Beach Lane (18 page)

Read Beach Lane Online

Authors: Melissa de La Cruz

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Social Themes, #Dating & Relationships, #Love & Romance, #Friendship, #General, #Social Issues, #Dating & Sex

BOOK: Beach Lane
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“Ryan, let’s go dance! Can we dance? Please . . .” she whined, pulling Ryan up to the dance floor, leaving Mara at the table alone.

Mara ordered another drink, determined not to feel abandoned. She couldn’t tell exactly why she was so irritated. A breathless Eliza rushed in and took the empty seat.

“I’m so sorry I’m late! Jeremy and I went to Lunch for dinner and we got lobsters and corn bread. I’m SO fat from the carb bloat!” Eliza giggled as she kissed Mara hello.

“Jeremy with the clippers? You went out with Jeremy?” Mara asked. She’d met him the first week. He’d been really nice about helping her navigate the estate. Mara looked at Eliza with a new perspective. Jeremy was a real good guy—a solid guy—she didn’t think someone like Eliza would ever be interested in someone like him.

“Yeah, we spent the whole day together. It was awesome. Oh, look, there’s Lindsay. Hiiiii!” Eliza said, waving.

“So why didn’t you bring him? Didn’t you have a plus one?” Mara had learned that anyone who was anyone had their name “plus one” on the guest list.

“Oh, he would never fit in here,” Eliza said between getting up and saying hello to her friends.

“What do you mean by that?” Mara asked.

“You can’t just bring someone like Jeremy into this world,” Eliza explained. “Oops! Watch it!” she snapped as an overeager birthday well-wisher spilled his whiskey on the rocks onto her dress.

Eliza wiped off the stain, a little annoyed. “People can be so rude,” she griped.

“What world?” Mara asked stubbornly. Her good feeling toward Eliza had vanished. Jeremy was from the same background as Mara—his dad was a carpenter, her dad was in construction. His mother was a teacher, Mara’s mom was a social worker. In fact, back home she was a lot more like Jeremy than Eliza.

“You know, all this,” Eliza said airily. “Oh, there’s Charlie. Hey!” She got up and ran after him. She wanted to make it up to him for missing him at the polo match.

What the hell did Eliza think she was doing, chasing after Charlie when she just had dinner with Jeremy? Mara frowned. She was already in a bad mood from meeting Camille, and now she was totally offended by Eliza’s breezy generalizations and insouciant snobbishness.

Mara had started to really like Eliza, too, even if she was kind of princessy and prone to flake. Eliza had a natural charm about her that Mara had gravitated toward, and she was still grateful for the makeover. Her hair had never looked this good. But now this . . .

Her cell phone blared the familiar chords.
Oh, oh, oh, sweet child o’ mine . . .

Mara checked the caller ID.

JIM M
flashed.

Ugh.

She shut it off. Ryan might have a girlfriend, but that didn’t mean she was ready to make up with her boyfriend. Yet.

ryan gets schooled

AT THE END OF THE EVENING THE REST OF RYAN’S
friends trooped to Charlie’s after-party at the nearby American Hotel, and Eliza had gone with them, but Mara had pleaded exhaustion. Camille had left, so Ryan took Mara home.

“You know, we never did get to have that Scrabble game,” Ryan said as he pulled into the driveway.

“Yeah, I guess we both got kind of busy,” Mara said, a little more cutting than she’d meant it.

Ryan gave her a sidelong glance. “Do you want to play?”

“Sure.”

They set up the board in the kitchen, and Mara counted out the tiles. She adored board games. She knew it was really dorky of her, but she couldn’t help it. In seventh grade she had won a Trivial Pursuit tournament, and she was addicted to the Game Show network..

They played a heated battle, but Mara kicked his ass, spelling
sacristy, temptation,
and
gigolo
to Ryan’s
cat, mop,
and
yam.

Finally Ryan placed his tiles down and spelled “Xer.”
.

“Xer?” Mara asked. “Prefixes aren’t allowed.”

“No, it’s like Generation X-er.” Ryan explained. “A member of Generation X. You know, those people who are a little older than us and sold out the grunge thing for five-dollar cappuccinos
.” He smiled at her. “Let’s see. I’m on a triple-word tile. . . .”


Xer
isn’t a word.”

“Yuh-huh.”

“No way. It’s slang.” Mara shook her head.

“Are you saying you challenge?”

“It’s not a word!” Mara laughed.

“You’re killing me!” Ryan said.

“I’m not going to challenge, but it’s not a word. Go ahead, leave it on. There’s no way you’re going to win anyway.”

“Oh, look who’s cocky now.”

“That’s right.” Mara grinned.

“I’m not going to take your pity,” Ryan huffed, collecting his tiles.

“Leave it! Leave it! I was only kidding.” Mara laughed.

They put away the board game and Ryan opened a bottle of wine, which they drank while looking out at the view from the porch. But their silence wasn’t as comfortable as it had been all those times before.

“So, what happened with Camille?” Mara finally asked.

“She wanted to go to some fund-raiser in Wainscott. I didn’t have it in me to hit another party.”

“She’s very . . . um, cute,” Mara offered.

Ryan shrugged. “She’s nice,” he said, almost defensively.

“Have you guys been seeing each other for a while?”

“Not really,” Ryan said. “What about you and Jim? How long have you guys been dating?”

“Since freshman year, officially. Unofficially, probably since third grade,” Mara said as if this conversation wasn’t unbelievably awkward.

“Mmm,” he said. “It’s Camille’s birthday next week. What do you think I should get her? Is jewelry too much? It’s always so hard to figure out what girls want.”

“Mmm,” she said. Mara didn’t want to hear any more of Ryan’s plans for his girlfriend’s birthday. “It’s so gorgeous out here,” she said, changing the subject. “You don’t know how lucky you are.”

“Actually, I do,” Ryan said.

“I’m sorry—I didn’t mean it that way.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” He smiled a little.

“It must be nice—being rich, I mean,” Mara said, a little shocked at her candor.

“My dad’s rich. It’s his money, not mine,” Ryan said. “I don’t confuse the two. But I don’t fool myself about it either.”

Mara wasn’t sure exactly what he meant by that, but by now they’d covered two of the most awkward conversations they could—significant others and money—and Mara was trying not to push her luck. She was also trying really hard not to let the
hurt she felt about Camille and her New Jersey comment show through. Combined with Eliza’s take on Jeremy’s “status,” Mara was feeling more out of place than she had in a while.

“What do you want to do with your life?” Mara asked. “Surf the Big Ten in Hawaii?”
Oops, that didn’t sound so nice,
Mara realized.

“Nah—that’s just a hobby.” He paused. “I have an uncle in Paris. I think about moving there a lot and helping him with his business.”

“That sounds nice. What’s he do?”

“He owns a gallery. My mom’s brother. Not Anna’s. My real mom.”

“Where is she?”

Ryan looked sad for a moment. “Honestly, I don’t know. She said she was going to check out some ashram in Tibet. Or maybe she’s in South Africa, getting a face-lift on safari. I never know. The kids miss her. She was a lot of fun when she wasn’t crazy.”

“Why? What did she do?”

“Oh, one night she came home and she’d spent basically their entire bank account on a car and a couple of furs and she drove up Fifth Avenue wearing nothing but her underwear in the snow. The doctors said she was manic-depressive. I could have told anyone that. She would bake chocolate cakes and throw an impromptu birthday party and have us all wearing fun little paper hats and the next moment she’d be sobbing in the corner, threatening to slit her wrists.”

“That’s terrible. I’m so sorry.”

Ryan sighed. “It’s good to talk about it sometimes. Dad just pretends nothing ever happened and Anna’s been in the family forever. What’s your family like?”

“We’re so boring.” Mara shrugged, feeling bad for being so testy earlier.

“Boring sounds perfect.”

“My dad’s in construction. He builds, like, developer houses, and he always complains about the shoddy jobs they do. He always tries to do his best, but no one ever wants to pay for it. They put, like, plastic windows in their houses. He’s a good guy. My mom’s a social worker. She works with autistic kids, home-schools them. I’m the youngest. My sister Molly is married and lives in South Boston with her husband. She has two kids. My other sister, Megan, is a hairdresser. She’s a riot. She makes all her own clothes and she looks like Julia Roberts.”

“You guys sound close.”

“We are,” Mara said, her eyes misting a little. She really missed them. “Every summer we go out to Glouster for a week. It’s nice. Nothing like this, though.”

“What made you decide to take this job?”

“I needed the money,” Mara admitted. “And talk about boring, nothing ever happens in Sturbridge.”

“Well, I for one am glad you decided to make it,” Ryan said, leaning down to look in her eyes.

Mara was a little drunk, and for some reason, she didn’t look
away. He was gorgeous—but more than that, he was smart—and funny—and just adorable. She lowered her lashes. She felt his breath on her cheek. She raised her lips to meet his.

And pulled away when she heard the patio door bang open.

Poppy stood in the doorway, holding a cigarette and an open bottle of beer. “Ryan! I didn’t see you there! You scared me!”

“Hey, sis,” Ryan said, easing back into his seat.

“How was Charlie’s?” Poppy asked, leaning on the glass door. “Oh, hey, you’re, like, one of the au pairs, aren’t you?” she said, turning to Mara.

Mara nodded.

“That’s Mara. Mara, you’ve met my sister Poppy, haven’t you?” Ryan asked.

“I think I’ll go to bed now,” Mara said, jumping up and saying good night.

“Good night,” Ryan said, trying to catch her eye, but Mara refused to look at him.

Poppy shrugged. There were so many people going in and out of their house, it was hard to keep track. “Ry, you got a light?”

“You shouldn’t smoke,” Ryan told his younger sister on his way inside. “It’s bad for your skin,” he said with an ironic smile.

“Screw you,” Poppy sneered. Her older brother was such a killjoy.

these girls aren’t as predictable as they look

“CODY! YOU GET BACK HERE, YOU HEAR? CODY!”
Eliza yelled in despair.

The two-year-old streaked out of the main house completely naked, chortling to himself.

Inside, William was gleefully lobbing soggy Cocoa Puffs on the floor, and Zoë and Madison were bickering over who ate the last blueberry scone.

Eliza made a last-ditch effort to try and tackle the baby. With Jacqui nowhere to be found and Mara nursing a killer hangover (mixing star fruit margaritas and cabernet was a very bad idea, it turned out), Eliza was the only one available for kid duty.

“Need some help?” Jeremy asked, picking up Cody by his elbows and swinging him into Eliza’s arms.

“They never listen to me,” Eliza lamented.

With Jeremy’s help Eliza got all the kids, the picnic basket, the Hokey Pokey Elmo, the Limbo Elmo, the Chicken Dance Elmo,
two Bratz babies, coloring books, and sand shovels and buckets into the car.

“I had a really nice time last night,” she said as Jeremy leaned into the window.

“Me too.”

Impulsively she gave him a quick kiss on the lips.

“Eliza and Jeremy sitting in a tree.
K-I-S-S-I . . .,
” Madison began to chant.

“Shush!” Eliza said, putting a hand on the girl’s mouth. But she gave Jeremy a warm smile.

“I’ll see you later,” she said with a lopsided grin.

“Later.” He bowed a little at the waist and walked back toward the garden.

* * *

Eliza hustled the kids to their usual spot on Main Beach near the lifeguard section. They didn’t have proper bathrooms at Two Mile Hollow, and that had ended up being a bit of a problem the other day. The kids were running wild, and Eliza was so bummed to be on solo babysitting duty today.

But just a few paces ahead was Mara. Good old Mara. She was wearing awfully big sunglasses and nursing a Gatorade, but she was there. Lord be praised.

“About time you guys got here,” Mara said, taking Cody out of his stroller and giving him a little tickle.

“What happened to you! You looked like you were at death’s door this morning,” Eliza said.

“I was, I was. But Ryan made me this great hangover remedy—Worcestershire sauce and egg yolk.”

Eliza made a face. “Ew.”

“I know, but it worked. I don’t have a headache anymore, but I’m still so dehydrated,” Mara said, taking another gulp.

“How’d you get here so fast?”

“Ryan drove me.”

“Of course,” Eliza wanted to say, but held her tongue. Mara was so weird about the whole Ryan situation, and Eliza didn’t want to make her feel self-conscious about it.

Mara took the baby by the shore, and Eliza and the others followed.

“C’mon Cody, just a few more steps. It won’t hurt, c’mon, I got you.”

Cody followed Mara tentatively, but screamed and ran away as the waves crashed.

“It’s no use. The kid is never going to learn to swim,” Mara sighed. “Cody! Come on! Look, it’s fun!” she said, splashing the water.

“I saw Jeremy this morning—he was so cute! He helped me put all the kids in the car. And we were looking all scruffy . . .,” Eliza said dreamily.
Since when do I say things like “scruffy”?
she wondered dreamily. “He was wearing the cutest overalls. Did you see?”

“Enough! I’m already about to vomit,” Mara joked. She was in a lot better mood after seeing Ryan that morning—they’d acted
like everything was normal, which made it feel pretty, well, normal. She could even forgive Eliza’s indiscretions last night. No one was perfect, and Mara was sure Eliza didn’t really mean half the things she said. Look at how she glowed whenever she said Jeremy’s name.

“You’re so mean!” Eliza pouted. “I finally find a guy I really like and I can’t even tell you about all the cute things he did!”

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