wax down before I found out. It could really hurt somebody.
“Adam,” Lori called, loudly enough for me to hear her, but not so loud that her voice would carry up to my mom in the marina office—or to her dad, who might be listening from their screened porch facing the water. “I came over to get some tips from the boys about teaching Tammy and Rachel to board. Of course I did not come over here to see you. How could you think such a thing? That would be disobedient.”
I held up the wax. “For my own disobedience, I have to buff the boat. Then I’m going for a jog.”
She tilted her head. Probably her eyes widened, but I couldn’t see them behind her sunglasses. I hated not being able to see her eyes. She asked, “In this heat?”
I didn’t mind jogging in the heat. The heat was a big, friendly animal that liked to wrestle and only occasionally sat on me until I lost my breath. Anyway, she was missing the point. I repeated carefully, “I am going for a jog.”
“I heard you the first time,” she said. “It’s late afternoon in the middle of June. It’s ninety-five degrees out here.”
“He means he’s going for a jog,” Rachel and Tammy said at the same time.
“He’s going for a jog.” Lori still didn’t get it. Normally her blondeness was one of the things I loved about her. At the moment, not so much.
Exasperated, Cameron told her, “Adam wants you to go for a j
og too.”
She said, “Oh!”
“If you two airheads have to hook up secretly for very long,” Sean said, “you’re not going to make it.”
“Like you’re an expert on making relationships work,” Rachel piped up.
Now Cameron and McGillicuddy moaned, rubbing in the jab at Sean. I couldn’t help but chime in. And when I saw the look Sean gave me, I regretted it. I didn’t expect him to be on my side against my parents, but I hoped he wouldn’t go out of his way to sabotage me. And sabotage was more likely if he and Rachel stayed broken up and he stewed in his own juices.
Lori was thinking the same thing—eyeing me, or so I thought. I desperately wanted to reach down from the wharf and take those sunglasses off her. She asked me, “Not that I have any interest in this whatsoever, but how long will it take you to buff the boat?”
“An hour,” I said.
“Thirty minutes,” McGillicuddy said. “I’ll help him. Then I’m taking Tammy bowling, so if you go for a jog, I won’t be around to see it.”
Lori mouthed a thank you to her brother. “Okay then. Thanks for the wakeboarding tips, guys.” She started the engine and cranked the throttle into reverse.
“Wait a minute,” Rachel protested over the idling engine and the bubbling lake. “I thought we would really get some wakeboarding tips.”
“Are you kidding?” Lori shouted. “You chicks are hopeless.” Rachel and Tammy laughed with her as the boat floated backward and then idled forward, toward her dock.
We watched them go. McGillicuddy stared at Tammy’s ass in that bikini. Sean pined after Rachel. Cameron seemed astounded at the whole sight—Lori had never entertained girlfriends before—but it was impossible to tell which girl he was looking at.
And I decided that if I ever went out with Lori again, I would install ten or twelve alarm clocks in the truck to wake us up, just in case. Being grounded from her was torture.
Finally McGillicuddy said, “I’ll go get some wax.”
“Thanks, man.” I appreciated him helping me meet with Lori.
“Better you than Cameron,” McGillicuddy grumbled. “I know where Cameron’s been.”
Sean snorted.
Cameron said, “I already told you, I did not come on to Lori.”
He’d better not.
Half an hour later, I snagged two bottles of water from the fridge. I should have taken only one in case I was intercepted. But even though Lori and I had kissed a lot in the past week, Lori was squeamish about drinking after me. We’d shared drinks while riding around in my truck. She’d even used my toothbrush once. And I’d seen her hesitate. Probably because Sean had spit in her Coke ten years ago. If I were her, I would be grossed out for a long time too.
Then I headed outside. The heat of the afternoon would take your breath away, but after the frigid air-conditioned house, my skin drank it in. I stuck the bottles of water in the mailbox, which couldn’t be seen from my house or Lori’s through the thick trees. She wasn’t at the road. Since hanging around our mailboxes would look guilty, she’d probably set off jogging. She was fast for a girl, but I could catch her.
Which way had she gone? We should have discussed this before. But if we’d agreed to go to the left or the right, she would have messed it up anyway. I gazed down the street dappled in shade, then turned the other way and jogged into the sun.
Normally I ran to detox my brain when Sean made me so mad I couldn’t think straight. This happened once a day or so. Running got my mind off my troubles.
This time, running did not get my mind off Lori. For one thing, the skull-and-crossbones pendant she’d given me banged against my breastbone with every step. I didn’t want to take it off, though. For another thing, when I finished this run, she would be at the end of it.
Three miles later, I’d returned to the mailboxes. That’s when I saw her jogging toward me from the other direction. Her blonde ponytail bobbed behind her. She wore nothing but a sports bra and very small running shorts, and her tanned skin shone with sweat. It was almost as good as seeing her in the bikini. Better, in a way. Lori’s body was most beautiful in action.
Lori’s brain, as usual, was a couple of steps behind her body. I swear she stared straight ahead without seeing me for a full ten seconds, listening hard to her music, daydreaming.
Then she broke into the biggest smile. She pulled out her earbuds and stuffed the cords into the armband that held the player. “Mr. Vader!” she called in the awful British accent she used when she thought somebody was mad at her. “We shan’t meet like this anon. ‘Tisn’t proper.”
It was hard to stay angry. I did my best. “We weren’t even apart for twelve hours, and you flirted with Parker Buchanan.”
“I waved to Parker Buchanan.”
“You flirted with Cameron.”
“I knew you’d say that.” She reached me and put her hands on her hips, breathing hard. “He sat close to me in the boat so we could hear each other over the motor.”
I believed her. The thing was—and I knew this was unreasonable—I didn’t want her talking to Cameron at all.
She bent over and put her hands on her knees. This gave me a nice view down her bra. “Cameron and I were talking about you,” she panted. “He said that you—” She straightened and looked around us at the woods. “We need to talk, and we can’t do it out here.”
I stared her down, trying to stay mad at her, trying not to glance at her boobs.
She tilted her head to one side and grinned. “You’re sexy when you brood.”
I pressed my lips together.
“You’re cute when you try not to laugh.” She tickled my ribs, which were more ticklish than usual because I wasn’t wearing a shirt.
I grabbed her hand. With the middle finger of my other hand, I traced the neckline of her bra. I asked appreciatively, “Sports bra or what?”
Her green eyes widened, the same color as the wild trees behind her, and her lips parted.
Suddenly it was too hot, even for me. We stood on an asphalt road that had been melting in the sun all day. I could hardly breathe the thick air. Her heartbeat raced under my fingertip.
I put my hand down. Then I walked over to the mailbox and slid out the bottles of water. “Do you ever get the feeling you’re being watched?” I asked, handing her a bottle.
“Our parents may have mounted closed-circuit cameras in the poison ivy.” She uncapped the water and took a long drink.
“I wouldn’t put it past my mom at this point.” I drank too, then poured water over my head. Then poured some over hers.
She sputtered. “My hair just blew around a boat for nine hours, and I ran a few miles on the hottest day of the year. You’re ruining my look.”
“You’ll dry in thirty seconds in this heat.” I touched one finger to her wet lips. “And you’re beautiful. You’d have to work pretty hard to mess that up.”
She moved her head ever so slightly. Her lips slid one millimeter against my fingertip, and electricity rushed through my whole body. I lost my breath again.
“Come on,” I choked out. With one last glance around our empty yards and the deserted road, I took her hand and pulled her away from our houses, toward the woods.
Adam let my hand go when we reached the side of the road. Blackberry brambles crowded the bank. As we tried to find a way through, it was every delinquent teenager for herself, apparently.
Out of habit I plucked a few berries and popped them into my mouth. Too late I remembered we were headed for a tryst in the forest together, not playing army with pinecone grenades and our brothers. I should not eat before kissing.
But three steps ahead of me, he plucked some berries on the fly too. Maybe this afternoon wasn’t as strange as I thought. Maybe we really were headed into the trees for a discussion, as I’d suggested. It was innocent after all. Relieved and disappointed, I bit down on the blackberries. Sweet juice filled my mouth, and then the bitter aftertaste.
I picked a few more berries as I pa
ssed. Just as my cheeks puffed out to full capacity in mid-chew, Adam found a break through the thicket and up the hill. He turned around and extended his hand to help me up.
I froze, staring at him in the thick heat, leaves tickling my legs. Boys did not help girls. Not in my experience, anyway. When I was one of the boys, they tromped ahead of me and never once looked back to see if I was still there, much less in need of assistance. Boys had helped me only recently, when they wanted something.
No, this walk through the woods would not be innocent.
Taking his hand, I said, “Fank woo.”
“Hm,” he laughed with his mouth closed.
We crashed through the forest. Since we were sneaking this time together, it seemed like we should have tiptoed along, but there was no way to walk quietly through dry leaves. It also seemed like his brothers and my brother would jump out from behind a bush at any second, or that a snake would fall heavily across my shoulders. Once Sean and Cameron had told me a story about snakes in the jungle dropping down on people from trees. Then they hid in Adam’s tree house with a rubber snake and waited for me to pass by underneath. If I had not been six years old at the time and in perfect health, I would have had a heart attack.
The suspense was too much. We’d walked far enough. We couldn’t see the road or the houses that we’d reach if we kept going. The dark trunks of maples and oaks surrounded us, and the late afternoon sun made the green leaves glow overhead. I stopped behind a huge pine—keeping it between me and the road, because it offered extra protection from the prying eyes of boys and parents—and pulled Adam in front of me. “What I wanted to talk to you about was—”
He kissed me. At first he gently touched his lips to mine. The more exciting development was that in order to do this, he’d stepped very close. His chest was an inch from mine. I could feel his heat. He tasted of blackberries. He leaned even closer and braced his muscular arms on the tree on either side of me.