Read Just a Summer Romance Page 7

“On Fire Island, right? Oh, that’s so romantic! I can’t stand it! Tell me about him. What’s his name?”

  “Justin Hart,” Mel replied, still blushing.

  “Justin Hart,” Diana repeated slowly. “Why does that name sound familiar? …Is he from around here?”

  “No. New York City. He goes to a private school. He’s a sophomore.”

  Diana frowned. “That name is so familiar Oh, well.”

  “There must be a million Justins,” said Mel. “It’s a popular name.”

  “Right. So tell, tell.”

  “Well, he’s gorgeous. I mean really gorgeous!” Mel couldn’t help grinning again. “We met a few weeks ago, and we saw each other for the rest of the summer.”

  “How are you going to see him now? Are your parents going to let you go into the city alone?”

  Mel paused. She didn’t know what to say. On the one hand, she knew that Justin had wanted just a summer romance. On the other hand, he had Mel’s phone number and had promised to send her his new numbers and addresses when he could. On the third hand, Mel hadn’t heard from him yet; she had thought he might call to find out whether Moonrise was still standing. On the fourth hand, it was only Wednesday—just two days since they’d left the island. On the fifth hand, Justin had wanted just a summer romance. (Mel was back where she started.) Maybe he wasn’t going to call at all.

  “I don’t know,” Mel finally told Diana. “I really don’t know.”

  Chapter Two

  IT WAS A GOOD thing that Mel decided not to sit around and wait for Justin to call or write. Almost two weeks went by, and she didn’t hear from him. She reminded herself about the summer romance. And she reminded herself that she and Justin honestly liked each other. That was a comforting thought when doubts set in. Maybe a clean break was the best way to end things. Justin had been right. It would be too difficult to see each other now that school had started.

  Besides, Mel thought, there were some cute boys at BHS; there were even some cute boys in the freshman class. P.J. Perkins, for instance. Of course, he wasn’t as cute as Justin, but he was nice. At any rate, he was taller than Mel.

  Mel finished her homework and flopped on her bed. She looked around her room. She liked her room, even though it was very different from Diana’s and from her other friends’. Their rooms were modern, furnished in high tech with brightly painted walls and furniture.

  Mel’s was old-fashioned. Her furniture was from her grandmother’s house—heavy and dark and antique. The wallpaper was a pattern of tiny yellow and pink roses between narrow green stripes. On her walls were framed pictures. Mel didn’t like posters. She supposed she was old-fashioned, which was why she was sitting around waiting to hear from Justin.

  “This is ridiculous,” Mel said aloud, and stood up. “I am not going to moon over Justin.”

  She left her room and walked down the hall, passing Timmy in his room playing with his computer, and Dee in her room, doing her homework. She trotted down the stairs, past her parents in the living room (Mr. Braderman reading, Mrs. Braderman paying the bills) and went into the den to watch television.

  Mel, however, was not a big TV watcher and had no idea what was on. She started to channel-hop but was overwhelmed by the cable box and its thirty-six channels.

  “Mom?” she called. “Does today’s paper have a TV section in it?”

  “I don’t know, hon. Look for the TV Guide. It’s in there somewhere, probably buried under the magazines.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” Mel began pawing through the stack of magazines on the table next to her. Her parents subscribed to practically everything in the world: Newsweek, Ms., Psychology Today, Good Housekeeping, the New Yorker. At last she found the TV Guide. She started to flip through it, then checked the date. Last week’s. Mel tossed it aside.

  Immediately she snatched it up again. What was that ad she had seen? She opened to the center of the magazine, held it closer, and stared at it. Parading across the two-page advertisement were the actors and actresses who were going to be featured in the new fall shows.

  And right in the middle of the crowd was Justin!

  At least, Mel thought it was Justin. A curly-haired boy with big eyes smiled at her from the left-hand page.

  I’m going crazy, Mel told herself. I’m starting to imagine Justin. That could be any curly-headed, dark-eyed, freckle-faced boy…couldn’t it? It was so hard to tell.

  The top of the ad read, “Watch for the TV Guide Fall Preview issue—coming soon.” The Fall Preview issue. That was where Mel could find out who the boy in the ad was. Mel made another frantic search for the current TV Guide. She found it at last, but it wasn’t the Fall Preview issue. It must be next week, she decided.

  Mel finally selected a program and turned it on.

  “Oh, great,” she thought. “Just in time for the commercials.” The show faded out, and a man in a blue uniform came on to talk about toilet bowl cleanser. Then a woman fed her family frozen dinners and fed her dog All-Natural, Thirteen-Vitamin, High-Energy Dog Chow. After that, came a newsbreak, and then a commercial for People magazine.

  Old covers of People spun across the screen at a dizzying speed, so fast that Mel could barely identify the faces on them. Then the cover of the most recent issue flashed on and stayed on for just a second longer than the old covers had. Mel tried to identify the face she had seen. It had been that of a young, good-looking boy—dark, curly hair, wide brown eyes, a sprinkling of freckles. It looked an awful lot like…

  Now I really am crazy, Mel thought. If Lacey were here, she’d tell me I was zooey, zany, off my rocker, and in outer space.

  I’m seeing things—hallucinating. Justin. Was. Not. On. The. Cover. Of. People. Magazine. I’m going Justincrazy.

  Mel reached over and picked up the receiver of the phone that sat next to the magazines. She dialed Diana’s number.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, it’s me. I think I’m going crazy,” said Mel.

  “Why?”

  “Why what? Why am I going crazy?”

  “No, why do you think you’re going crazy?”

  “Because I keep seeing Justin everywhere. I’m going Justincrazy. Every curly-haired, dark-eyed boy looks like him. I thought I saw him in TV Guide and on the cover of People.

  Diana laughed. “You need to get him off your mind, Mel. And you know the best way to do that?”

  “No. What?”

  “With another boy.”

  “What other boy?”

  “Any other boy. Is there a guy at school you like? Even an upperclassman? It doesn’t matter whether he’s within your reach. All you want is a chase.”

  “What?”

  “In fact, the further out of your reach he is, the better, because the harder he is to catch, the better the chase will be.”

  “Are you saying I need to chase a boy sort of as a hobby? Something to keep my mind occupied?”

  “Yes. Exactly. Who do you like?”

  “P.J. Perkins.”

  “Hmm,” said Diana slowly. “I don’t know. I mean, I don’t know how much of a chase he’ll provide. He is good-looking, and he is nice, but since all the freshman girls are looking at the upper-class boys, the freshman boys have more competition than they know what to do with. Still, P.J. was the president of the eighth-grade class. He was sort of a big-man-on-campus last year. Maybe that’s held over. Yeah…he might be a good one to chase.”

  “I’m glad I have your approval.” Sometimes Diana could be very trying.

  When Mel and Diana finally hung up the phone, Mel calmly looked up the Perkins’ number in the phone book. Eight Perkinses were listed, but P.J. had his own phone, so that made life easy. Even though it was the first time Mel had ever called a boy, she didn’t feel a bit nervous, which only went to show, she thought, that she had, in fact, been made totally loony by Justin Hart.

  P.J. picked up the phone after the first ring. “Hello?”

  “Hello, P.J.?”

  “Yes?”

>   “This is Melanie Braderman. I sit two rows away from you in—”

  “Melanie! Hi!” P.J.’s voice sounded both softer and more excited than usual. He knew who Mel was! What a relief. That made life easier, too.

  “Hi,” Mel said again. “How are you?” (Oh, no. What a dumb thing to say. Justin and Mel had talked so easily. Maybe it was because they’d been face to face.)

  “I’m fine. How are you doing?”

  “I’m fine…too.” (Aughh.) “Well, what I was wondering is…do you want to go to the movies on Friday?”

  “Sure. What’s playing?”

  “Rocky Thirty-five.”

  P.J. laughed. “What’s really playing? Oh, well. It doesn’t matter. We’ll find something to go to.”

  “Okay,” said Mel. “See you tomorrow.”

  “See you.”

  They hung up. Mel had made her first date with a boy.

  Chapter Three

  THE NEXT DAY, WEDNESDAY, Mel was in a daze because of what she’d done the night before. She’d called a boy—a popular boy—and asked him to go to the movies with her, and he’d said yes. Just like that.

  Diana had nearly killed Mel because no chase had been involved. No chase whatsoever. But Mel pointed out that her mind certainly had been taken off of Justin. Diana had to agree.

  After school that day, Mrs. Braderman drove downtown to do some errands, and Mel and Dee went with her. While their mother was in the lingerie shop, the girls browsed through a magazine store. Dee immediately headed for the beauty magazines, while Mel checked out the tabloids (or “rags,” as Lacey called them). She looked them over eagerly. “Live Alien Found in Cow’s Stomach,” she read. “Baffled vet thought cow was pregnant.” She glanced at another. “Possessed Car Drives Owner to New Jersey.”

  Mel smiled. Then she turned away from the tabloids. She knew the real reason she had wanted to go in the store, and it was time to do something about it.

  Mel found the shelf with the current issues of the most popular magazines on it, and scanned it for People, as well as for the new issue of TV Guide, which she hoped would be the Fall Preview issue. She found the TV Guide first. Bold red letters on a banner across the front of the magazine assured her that it was, in fact, the Fall Preview. Mel picked it up without bothering to look inside, and continued her search for People. She couldn’t find it anywhere.

  “Can I help you, miss?” someone asked.

  Mel turned to find a store clerk at her elbow. “I’m looking for People magazine,” she said. “The newest one. I was sure it would be here somewhere.”

  “It is. It’s been going like hotcakes, though. Has that new star on the front—what’s-his-name. Jason somebody. Pete’s bringing another load in from the back. If you’ll wait just—Oh, here he is now.”

  A young boy was struggling toward the front of the store, staggering under a huge stack of bundles of magazines.

  “Got a new People in there for the little lady?” the store clerk asked the boy.

  Pete dropped his load ungracefully at Mel’s feet. “Sure,” he replied. He looked through the bundles, selected one, untied the strings that bound it, pulled out a magazine, and handed it to Mel.

  It was backside up. Mel closed her eyes and turned it over.

  She opened her eyes.

  Justin smiled up at her from the cover.

  It really was Justin. No question about it. Mel could do nothing but stare down at his handsome face.

  “Everything all right?” she heard Pete ask.

  Mel was unable to answer him.

  The clerk shook his head and shot a knowing look at Pete. “Crazy teenager,” he muttered.

  Pete grinned and went to work untying the rest of the bundles.

  Still, Mel could not move. She held the TV Guide in one hand and People in the other and stared down at Justin Hart.

  “You want to buy those,” the clerk asked, “or just stand there and stare at ’em?”

  Mel snapped back to reality. She realized that the clerk was losing patience with her and hoped that Dee hadn’t noticed. But Dee was across the store, looking at fashion magazines.

  “Buy them,” Mel replied. “Thank you.” The clerk stepped behind the cash register at the counter, and Mel handed him the magazines and a five-dollar bill. He slipped the magazines into a bag and handed it and the change back to Mel.

  She threaded her way through the racks to Dee. “We better go,” she told her shakily. “We’re supposed to meet Mom in a few minutes.”

  Dee didn’t look up. “Okay,” she replied vaguely. “Mel, how do you think I would look if I got my hair permed?”

  “Like a poodle.” Mel was anxious to go home. She wanted to read her magazines, but she wanted to read them in private, although she wasn’t sure why.

  Dee returned the copy of Seventeen to its place on the rack.

  “Are you going to buy anything?” asked Mel.

  “I don’t know.” Dee noticed Mel’s bag. “What’d you buy?”

  “Oh…nothing.”

  “‘Oh…nothing’ always means something. What is it? Scientific American!”

  “You wouldn’t be interested.”

  “Probably not. All right, let me just find out if they have the new People, and then we’ll go.”

  “They—they don’t!” Mel said hurriedly. “I just asked.”

  “They don’t?” Dee looked so disappointed that Mel felt guilty.

  “The clerk said they’ve been selling like hotcakes.”

  “Oh. Darn.”

  “What’s wrong?” asked Mel.

  “Everyone at school’s talking about the guy on the cover. They say he’s absolutely dreamy. I’m dying to see the article. Oh, well. Somebody’ll bring it to school tomorrow.”

  Mel and Dee left the store, Mel carefully steering Dee in a path that avoided the rack of current magazines. They met their mother at the car.

  By then, Mel was frantic to get home, escape to her room, and open the cover of People. No, she didn’t even want to open the cover—at first. She just wanted to stare down at Justin’s gorgeous face…and try to figure out what it was doing on the cover of a magazine.

  Silently she urged her mother through every red light and stop sign. When Mrs. Braderman finally pulled into their driveway, Mel was out the door before the ignition had been turned off.

  “What’s Mel’s hurry?” she heard her mother ask.

  “Don’t know,” replied Dee. “She was acting funny in the store, though. It’s probably just a stage she’s going through.”

  Mel was too panicked over Justin to bother to defend herself. She tore upstairs to her room, closed her door, flung herself on her bed, got up again, locked the door, and returned to her bed.

  At last she could read in peace.

  She withdrew People from the paper bag as if she were handling a rare jewel. Holding her breath, she gazed down at the cover—at Justin’s head of dark curls; at the freckles marching from cheekbone to cheekbone, crossing the bridge of his nose; at his gray eyes. Mel knew Justin well enough to see that even though he was smiling broadly, the smile was his shy one. She kept looking at him and noticed a small space between his top front teeth. “Why didn’t I see that before?” she wondered.

  Mel remembered that the store clerk had referred to Justin as “that new star.” However, he had also called him Jason, so maybe he was wrong. Maybe Justin wasn’t on the cover because he was a star. Maybe he had done something really important, like developed a radical, new, nonpolluting form of energy. Or maybe he was a self-made millionaire.

  Gingerly, Mel opened the magazine to the table of contents. Cover story—page 56. She then opened the magazine, turning directly to page 56, and wondered if that were some sort of sign. She took a deep breath and began to read about Justin Hart.

  When she finished, she let the magazine slide off her lap. She leaned against the headboard in a daze. Justin was a star. No, he was more than a star. He was the hot new teen idol. He was going to be
what Ricky Nelson had been to young fans in the fifties, or what Michael J. Fox was to fans in the eighties—known by all, enjoyed by most, and adored by most girls.

  Mel sighed.

  A year or two earlier, Justin had scarcely been known. He’d done some modeling, he’d done some voice-overs, and he’d appeared in several commercials. Mel remembered the commercials mentioned in People and tried to place Justin in them, but she couldn’t do it.

  Then, in the past year, he had made two movies and been cast in the central role of Zack in a new television series. Everything was breaking at once—the movies, the TV show, and lots of articles and attention. (Justin’s press agent must be working overtime, Mel decided.) Soon the face of Justin Hart would be as familiar to the American public as the face of the president of the United States.

  Mel flipped through TV Guide, looking for a description of “It’s No Joke,” the show Justin would star in. She found it, along with a posed photo of the cast members and a close-up of Justin. The caption under it read: “Meet Justin, the nation’s new ‘Hart-Throb.’” Mel groaned, then scanned the blurb about the show.

  “‘It’s No Joke,’ ” it read, “the continuing story of the Brodys, a family facing today’s problems with a sense of humor.” She read on. The rest of the cast included a mother, a father, a grandfather, an older brother, a little brother, and a younger sister.

  Mel took a close look at Tania Delaney, the girl who played Zack’s sister, Susannah. She seemed to be about Mel’s age, but was entirely too pretty. In fact, she was gorgeous.

  Suddenly feeling shaky, Mel slapped the TV Guide closed and leaped up. She needed to talk to somebody, but not anyone in her family. They wouldn’t have answers, just star-struck questions, and questions were not what Mel needed.

  As silently as she could, Mel crossed her room and stood at her door. She listened for a moment. Not a sound. She turned the lock, opened the door, and peeped into the hallway. More silence. Mel tiptoed into her parents’ room, closed the door, sat down on their bed, and reached for the phone.

  She dialed Lacey’s number.

  Ring…ring… ring…ring. Mel let it ring fifteen times before she gave up.