Caitlin (9 page)

“You don’t have to hang around while I feed the munchkins,” Michael said.

We were sitting at a table in the food court while his brothers scarfed down cheese dogs — which were basically corn dogs except they had cheese instead of meat inside. Quite honestly, they were gross, almost as bad as the blue hot dogs.

“What are friends for?” I asked. According to the test I’d taken, I was supposed to say something else that hinted that I wanted to be more than friends. But I couldn’t remember what it was. Maybe
because being this close to Michael was distracting. He really had the most mesmerizing eyes. I always thought of blue eyes as being gorgeous. But his were so different that I couldn’t stop staring at them.

He’d taken his sunglasses off before we’d hit the rides. He’d gone to his guest locker to get some money, but the sunglasses were back where I’d left my things by the lounge chair. Fortunately, the table we were sitting at had an umbrella that provided shade.

“I’m supposed to stay at Tsunami if I don’t want to follow them around. So they can find me easily.” He grimaced. “And it’s the place Mom worries about the most so she never wants them playing there without me watching them. I guess I’m lucky it was just hunger pains and not something serious that had my name being announced across the park.”

At least now I knew why he hung around Tsunami. I’d started to think that maybe I was the attraction. I really needed to stop
giving myself so much credit for attracting guys. “My granddad is always telling me not to borrow trouble. You should take his advice. Nothing bad happened. So we can hang out with them —”

“You’re going to hang out with us?” one of the twins asked.

“Only if we stop at the tattoo booth and get your names tattooed on your foreheads so I know who is who.”

The boys giggled. I really couldn’t tell them apart.

“But it’s your day off. You watch kids all week,” Michael said.

“I don’t play with them.” Then I remembered that old Shakespeare saying about protesting too much. “Unless you don’t want me hanging around.”

“No, that’d be great. Seriously.”

“Can we go on the forbidden rides then?” one of the twins asked.

I laughed. “The forbidden rides?”

“The red rides,” Michael said. “They’re not allowed on the red rides.”

The park had a rating system. Each slide, tube, or ride had a border around its sign to indicate the thrill level. Green was mild — - slow and easy. Yellow was moderate — a little faster, some turns, a rush. Red was warning — fast, high, drops, dips, strong swimmers only, screams anticipated.

“We’ll do one,” Michael said. “Then we’ll see how you feel after that.” He looked at me. “So what would be a good starter ride for boys who want to experience an adrenaline high?”

*  *  *

We headed to Whirlpool — after we had the twins’ names tattooed on their arms in a medieval-looking font. The temporary tattoo booth provided water-resistant tattoos, so they lasted a little longer than regular face painting.

“This is awesome,” Tony said.

“I’m not going to scream,” Tommy said. He looked at me. “Will you scream?”

“Definitely.”

The boys were cute and having them
with us chased away any awkwardness that Michael and I might have felt while we were waiting in line. Of course, having them around also stopped him from holding my hand. Probably because he didn’t want to hear them singing about us sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S …

But it was a little hard not to think about kissing him.

He was nice and so patient with his brothers. I think I’d taken a test once that gave boys points for being nice to kids and dogs. It reflected their true inner self or something. Maybe I was relying on tests too much. Maybe I should just go with my gut instinct.

The line didn’t move too slowly since it was loading four people at a time. The slowest ones loaded only one person at a time.

“You know, if I built a water park, I think I’d make it all elevators, escalators, and moving walkways,” Michael said.

“But then we’d all be out of shape and
we wouldn’t have the lung capacity for a great scream when we went down the slides,” I teased.

He grinned. He really had a terrific grin. “Good point. And we need those screams.”

When we got to the top, all four of us hopped into the four-person inner tube — - which reminded me a lot of a four-leaf clover. Michael was beside me. His arm brushed mine. I smiled at him.
Show you’re interested. Smile if his hand grazes over yours.
The test had said something like that. I figured an arm brushing against mine was even better.

Then we were plummeting down the slide and I wasn’t thinking about grazing hands or brushing arms. I was just thinking about holding on for dear life.

The twins loved it, loved it, loved it. They wanted to do Screaming Falls next so we got in line for that ride. The line was even longer than before.

“Don’t you have a cut-to-the-front-of-the-line pass or something?” Michael asked.

I shook my head.

“There must be some benefits to working here.”

I almost said, “I met you.” But how corny was that? And even though I was thinking that maybe Whitney and Robyn were right and I shouldn’t judge Michael based on Tanner, I also worried that maybe he was too nice. Were some guys really this nice?

“Well, hey you!” Jasmine said with a big grin when we got to the top of the slide. She pushed Michael’s shoulder as though she was used to getting personal with him. “About time you came to see me.”

Had he known this was the slide she worked at? Was that the reason that he’d wanted to come here? I had a strong urge to step forward and say, “He’s with me.”

But he wasn’t really
with
me. We were just hanging out together.

“Why don’t you go first?” Michael suggested to me. “Then the twins can go. That way someone they know is waiting down there for them.”

“Sure.” His suggestion made me feel important. Like he trusted me. I smiled at Jasmine right before I stepped into the booth. I crossed my arms over my chest, watched as Michael and Jasmine talked and laughed while she kept touching him. I wanted to scream —

And then I was screaming, for real. The floor had dropped out and I was rushing down the slide. I hit the water, bounced back to the surface. I swam to the side where a lifeguard helped me climb out.

“Hey, don’t you work here?” he asked.

“Yeah. Day off.”

“Man, why would you hang around here?”

The truth was that I no longer knew.

*  *  *

“Are you okay?” Michael asked.

We were floating in inner tubes along the Sometimes Raging Rapids. The twins
needed to take it easy for a while after the exhilarating rides. They were up ahead of us in their own tubes. Michael and I were holding hands — so we stayed together. Otherwise, we had little control over where the tubes went.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure, because you seem —”

“Okay, did you know Jasmine was working that ride?”

“What? No.”

“Are you seeing her?”

He looked surprised. Which I thought was a good thing. Unless it was fake.

“It’s hard not to see her when she’s standing right there.”

I groaned. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I guess I do, and no, I’m not.”

The only thing worse than multiple questions are multiple answers, because now I had to back up and attach them to the questions.

“Are you jealous?” he asked.

“No.” I said that too quickly and loudly. That old protesting-too-much thing.

Grinning, he dipped my hand in the water and pulled me closer until out tubes bumped. I wasn’t sure why, but he suddenly seemed very happy.

After we finished going around the park twice in the meandering river — not taking the roaring rapids detour either time — - Michael and his brothers had to leave. I was disappointed, but I needed alone time to do some serious thinking.

When we got back to the lounge area, Michael slipped on his Birks.

“Thanks for hanging around with us today,” he said.

“Sure. I had fun.”

It looked as though he wanted to say something else, but then the twins started singing the only song it seemed like they knew, the song about Michael and me.

Michael swung around. “I’m gonna kill you guys!”

They shrieked and ran off toward the entrance.

“No running!” I yelled after them automatically.

Chuckling, Michael turned back to me. “I’d better go. See you later tonight.”

“Right.” The team meeting. I wasn’t dreading it any longer.

I watched him walk away. Then I sat on my lounge chair and stretched out. My tummy was feeling a little tight. I looked down. Did I get sunburned?

“Where have you been all day?” Robyn asked as she and Whitney came to stand over me. They were eating ice cream, which unfortunately made me think about Jasmine.

“And whose Birks were snuggling with your flip-flops?” Whitney asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Well, yeah, that’s why I asked.” Whitney sat on the foot of my lounge chair so I had to pull my legs back.

Robyn sat on the lounge chair beside me. “So really, who was it?”

I glanced around. “You can’t say anything.”

“Geez, what is he? A spy or something? James Bond?” Whitney asked.

I scowled at her. “No, it’s just that it’s all new and it might not be anything and I don’t want to jinx it if it is.”

“Sounds serious,” Whitney said.

“That’s just it.” I couldn’t keep the frustration out of my voice. “I don’t know if it’s serious. But it probably isn’t. He was flirting with another girl so —”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, back up,” Robyn said. “First of all, who’s the guy?”

“Michael Romeo.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Oh.”

“Well, what do you know? I am matchmeup dot com. I get credit for this matchup,” Whitney said.

“You know, Whitney, it’s not always about you.”

“Of course it is.”

I shook my head. Why did I even like her?

“No, seriously,” Whitney said. “What happened? Did you take a tube ride through the Tunnel of Love?”

“No. We watched his brothers most of the day.”

“You babysat? Where’s the romance in that?” She sounded appalled.

“That’s just it. I don’t know if there’s any romance. We were just hanging out together. Quite honestly, I think our shoes got closer together than we did.”

“Nothing wrong with taking it slow,” Robyn said. “Especially if he’s flirting with someone else. What was that about?”

I told them about Jasmine.

“I should kick her off the team,” Whitney said.

“No,” I said. “He either likes me or he doesn’t.”

“I think you just have all these doubts because of Tanner,” Robyn said.

“Probably.”

“Want some ice cream?” Robyn asked, holding her cup of strawberry toward me.

“Well, it is Carpenter Ant Awareness Week.”

Robyn laughed while I took a bite of her ice cream. It was so good. How could I stay glum with wicked ice cream melting in my mouth? Robyn never went for the sugar-free because she didn’t see the point. If she was going to be bad, she was going to be bad all the way. Of course, she wasn’t a calorie magnet like I was.

“What are you talking about? Carpenter ants?” Whitney asked.

“I ration my sugar intake by only eating sweet stuff on holidays.”

“You, my friend, are mental.”

She moved to her own lounge chair and stretched out like a contented cat.

“Seriously,” Robyn said in a low voice, “don’t project Tanner onto Michael.”

Part of our health class last year dealt
with mental health. Robyn had loved it, so she sometimes talked like a psychiatrist or something.

“Michael seems really nice,” she added.

Yeah, he did.

Now I just had to figure out what that meant for me.

Since we had a late meeting, we headed home to eat and change clothes. Sean was bringing us back and attending the meeting because he was “special” — or at least he was according to Robyn. And he was our ride.

I thought we probably could have gotten Whitney to give us a ride in her chauffeur-driven limo but I really didn’t have a problem with Sean being there. It wasn’t as if we were some secret group, doing something we weren’t supposed to do. Besides, he’d already designed the advertisement that they’d put on the Paradise Falls Web site about our exciting Fourth of July Extravaganza and
light show. It probably wouldn’t hurt for him to see exactly what we were getting.

I was wearing a denim skirt, red top, and heeled sandals. I’d used a styling gel so my hair spiked here and there. It didn’t look punk. I just didn’t want it totally flat.

Sean was in black jeans and a black T-shirt, but he always wore black when he wasn’t working.

During the week my curfew was eleven, but this was a business meeting. Mom made an exception. So did Robyn’s mom. Sean and I picked Robyn up on our way back to the water park. She was wearing blue capris and a flowing tie-dyed T-shirt. I felt a little overdressed, but all Michael had ever seen me in was my bathing suit.

I didn’t want to care about what he thought, but I did.

It was eerie when we got to Paradise Falls. Lights were on in the parking lot, but the lot was almost deserted except for a couple of cars, a truck, an SUV, and the white limo. Sean parked in the front row as
close to the gate entrance as he could get. Except for the cars streaking by on the nearby expressway, everything was really quiet.

“This is creepy,” Robyn whispered.

“I know,” I whispered back. “I’ve never been here this late.”

“Why are y’all whispering?” Sean asked in a voice that was almost a shout because everything else was so quiet.

“Just seems like we should,” I said as we headed to the gate.

Sean swiped his card, the gate unlocked, and we all walked through.

“Evening,” the guard announced.

I nearly leaped out of my skin, but at least I didn’t release a little cry like Robyn did. Sean chuckled low.

If they weren’t seeing each other, I think he might have given her a hard time.

The parrot brawked as we walked by. I jumped, but since only a few lights were on, I didn’t think anyone noticed.

As we headed to Tsunami, it was like
strolling along a neighborhood street. A little light, a lot of shadows. I could see, though, that Sean and Robyn were holding hands. It made me wish that I had someone to hold my hand.

“There you are!” Whitney called out when we were nearer to Tsunami. “I didn’t think you were ever going to get here.”

I saw Jake standing near Whitney. I groaned when I saw Jasmine. She was standing at the water’s edge, away from everyone else. She was wearing really short shorts and a halter top. Suddenly, I was second-guessing what I’d decided to wear. Was it obvious that I wanted to impress Michael? And would he even notice when Jasmine looked like a tropical island girl?

“So where’s Lights Fantastic?” I asked.

“They’re setting up some stuff. I don’t think it’s going to be as spectacular as I thought,” Whitney said. “There’s just going to be a couple of lights and his dad is going to look around, do measuring, get a feel for the place.”

“I think it’s good that we’re here,” Robyn said, obviously trying to make Whitney feel better about wasting our time. “It’s important for the team to be involved.”

“That’s what I thought,” Whitney said.

“It’s really strange when there aren’t a lot of people around,” I said.

“I like it,” Whitney said. “I wonder what would happen if we built a fire on the sand like they do on a real beach.”

“The fire marshal would fine us,” Sean said.

“Mr. Practicality,” Whitney teased.

At least I thought she was teasing. She never seemed upset with my brother. He was never upset with her either, even when she did things she wasn’t supposed to do. He made excuses for her. He never did that for me.

Green lights suddenly shot up into the sky like a spotlight.

“Oh, awesome!” Jasmine yelled out.

I wished I’d yelled a compliment. It wasn’t like me to be so unsure. But between
Tanner dumping me, and Trent getting after me for the little things, I was feeling bruised.

The lights circled around, crossed each other. They went down, up. It was as though they were following actors on a stage that no one else could see. Then they went out. Show over.

“Is that it?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Whitney said. “They said it wouldn’t take long.”

“We drove all the way back over here for this?”

“What did you want? The real light show?” Whitney asked.

“I wanted more than two towers of light.”

“Oh, there’s going to be more,” Whitney said.

She said it as though she was holding something back — which, knowing Whitney, she probably was. She was the princess of surprises.

I heard a scraping sound. Someone was walking along the pool border where the lifeguard stations were. Even though he was only in silhouette, I recognized Michael.

The identification was confirmed when Jasmine raced over to him. “That was just really, really awesome.”

“Thanks,” I heard him say.

The sound of someone walking over sand caught my attention. This silhouette was tall, broad.

“I’ve got everything I need,” he said in a really deep voice.

“Thanks, Mr. Romeo,” Whitney said.

“You kids have fun.” He started walking off.

“Have fun doing what?” I asked.

“Didn’t I tell you?” Whitney asked. “We’re going to Puttin’ Around.”

*  *  *

Puttin’ Around had a miniature golf course and entertainment area. It was located near Paradise Falls. As a matter of fact, a lot
of people spent the day at Paradise Falls, then just headed over to Puttin’ Around for more fun and games because they stayed open later.

We all arrived in our separate vehicles and met at the front door. As we walked in, I realized that it had been a while since I’d been here. I’d forgotten how loud the noise was from the video arcade room. Another area had pool tables. On one side of the building was the pizza area. At the back of the building, a short hallway led to a door that opened out onto the miniature golf course.

As Whitney started walking toward the back, I asked, “We’re really going to play golf?”

She turned to me. “Well, yeah. Don’t you play?”

“Sure.”

“Great. My dad’s paying.”

She walked up to the counter to get her club and ball.

“Do you think her dad is real?” I whispered to Robyn.

“Of course.”

I wasn’t so sure.

A few minutes later as I stood on the green with my club and blue ball, I realized that Whitney hadn’t really considered the logistics. We were an odd number, so we couldn’t really play teams.

“Romeo and I can be partners,” Jasmine said, winking at him.

“I don’t think we need partners,” I said. “We have enough equipment to go around.”

“There are two courses,” Whitney said. “So Robyn, Sean, Jake, and I will take that course over there and everyone else gets the other course. Okay? Great.”

She started walking away. Jake followed. Robyn looked at me with an expression that said, “What do I do?”

I waved her on. Part of me wanted to go inside and find a violent video game. But I
wasn’t going to leave Jasmine out here with Michael. He was mine. Kind of. But nothing was official, so I understood why he didn’t shove Jasmine aside. It would have been rude. He wasn’t rude.

“So who goes first?” Jasmine asked.

“My dad taught me that ladies always go first,” Michael said.

“We’re not ladies,” Jasmine said.

“Girls. Close enough,” I said. “But when my family plays miniature golf, we’re all equal. So here’s what we do.” I took them over to the putting green. “We all hit our ball against that wall, and the one whose ball rolls back and lands closest to the tee line goes first.”

“Sounds fair,” Michael said, a challenge in his eyes.

I had a feeling that he played a lot — just like I did.

My theory proved correct when Jasmine’s ball didn’t even hit the wall, but Michael’s and mine came close to being even. I was just a fraction ahead.

So I went first, and sunk a hole in one. And I was feeling pretty confident when I picked up my ball from where it rolled through a tunnel to the second hole. But when I turned back and saw Michael teaching Jasmine how to hold the club, my heart sank.

The competition here didn’t involve strokes. It was all about who could keep Michael’s attention. If Jasmine was really as dumb about golf as she was acting, I’d eat my miniature golf ball.

Seven strokes later, she still hadn’t managed to sink the ball. But she was sure having a good time, laughing about how uncoordinated she was.

“Uh, hate to be a bad sport here,” I said, “but we usually play five-stroke limit.”

“What does that mean?” Jasmine asked.

“If you can’t get the ball in the hole in five strokes, you move on to the next hole.”

“That doesn’t seem fair.”

“Well, the thing is, there are usually people waiting to play so you don’t want to
slow down the movement over the course,” I explained.

She looked behind her. “There’s no one waiting for the course. If you want to go ahead, go ahead. You don’t have to wait on us.”

No way was I going on by myself.

“Caitlin’s right, Jasmine. We don’t want to slow the game down and it’s always more fun if you have some competition, so five strokes.” He wrote the number down on the card and handed it to her so he could putt his ball in — even though he should have gone second.

It took him two strokes.

“Not bad,” I said.

“Do you play a lot?” he asked.

“Oh, yeah, my dad is really into miniature golf. On family vacations, we always hit at least one golf course.” I lined up my shot —

“You’re not aiming it at the hole,” Jasmine said.

“Because I’m going to hit it off the wall first,” I told her. The location of the hole,
the obstacle of a short wall with two holes on either end presented a challenge. But I persevered. Two shots later, I was again standing there watching the Jasmine Show.

I turned my attention to Michael. He was so patient with her. I liked that about him. That he took care of his brothers, helped his dad, and didn’t seem to mind that Jasmine had to be shown what to do at every hole. Or was he pretending, too? Liking the attention she gave him.

Maybe I
should
just go ahead
, I thought, because it was painful to watch her performance.

I realized it
was
a performance when we finally got to the sixteenth hole. It was a complicated setup with a narrow bridge going over a small river of rushing water and then through a little windmill tunnel where the fan was inside the tunnel so if I didn’t time it just right, it knocked the ball back out. Five strokes and I couldn’t get the shot I needed to drop the ball in the hole. Same thing for Michael. We both laughed at the
toughness of it. Had a bonding moment, because we both realized it was a really challenging hole.

Then Jasmine went. Two shots. Over the bridge. Through the tunnel. The ball landed in the hole.

She squealed and threw her arms around Michael, hugging him. I couldn’t help but think the whole game had been an act, waiting for the one minute when she could hug him.

What made it really bad was that I wanted to hug him — and shove her into the river.

When we finished our eighteen holes, we headed for the pizza shop.

“You’re really good,” Michael said to me.

“Thanks.”

“My brothers and I play a lot,” he said.

“I could tell you were a pro.”

“Not really,” he said, grinning. “No one pays me to play.”

When we got to the pizza shop, our other group was already there. Three chairs were at the end of the table, and Michael ended
up sitting between Jasmine and me. It was awkward. I didn’t want to play her game. So I just ate my pizza and talked to the others. I was glad when the pizza was gone and we decided it was time to go home.

I didn’t think Michael was interested in Jasmine, but I wasn’t completely sure he was interested in me either. How could a girl be sure what a guy was thinking?