Read Tan Lines: Sand, Surf, and Secrets / Rays, Romance, and Rivalry / Beaches, Boys, and Betrayal Page 9


  She lay back against the headrest. The sun beat down on her face. Her skirt was damp and wrinkled. Her blouse stuck to her back. Her shoes hurt. There was no way around the fact that job hunting was a full-time job. And the pay was lousy.

  She cast a furtive glance at Austin. He was wearing cutoffs and no shoes, and a pair of near-black Oakleys was hiding his eyes. He’d taken off his shirt to soak up the sizzling rays. He was even more firm and well muscled than she remembered from spring break.

  Austin started up the car. “What did the dolphin people say?”

  “When I told them I was Diana’s cousin, they couldn’t stop raving about her. About how great she is with the kids, and all the progress she’s made with some of their really tough cases.” Summer kicked off her shoes and propped her feet on the dash. “It’s weird. It’s like this whole other side of Diana she’s never shown to anyone.”

  Austin pulled onto the two-lane highway and headed back toward Coconut Key. The hot wind whipped their hair into a frenzy. “She’s a strange girl, Diana. Very complex. There’s something not quite trustworthy about her that makes her quite appealing.”

  “What do you mean? I trust her.”

  “Well, you know her better than I do, obviously. I just get the feeling that with Diana, there’s always a little bit more to the story.”

  Summer watched the sea grass zipping past. The ocean was alive with sunlight. Even with sunglasses, she had to squint.

  She thought about Diana’s impromptu visit to California. It occurred to her that if Diana saw Seth, she might unintentionally slip and mention the lost ring…or even Austin. The very thought made Summer queasy. Maybe she should say something to Diana, just to be sure. Of course, chances were that Diana wouldn’t even see Seth. Summer was probably worrying for nothing.

  “So, anyway,” Austin said, “think there’s any chance the dolphin guys will hire you?”

  “Oh, they were really nice, but I doubt it. Besides, I don’t want to invade Diana’s turf, you know? And we already live together. Working together…that might just be too much togetherness.” Summer closed her eyes to the bone-melting sun. “And anyway, they have about a zillion applicants, and they were hoping for someone who could work part-time this fall. And I won’t exactly be in commuting distance come September.”

  “Where will you be this fall, exactly?”

  Summer opened her eyes. Austin was looking at her, but with his dark shades, she couldn’t read his expression.

  “I’ll be a freshman at the University of Wisconsin.”

  “And why is that?”

  Summer sat up a little straighter. “Because it’s where I want to go to school.”

  “And why is that?”

  “What are you all of a sudden, Joe Shrink?” Summer asked.

  Austin shrugged. “Just curious.”

  “I’m going to UW because Seth and I were both accepted there, and it’s a good school, and it’s close to my home.” She hesitated. “My home” sounded funny now that she was living in Florida again. But Minnesota was her real home. It was the place where her family was, the place where she’d been born. The place where she’d grown up.

  “Why UW?” Austin pressed. “Why not, I don’t know, the University of Minnesota? Or Michigan? Or Arkansas?”

  Summer occupied herself putting her sandals back on. “Well, I did apply to some other schools. But Seth’s dad and grandfather went to UW. It was kind of important to him to continue the tradition. And I didn’t care where I went as long as—”

  Austin looked over, lowering his shades to make sure she saw his skeptical expression. “As long as you were with Seth. That’s so fifties of you. You’re deciding the future of your education based on the desires of your boyfriend?” He shook his head. “You seem like such a feminist. And now you reveal this dark side.”

  “I am a feminist,” Summer said, scowling. “And it’s not just my boyfriend. My family’s there, and the friends I grew up with. My best friend in Bloomington, Jennifer, is going to UW. Lots of people I know. Not just Seth.”

  “And what will you be studying way up there in Wisconsin? Going for a PhD in moo-cows?”

  “I’m undecided.” Summer crossed her arms over her chest. “How should I know what I want to be? I’m only eighteen.”

  “That, at least,” Austin said with a grin, “is an enlightened answer.”

  “I’m so glad you approve.”

  “So the plan is, you go to UW, marry Seth, get a nice, bland job, maybe in the insurance industry—yeah, that’d be about right—then have nice, bland little Seths and Summers?”

  “Something like that. Except for the insurance part. And the bland part.”

  They slowed as they neared the edge of Coconut Key. The town sprouted out of nowhere, a sudden, crazy hodgepodge of old houses with tin roofs and latticework porches. Many were on stilts or concrete pilings as a protection against hurricanes. Graceful herons walked the edge of the road in stately slow motion.

  “So where else did you apply?”

  “Some other schools in the Midwest,” Summer said. “And one down here, just for the hell of it.”

  “Florida Coastal? The one Diana and Marquez are going to?”

  Summer shook her head.

  “Carlson?” Austin looked at her with renewed respect. “Isn’t that a private experimental college?”

  “It was just an idea. My English teacher suggested it. She said it would stimulate me or something like that. English teachers love to talk about stimulation. The intellectual kind of stimulation, anyway.”

  “And you were accepted?”

  “It doesn’t matter, Austin. I’m not going there. I’m going to UW.”

  They drove on in silence for a while. Summer closed her eyes. The sun was making her drowsy.

  “Hang on.” Austin took a sudden, sharp turn to the right onto a small dirt road lined by squat palms.

  “Where are we going?” Summer asked, grabbing the door handle to keep her balance.

  “Detour.”

  “What kind of detour?”

  “A good detour.” He gave her a cryptic smile. “Most detours are.”

  15

  Love at First Sight

  “I think I’m in love,” Summer murmured as she got out of the car.

  “I knew you’d come to your senses eventually,” Austin said.

  “Not with you. With this place. Have you ever seen such a beautiful school? I mean, it looked good in the brochures. But this is amazing.

  She started down a manicured stone path lined by magnificent palms.

  “Wait up,” Austin called, “I need to put on a shirt,” but Summer couldn’t wait.

  Carlson’s tiny campus was set at the very tip of Coconut Key. Its white stucco buildings with red tile roofs were arrayed along the beach. The grounds were thick with exotic tropical plants in full bloom. In the center of the campus was the striking student union building, a huge mansion that had once been the winter residence of R. T. Carlson, an illiterate immigrant who’d grown up to be an eccentric but generous railroad baron. Upon his death, he’d requested that the land and residence be turned into a college.

  Austin fell into step beside her. “What a beautiful, strange place,” he said. “Check out the huge trees over there.”

  “Banyan trees,” Summer said. “The roots grow down to form new trunks. They’re from India. My English teacher said she used to attend poetry classes under the trunks. It’s like a big tree house.”

  “So she went to school here?”

  “Ms. Desai. She said it was the best choice she ever made.” Summer paused to watch two students sitting by a fountain. “It’s a real free-form curriculum. You don’t declare a major. Instead you just take lots of different courses based on important works of literature.”

  “I’ve heard about it. It’s tough to get into.” He winked at her. “No sweat for you, though, huh?”

  “My grades weren’t that great. They must have liked the essay I
wrote.”

  They sat on the shady steps of the main building. “So what was your essay about?” Austin asked, leaning back on his elbows.

  “What I wanted from my education.”

  “And that would be…?”

  “Well, basically I said I wasn’t sure, but that I thought if I had a good education, I would be able to make informed decisions. You know, make good choices in my life.” Summer shrugged, feeling suddenly self-conscious. “Blah, blah, blah.”

  Austin touched her on the shoulder. “Don’t make fun of yourself that way. I think that’s exactly what you should want from an education.”

  Summer eyed him doubtfully. “If you’re so pro-college, then why did you drop out of the University of Texas after only a semester?”

  “Hey, do as I say, not as I do.” It was Austin’s turn to look uncomfortable. “I guess it was all the stuff with my dad. All of a sudden he’s got this incurable disease, and there’s a fifty-fifty shot I’m going to get it. Acing Rocks for Jocks just didn’t seem to matter much.”

  “What were you going to major in?”

  “Poetry.” He grinned at her, a self-conscious, cockeyed grin that was sweet and self-deprecating. “Yes, I know. Business or medicine might make me more cash. No, they would definitely make me more cash. But my dad was a music major at Juilliard, and he turned out okay. His cello career was really taking off, until…well, anyway, I’m going to go back to school. I just need some time to regroup, is all.”

  The heavy stained-glass doors to the union opened, and a petite young woman with a long braid down her back appeared on the top step. She was carrying a massive load of books. As she started down the steps she dropped several. Summer and Austin leapt to the rescue.

  “Thanks,” she said. “I think I bit off more than I can chew.”

  “Need a hand?” Summer asked.

  “That’d be great. I’m just heading over to Wilson Hall. Thataway.”

  They split up the books and started down a winding path toward one of the stucco buildings near the beach.

  “I’m Cary Woo,” the woman said. “I’m a TA in English lit.”

  “What’s a TA?” Summer asked.

  “Teaching assistant. I’ll bet you’re going to be a freshman, right? I’d remember you otherwise.”

  “You know everybody on this campus?” Austin asked incredulously.

  “It’s a tiny place. Everyone knows everyone.”

  Austin laughed. “The University of Texas was like a small city.”

  “That’s how UW is,” Summer said. “Really big.”

  “Well, that has its advantages,” Cary said. “Lots of variety. Me, I like the family feel of Carlson. It’s a special place.”

  She opened the door to one of the little buildings. Big windows afforded a view of the white beach and the endless water beyond. “Plus,” Cary added, “the view’s spectacular. And if you want more excitement, there’s always FCU, down the road. We share some facilities and library resources with them, so it’s like having a sister campus.”

  “Two of my friends are going there.” Summer dropped her load of books onto the wooden desk at the front of the classroom. The room smelled of chalk dust and sea air.

  “Well, thanks for the help,” Cary said.

  “Anytime.” Austin started for the door. “Summer? You coming?”

  Summer hesitated. “Cary?” she said shyly.

  “Hmm?”

  “Are the classes here as hard as everybody says?

  “Oh, yeah, they’re tough.” She laughed. “I mean, you work your tush off here. It’s intense and it’s focused. It’s not the right college for everybody. You have to be very self-motivated, very into learning.” She paused. “But it’s worth it. It’s something you’ll take with you the rest of your life. It helps you define where you want to go, to make the right choices, you know?”

  Summer glanced over her shoulder at Austin. He was leaning against the doorjamb, thumbs hooked in his pockets, studying her carefully.

  “Yeah,” Summer said. “I guess.”

  A few steps out the door, Summer stopped in mid-stride.

  “What?” Austin asked.

  “Just a second. Wait here, okay?” She ran back to the doorway. “Cary?”

  Cary looked up in surprise. “Back already?”

  “I was wondering…if someone had applied here and been accepted but then said no and then decided she wanted to maybe go after all, what would that someone do?”

  Cary smiled. “I imagine that someone would check in with admissions,” she said.

  “That’s what I figured.”

  “Good luck,” Cary said.

  Summer nodded. “It’s really hard here, huh?”

  “It’s really great, too.”

  Austin was waiting for her under a palm tree. “Forget something?”

  “Not exactly,” Summer said softly. “I may have overlooked something, though.”

  “Mind if I swing by my place?” Austin asked when they returned to his car. “I’ve got to work tonight, and I need to pick up my waitron clothes.”

  Summer looked at him doubtfully.

  “Believe me, it’s not a place for seduction, Summer. It’s pretty much of a hellhole.”

  “Okay, then.”

  Austin’s apartment wasn’t a hellhole, but it did make Summer’s place look palatial. It was a garage apartment, a tiny one-bedroom on a side street in the seedier part of Coconut Key.

  “I’ve never seen so many books outside the library,” Summer said, stepping over a cardboard box full of musty-smelling volumes.

  “I had my mom ship them out. Cost me a fortune. But they’re like friends, you know? I felt lost without them around.” He yanked off his T-shirt. “Make yourself at home. I’ve gotta change. There might be something edible in the fridge, but I wouldn’t put money on it. If it’s moving, don’t eat it.”

  Summer sat on the aging couch. She felt guilty being in Austin’s apartment, although there was really no reason for her to feel that way. She picked up a volume of poetry off the floor. Rilke. One of Cary’s books had been a volume of poetry.

  Summer tried to picture herself sitting in one of Carlson’s white stucco buildings. She would be carrying a heavy book bag. All her fellow students would be smarter. She would ask stupid questions, and they would be too polite to laugh, but they would snicker behind their hands.

  Austin reappeared. He’d changed into his work clothes and run a comb through his windblown hair. He looked way too good to be going to a job waiting tables. He looked way too good for Summer to be in his apartment without a chaperon.

  “Sorry I can’t feed you. How about tomorrow night, though? It’s my birthday. I could cook you up some lasagna or something.”

  “I don’t think so, Austin.”

  He shook his head. “You’re going to make me spend my birthday alone in this hovel? Have you no heart?”

  She hesitated. “A platonic birthday dinner? No strings?”

  “No strings. Just the best lasagna you’ve ever tasted.”

  “I guess.” She fell silent, staring at the Rilke book she was holding.

  “You’re awfully quiet.”

  “I was thinking about that school.”

  Austin sat beside her. “You’re thinking about reapplying, aren’t you?”

  Summer stared at him, aghast. “I didn’t say that.”

  “You implied it. Implied applying.” He touched her hand. “You are, aren’t you?”

  She closed her eyes. “Everyone is counting on my going to UW. Seth. My mom. Jennifer. All my high school friends. I have a dorm room picked out. I put a deposit down. It’s too late to change my mind.”

  “It’s never too late, Summer. Never.”

  Summer groaned. “How can I be so unsure about everything? How could I not know? I made a decision, and I have to stick with it.”

  “You made a decision based on inadequate information. You chose UW without seeing Carlson. Today you went there, a
nd it felt right, didn’t it?”

  Summer nodded. “But I can’t change my mind just because the campus is pretty.”

  “That’s not why it felt right. It felt right because you saw yourself there and you realized you’d let your fear get in the way of making the right choice. You talked to Cary and you started to think, ‘Hey, I could make it here.’”

  “I’m not smart enough for Carlson.”

  Austin looked annoyed. “I guess the admissions people were just hitting the beer pretty heavy on the day your application showed up.”

  Summer rubbed the spot where her ring should have been. “I can’t. What about my mom? She needs me right now. What about Seth? He’s counting on our being together. I can’t.”

  “I know you think I’m biased here, and I am.” Austin took her fidgeting hands and held them still. “But you have to believe me when I tell you that you can’t make decisions about your life because it will make your mom happy or some guy happy. Not even,” he added with a sigh, “if that guy is me.”

  “I know that.”

  “But do you really?”

  Summer thought of the classroom again. She pictured Cary asking her a question. Maybe a question about Keats, a difficult question, an unfathomably hard question, not at all like questions Ms. Desai had asked all year in senior English.

  She pictured herself answering the question. No one in the class would smile. She would answer correctly. They would all be impressed. They would see that she had valuable things to offer. They would know that she belonged.

  “If I could be wrong about college,” Summer whispered, “I could be wrong about…anything.”

  Austin nodded. “Welcome to life,” he said.

  He was leaning toward her so imperceptibly that his lips were almost on hers before she realized that this time they really were going to kiss.

  It was as if they’d kissed a million times, and as if they’d never kissed before. It was as if Austin knew just what she was feeling. It was as if he’d climbed right inside her mind and her heart to a place she’d never let anyone go before.