“I know that,” Mrs. Blair said sarcastically. “But, April, why aren’t you helping? There’s still plenty to unload from the car.”
“Sorry,” April said quickly, trying unsuccessfully to unload her little sister. “They won’t let me help.”
“April, you’re ten years older than they are,” Mrs. Blair said impatiently. “Why do you let them push you around the way you do?”
“Mom—” April cried, turning it into a three-syllable word. “They’ve got me outnumbered, you know?”
“Yeah!” Courtney agreed and resumed tickling April’s neck.
“You haven’t even opened any windows,” her mother wailed. “It’s so stuffy in here, April. The house has been closed up all winter. At least you could open the windows and let some fresh air in.”
“She can’t get up,” Whitney said, pushing April’s head against the straw mat.
“You girls are old enough to help too,” Mrs. Blair said, hoisting the shopping bags.
“No, we’re not. We’re only six,” Courtney insisted.
“You have a smart mouth, young lady,” their mother said, exasperated.
“So do I!” insisted Whitney. “I’m smart too.”
Mrs. Blair laughed. “Get up and help your father unload the car. You know, we didn’t come all the way from Shadyside to roll around on a dusty floor. The sooner we get unpacked, the sooner we can get to the beach.”
Whitney gave April a final push and jumped to her feet. “Let’s go to the beach now,” she demanded.
“Yeah!” echoed her twin, tugging April’s hand, trying to pull her to her feet.
April groaned and stood up. “I’m going to need a vacation after a summer with these two!” she declared, dusting off her tennis shorts and sleeveless top, which had started out white but were now gray and streaked with dirt.
“Oh, I imagine you’ll be spending all of your time with Matt,” her mother called from the back bedroom. “We won’t see you all summer—as usual.”
“Let’s go to the beach,” Courtney demanded, tugging on April’s hand.
“Ow!” April broke away from her little sister and hurried to the back bedroom to confront her mother. “Don’t start in about Matt,” she said heatedly. She blew a strand of straight honey blond hair off her forehead.
“I didn’t say a word about Matt,” Mrs. Blair said defensively. “It’s just that—”
“Just that what?” April demanded. “Go ahead. Say it.”
“It’s just that I thought we’d have a nice family vacation,” her mother said, avoiding April’s stare as she made the bed. “And that maybe you’d meet a bunch of nice new kids here at Sandy Hollow. Instead of hanging around with the same kids you hang around with back in Shadyside.”
“You mean Matt and Todd,” April said angrily.
“Calm down. Sshh,” Mrs. Blair said, raising a finger to her lips. “I guess I was disappointed that Matt and his family decided to summer here again.”
“What’s wrong with Matt?” April demanded, unable to calm down. “We’ve been going together more than a year, and—”
“April—we’ve had this discussion before,” her mother said with a hint of weariness in her voice. “Matt is perfectly okay. He’s very nice, actually. Especially compared to a lot of the boys you’ve brought home.”
“Gee, thanks,” April said sarcastically.
“It’s just that he’s—well, you know, a little immature for you, don’t you think? I mean, he’s only interested in sports, video games, and horror movies. Don’t you think you should look around? Find someone with more intelligent interests? I mean—”
“You’re right, Mom,” April said curtly. “We’ve had this discussion before.” She turned and strode quickly from the room.
“April—where are you going?” Mrs. Blair called after her, realizing she had gone too far, said too much.
“To help Dad,” April called back from the hallway. And then peevishly added: “That’s what you wanted—isn’t it?”
• • • • •
April spent the rest of the afternoon helping her parents. There was so much to do at the summer house—unloading the car, unpacking all the bags, airing out the stuffy rooms, cleaning the house, buying food and supplies—and fighting with Courtney and Whitney.
As the sun lowered behind the dunes, Mr. Blair made the first barbecue of the season. Hot dogs and hamburgers sizzled on the grill, the smoke trailing over the tall reeds bending in the breeze.
Mr. Blair lived to barbecue. It was about the only thing at the beach he did like. He had delicate, fair skin, so he avoided the beach for the most part. He was happy to lie in a hammock and read, waiting for evening so he could barbecue.
After dinner April excused herself and hurried upstairs to change. Glancing at the clock on her small antique dressing table, she saw that she was already late. She had arranged to meet Matt in town at seven-thirty.
He’d better wait for me, she told herself, pulling off her shorts and tossing them on the floor. Then she searched the closet for a pair of denim cutoffs.
“Why do you let your sisters push you around?”
Suddenly her mother’s words from that afternoon came back to April.
“Because it’s easier than fighting with them,” April answered the question.
“Because it’s always easier to give in, not to fight with people.
“Because I’m a pushover.”
All of these answers seemed right to April. And wrong.
She brushed her straight blond hair, her emerald green eyes staring back at her from the scratched dressing-table mirror.
Am I really such a pushover? she asked herself, examining her face in the spotted mirror. She liked what she saw—for the most part. If only her nose were a little longer. She wasn’t as pretty as her sisters, but she was okay.
I’m not going to be a pushover about Matt, she decided, pulling her brush through her hair one last time before standing up.
I’m not going to let Mom put him down anymore.
Matt is a great guy. I’m glad he’s going to be at Sandy Hollow too. We’re going to have a really awesome summer together.
She waved good-bye to her parents, who were still on the deck in back, playing some kind of leapfrog game with the Twin Terrors. Then she headed around to the front of the house and, half walking, half jogging, headed along Beach Haven Drive toward town.
Beach Haven Drive.
She had to laugh. It was such a fancy name for what was nothing more than a narrow, unpaved path.
It was about a ten-minute walk from the cluster of summer cottages, past a sandy patch lined with tall reeds, then flat, grassy fields dotted with an occasional oak or willow tree, to the small town.
Following the path, April was only about five minutes from her house when someone leapt out of the shadows of the tall reeds and grabbed her roughly from behind.
CHAPTER 5 COLD FOREVER
“Gotcha!” Matt cried.
He let go of April and stepped onto the road, a taunting grin on his face, his dark eyes challenging her to retaliate. “April Fools’!”
“Matt—you jerk!” April cried, swinging a fist and missing him as he dodged to one side, laughing. He was always scaring her and crying “April Fools’!” and she really hated it.
She turned to Todd, who had followed his friend out from the tall reeds, his hands shoved into the pockets of his faded jeans. “Tell him he’s a jerk,” she said, her heart still thudding hard in her chest.
“You’re a jerk,” Todd obediently repeated to Matt.
Matt’s grin didn’t fade. Despite the cool of the evening, he was wearing red and blue baggy shorts and a sleeveless blue T-shirt. Matt stood over April, tall and broad-chested, a little pudgy. With his short brown hair, black eyes, and round cheeks, he reminded April of a big teddy bear.
Todd formed a complete contrast to his friend. He was short and lean with curly, carrot-colored hair and a serious expression punctuate
d by piercing blue eyes. He seldom smiled. He was quiet and shy, especially compared to Matt. Even though the three of them hung out together constantly, Todd often seemed uncomfortable, reluctant to tag along with the other two.
In the past few months April had tried arranging dates for Todd with some of her friends. He was painfully shy around them and never mustered up the courage to ask any of them out a second time. April gave up trying, and Todd just hung out with Matt and her.
“When did you get here?” Matt asked, putting an arm possessively around April’s shoulder.
“This afternoon,” she replied. “The house is in pretty good shape, but my parents will be cleaning it for a week!”
“My mom had a fit when we arrived yesterday,” Matt said, “because one of the windows was broken and some kind of animal had gotten in and left a few surprises on the carpet.”
“Yuck,” April said. “Your mother is such a neat-freak, she must have dropped her teeth.”
“Oh, no. She took it very calmly. She just said she wanted to turn around and drive back to Shadyside and never come back,” Matt said, chuckling.
“Hey, this sure beats Fear Street,” Todd said, a few paces behind them. Todd lived in a ramshackle, old house across the street from the Fear Street cemetery. Any place would be better than that, April thought.
“You won’t believe what a great place this is,” Matt said to Todd. “It’s awesome. Bodysurfing all afternoon, soaking up the rays. Then party on the beach all night. Then throw up all morning and start all over again!”
Matt laughed. April playfully shoved him away. “You’re really gross.”
“What else is new?” Todd asked quietly.
“Hey—whose side are you on?” Matt asked, pretending to be offended. He slung his arm back over April’s shoulder and they continued to follow the curving dirt road past flat, grassy fields, a cluster of small, white clapboard houses, and finally into the town.
The air grew warmer as they stepped onto the wood-plank walk that lined Main Street and stopped to look around. April reached up and unloaded Matt’s arm from her shoulder. His arm seemed to weigh a ton.
“Hey, look—” Matt said, pointing. “They added a video-game arcade next to Swanny’s.” He turned back to Todd. “You bring any money?”
Todd searched his jeans pockets but pulled out only the blue plastic butane lighter he always carried. He shook his head.
Matt turned back to April. “No way,” she told him, her green eyes flaring. “We’re not hanging out in a stuffy arcade tonight. I thought we were going to walk around town, check out who’s here, then go to the beach.”
“Oh, yeah. Right,” Matt said, giving the arcade one last, longing look.
They made their way slowly up one side of Main Street, stopping to check out the shop windows before heading down the other side of the street. Even though the season had just begun, the town was crowded. Main Street was clogged with slow-moving cars, the walks filled with new arrivals chatting, greeting one another, aimlessly moving in pairs and small groups.
“Hey, check out the movie theater,” Matt cried enthusiastically, staring up at the old-fashioned marquee across the street. “A Living Dead festival!” He slapped Todd a high five. “All right!”
He pulled the two of them across the street to study the movie posters displaying the coming attractions. “Looks like it’s all horror, all the time!” he declared, slapping Todd another enthusiastic high five.
April groaned. She hated horror movies. She couldn’t understand why Matt thought they were so terrific.
“Come on, Matt.” She pulled him away. “What’s going on over there?”
The old movie theater was the last building on the street. The little town just came to an end there, giving way to a small, asphalt rectangle used as a parking lot, and then a wide, grassy field that was used for town picnics and all kinds of sporting events. That night the field was brightly lit with several spotlights, and the dark outlines of several trucks and vans could be seen on the grass.
Hurrying across the parking lot, April and her companions saw what was going on. A carnival was being set up. As they approached, they could hear the shouts of the workers, the whine of saws, and the steady thud of hammers.
It didn’t seem real. The spotlights, aimed at the sky, created more shadow than light. Workers busily moved in and out of the shadows. Like a dark, silent giant, a Ferris wheel loomed over the field. Colored lights were being strung from poles. Food and game booths were being hammered into place. Men struggled to bolt a small roller-coaster track together.
April, Matt, and Todd huddled together at the edge of the field, watching the dreamlike spectacle. “Wonder if they’ll have a Gravitron,” Todd said quietly, breaking their silence.
“What’s that?” April asked.
“You know. It’s the thing that spins around and then the floor drops out and leaves you pressed against the wall.”
“Sounds great,” April said sarcastically.
Matt stared at Todd in surprise. “You like that ride?”
“No way,” Todd said quickly. “I wouldn’t go on it. I just wondered if they have it.”
“I love Ferris wheels,” April said, turning her eyes to the dark structure that towered over the field.
“They’re for wimps,” Matt said scornfully. “I mean, what’s scary about a Ferris wheel?”
“Why does everything have to be scary?” April demanded.
He took her hand. “Come on. Let’s check out the beach. This is boring.”
The night sky was clear, bright, and cloudless, and the sandy beach shimmered like a broad, silver ribbon under the light of a full moon.
Couples walked barefoot along the shore, gentle waves lapping over their ankles. Groups of kids, blankets spread over the powdery sand, sat and talked and laughed. Music boomed from portable radios and tape players, a jangle of sound, rising and falling over the rush of water as it lapped at the shore.
At the base of a low dune, some kids had built a small bonfire. Making their way toward it, their bare feet moving silently over the soft sand, April and Matt recognized some of the kids, townies they had met the summer before.
“Hey—Ben!” Matt called out to a boy with shadows playing over his face from the fire as it darted and flickered.
“Whoa!” Ben Ashen, tall and gangly with short, spiked black hair, wheeled around at the sound of his name and peered at Matt. “Hey—the Mattster! How you doin’? You still so ugly?”
“You still so stupid?” Matt gave Ben a hard slap on the back.
Ben groaned. “Do that again and I’ll hurl on you.”
“What a class guy!” Matt exclaimed, and raised his hand to give Ben another hard backslap, but Ben edged away.
Several other kids greeted April and Matt. They lowered themselves onto a communal blanket, feeling the warmth of the crackling fire. Huddled in the red glow, everyone began talking at once.
“Hey, Todd, there’s room for you,” Matt called, suddenly remembering his friend. Todd, who had been left standing awkwardly in the shadows, hands in his pockets, hesitantly lowered himself to the blanket on the other side of April. “Hey, everyone, this is Todd,” Matt announced.
“You see the new arcade?” Ben asked Matt. “It’s excellent.”
“I saw it, but I didn’t bring any money,” Matt said.
“I’ve got some,” Ben told him, rising to his knees. “Come on. Let’s go.”
Matt started to get up, then remembered April. “Uh, not tonight, man.” He put an arm possessively around April’s shoulders and turned to smile at her. Her emerald eyes glowed, reflecting the firelight. She smiled back at him and lowered her forehead affectionately against his chest.
“Well, I’m outta here,” Ben announced, climbing to his feet.
“Later,” Matt said, without looking up.
Ben started jogging over the dune. “Bring some money tomorrow night,” he called back to Matt. “Steal it if you have to.”
“He’s a class guy, isn’t he?” Matt said quietly, holding April close.
She made a face, then glanced over at Todd, who was by himself at the edge of the blanket, staring at the fire, not talking to anyone. She saw that he was twirling the blue plastic lighter between his fingers, moving it back and forth in his hand, the way he always did when he felt nervous or uncomfortable.
April started to say something to him, but before she could, Matt put his hand on her chin, tilted her head up to his, and began to kiss her.
• • • • •
“That one,” Jessica said, red eyes aflame, peering at Gabri in the darkness.
“Which one?” Gabri asked, floating beside her, the wind filling his outspread wings.
“The blond girl,” Jessica said impatiently.
The two bats lowered themselves toward the ring of teenagers around the campfire, but stayed high enough to remain in the dark and out of sight.
“She’s perfect for you, Gabri,” Jessica said, her voice a wet whisper through her slender, pointed fangs. “Look at that blond hair, those rosy, milk-fed cheeks, that wholesome good health. She’s just your type!” A hiss of laughter escaped her small opening of a mouth.
“No!” Gabri whispered, fluttering his black wings in agitation. “That big lunk of a boy has his arm around her. He’s kissing her. She has a boyfriend, Jessica. I really must protest.”
“I really must protest.” Jessica imitated his voice, mocking him. “You really sound like a bad movie, Gabri.”
“I don’t care. I protest. The girl you’ve chosen for me has a boyfriend. How am I to win her affections if—”
“You didn’t think I’d make it easy for you!” Jessica declared, another hiss of laughter spraying the night sky.
She soared high as he attempted to bump her, then allowed herself to float back beside him. “Of course, if you’d like to give up now . . . ” she teased.
“No!” Gabri cried, tilting toward the leaping flames below, then swooping easily away. His tiny red eyes peered through the darkness, attaching to April like evil radar, studying her carefully.