Forbidden Boy (12 page)

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On her bike ride home, Julianne didn’t put on her iPod or even notice the familiar Palisades faces that waved hello as she rode by. She was still too preoccupied with Remi and their cryptic conversation. Why should it even matter to her what his intentions were? No matter how good his ideas about art were, no matter how insightful he was, he was still the enemy. But he seemed to understand something that she’d never been able to articulate to anyone else. Jules tapped her fingers on the handle-bars as she glided along, trying to puzzle it out. She wished her mom were here to help her make sense of the confusion. Her mother had always been so good at taking something and breaking it down into parts, turning it into something totally usable. Julianne had always

assumed that was why she was such a good painter. She could isolate light, isolate space, isolate movement, polish them all, and then snap them back into place where they belonged. Jules had always been messier. She didn’t re-create the things she saw around her; she broke them up and twisted them into new angles. Was that what she was doing with Remi—trying to make him into something else entirely because she wanted him to be something good? Her brain spinning and her stomach twisting, Julianne rode up to the house. She sat for a long moment staring up at her front door and wondered if it would be possible for her to ever find the middle ground, instead of the horizon.

Julianne climbed the stairs and walked directly past her bedroom, right into Chloe’s. Flopping down on her sister’s red flowered Marimekko comforter, she announced, “I give up!”

Chloe, who had been sitting at her desk filling out her daily log for her internship at the Children’s Hospital, immediately snapped to attention. She popped out of her rolling chair and dove onto the bed, practically landing on top of Julianne.

“Tell me everything! What did he do? Oh, Jules, I knew he was bad news! So, what’s the deal? Are they selling the property and moving to Iceland? They’re not going to move out and sell it to some business, are they? That house is just ugly enough to have potential as a casino.”

“No, it’s not like that,” Julianne hedged. “I had a lot of time to think about it at work today, and I feel like some pieces are starting to come together.”

“What, what, what?” Chloe wheedled. “Is all of their building money embezzled? Can we call the IRS and shut them down? It’s major, isn’t it? I can just feel that it’s major! Don’t leave a sister hanging here!”

“I think we might be operating under slightly different definitions of ‘major,’ Chloe,” Julianne prefaced, before switching gears altogether. “Oh, I don’t even know. I had this really weird conversation with Remi at work today and now …” She paused, burying her head in a pillow. “I’m so confused!”

“What a jerk! Jules, you can’t let him get to you.”

Chloe poked Julianne in the side playfully, but Julianne didn’t even giggle. “C’mon, Debbie Downer—cheer up!”

Chloe grabbed a throw pillow from the head of her bed and pressed it against her chest, like she was trying to squeeze answers out of the satin-covered down. “I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation for Remi giving you a hard time. Maybe he’s an alien. No, wait; I’ve got it—they’re plowing down the beach to make a puppy farm where they’re actually going to kick all of the puppies. That’s got to be it. It’s evil—pure evil. And now P.E.T.A. is closing in on them!” Julianne knew that Chloe was mostly kidding, but she couldn’t handle the Moore-bashing any longer. It was exhausting. Chloe studied her sister’s face. “What’s wrong? Jules, are you okay? You don’t look—”

“I’m just not sure he’s such a bad guy after all,” Julianne blurted out. “I think it’s all just kind of … messy.”

“Oh, Jules.” Chloe sighed like a deflating beach ball.

“Of
course
he’s a bad guy. Look what they’re doing next door.”

“That’s the thing, though,” Julianne continued. “We had this talk at work today, and he was showing definite, concrete signs of having a soul. I think he may just be going along with his family because they’re his family.

Plus, his family seems kind of rough. His dad showed up at the site last week, and you wouldn’t believe the things he was saying to Remi! He was awful. I have no doubt that his dad is a destroyer of all that is good, but I just don’t think Remi’s the same way. He said these
things
, Chloe, about making something meaningful and bigger than him that just felt really … true.”

“Yeah, but philosophical differences and parental pressures aside here, Jules, he’s still going along.

Whether he’s heart-and-soul on board or not, his loyalty is still with his family. What’s your deal, Jules? I mean, I know you guys, like, had a moment at the Malibu party, but that was ages ago! Besides, what prompted this heart-to-heart anyway? It sounds totally manipulative, if you ask me. If I were you, I’d watch your back. He absolutely, positively can’t be trusted.”

“Watch my back? What do you think he’s going to do, impale me with a solar panel? Don’t you think you’re being a bit melodramatic?” As soon as the words were out of Julianne’s mouth, she realized how silly she’d been acting, sneaking around, spying on Remi.

Julianne just didn’t know how to explain her mixed feelings to Chloe.

“I’m not being melodramatic. I’m just being cautious,” Chloe explained, choosing her words very precisely. “Did Dad tell you that Remi’s parents were over here the other day while you were out painting?”

“No!” Julianne’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline and she felt a cold sweat break out along her collarbone.

“What did they want?”

“This is what I’m trying to tell you!” Chloe exclaimed, as though she were talking to a confused child. “We really can’t trust these people. They offered to buy our house and the land from Dad. They were really, really pushy about it. Calling it an ‘offer’ is pretty gener-ous.”

“No way!” Julianne gasped again, the intake of breath sharper this time. “They didn’t threaten Dad or anything, did they?”

“Nope, but they did basically everything but,” Chloe said in a conspiratorial whisper. “It was more of a strong-arm than an offer. I mean, obviously Dad didn’t cave, but they were really all over him.”

“Oh God.” Julianne breathed out a long, slow whistle. She closed her eyes. “Still, I really don’t think Remi’s like that, though.”

“I wouldn’t let my guard down if I were you,” Chloe insisted. “These are the people who raised him. Just keep that in the back of your mind, okay?”

“I just don’t understand why everything has to be so us-versus-them all the time,” Julianne pressed, standing up and pacing across the room toward Chloe’s massive oak bookshelves. She trailed her fingers across the rows of alphabetized spines, comforting herself with their familiar texture.

“Because that’s what it is, Jules. This is definitively an us-versus-them situation. They want to do something completely self-serving that will really hurt us. We want to stop them. That’s sort of what ‘us versus them’ means.

There’s no way to be neutral here. You can’t compromise—you can’t be on both teams!” Chloe’s face was darkening.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Julianne agreed, flopping onto the mattress and sinking back into the cushy nest of pillows on Chloe’s bed. “You’re one hundred percent right.” Julianne knew she should actually feel as confident in her sister’s assessment of the situation as she was pretending to. Chloe had an annoying little habit of always being right about everything. Still, Julianne couldn’t get over the nagging feeling that there was much more to Remi Moore than his family. She cocked her head toward her sister before getting up and walking out of the room. It didn’t matter what she said about Remi; Chloe’s mind was made up, and there would be no convincing her. Julianne walked into her own room and clicked the door shut behind her.

Julianne excitedly pushed her small cart over the bright purple carpeting lining the aisles of Palisades Design. Other than the beach, there was no place she’d rather be on a beautiful day than stocking up on art supplies—especially with no supervision and a company credit card. That morning, Bill had called her aside and told her that the owners of the eco-house had asked for another new design concept. Apparently, they wanted a local artist to hand paint ivy in the courtyard. Julianne was still beaming that Bill had suggested her.

As Jules cruised through the aisles of Palisades Design, she was beside herself. What could be better than an entire store devoted to art supplies? She tossed a few different colors of green paint for the ivy walls into her cart, and was checking out a terra cotta stain when she noticed a familiar ponytail bouncing across the aisle in front of her.

“Lucy! Hey!” Julianne said, tossing the stain into her cart for further consideration and dashing down the aisle to greet her friend. Even though Lucy’s back was turned as she made her way up the scrapbooking aisle, Julianne instantly recognized her by her red hair, freckled arms, compact frame, and regulation Mean Bean work T-shirt.

Julianne hadn’t seen her in ages. During the school year, they ran into each other all the time. Lucy worked at the Mean Bean, Julianne’s favorite Palisades coffee shop, and occasionally contributed a comic strip to the
Cliffview
, the school arts magazine that Jules co-edited.

Since Julianne’s failed attempt to track Lucy down at the Malibu beach party where she’d met Remi, though, they hadn’t seen each other once this summer.

“Oh my God, Jules! Long time no see!” Lucy squealed, running over to hug her friend. “Have you been in hibernation, or what? It’s been forever!

Ohmygod, how’s Kat? Has she run with the bulls yet?”

Lucy looked great. Her summer tan brought out the sparkle in her green eyes, and she had paired her black work T-shirt (which Julianne actually loved for its logo of two dueling coffee beans) with a pair of skinny gray jeans and slip-on Vans printed with hearts, stars, rainbows, and skulls. Lucy took a step back to appraise Julianne.

“You look awesome, babe.”

“Thanks! You too.” Julianne laughed. “Kat’s doing great. She’s in Madrid, though, not Pamplona. And I’m pretty sure she’d stay inside if she did see a bull, but it sounds like she’s having the time of her life. How’s your summer going?”

“Oh, it’s been great.” Lucy grinned. “Some work, some surfing, some partying. It’s a nice combo. It would be better, though”—she paused dramatically and affected a stern look—“if we ever
saw
you. You need to come out sometime. You haven’t been by the Bean once, and I haven’t seen you at Fishtail, either.” Fishtail was one of Pacific Palisades’ many outdoor cafés, but it was a favorite among Julianne’s friends because of its boardwalk seating, live music, and notoriously lax carding policies. “Lady, we’ve missed you!”

“I know! I’ve missed you guys, too. The summer has just been really … intense so far,” Julianne finished thoughtfully.

“Well,
good
intense or
bad
intense?” Lucy queried, leaning against a shelf full of glitter letters as she awaited Julianne’s answer.

“I mean,
mainly
good,” Julianne decided as she said it. “I have this awesome job—I’m doing building and design stuff for this cool new eco-friendly house being built near downtown,” she explained. “I’m actually doing a huge mural for the courtyard, starting today,”

she explained, gesturing toward her cart of art supplies.

“I get to hang outside, paint,
and
”—she paused for dramatic effect, the way Chloe did whenever she referred to Julianne’s job—“I’m the only girl on an entire crew of guys!”

“Sweet!” Lucy giggled. “The Bean could use a serious infusion of testosterone. We’re, like, seventy-five percent female this summer. It’s crazy. I mean, everyone’s great, but it isn’t exactly a breeding ground for love.” Lucy rolled her green eyes playfully. “Speaking of love …

spill, Kahn. Tell me everything.”

“Sorry to disappoint, Luce, but there really isn’t much to tell.” Julianne shrugged.

“Fibber!”
Lucy practically shrieked. “We don’t see you all summer and there’s no guy involved? There’s no way.”

“Fine.” Julianne laughed grudgingly. “There may kind of be someone. I mean, sort of. A little.”

“That’s more like it. Details, please,” Lucy prodded.

“Okay, so I met this guy, and he seemed really great,”

Jules started.

“At work?” Lucy asked.

“Well, sort of. I mean, I didn’t meet him at work, but it turns out he’s at work.” Julianne chewed her lower lip ever so slightly as she spoke.

“That sounds complicated.” Lucy pulled a tube of cherry ChapStick out of the pocket of her jeans and applied it liberally.

“Yeah, that’s the whole thing. And there’s stuff going on with his family, and with
my
family, and who knows if it can even work …” Julianne could feel her voice rising with each word.

“But you like him, right?” Lucy gave Julianne a knowing grin.

“Oh my God, Luce, he’s amazing. He’s beyond fantastic. He’s into architecture, so he’s kind of artistic. And he just totally gets what I love so much about
my
art.

And he’s funny and thoughtful and, oh man, so, so hot.” Julianne felt the corners of her mouth creeping up into a smile as she reached into her bag for her Nalgene and took a drink.

“Well then, that’s the important part.” Lucy was full-on smiling now. “If you’re meant for each other, all the pieces will come together somehow. That’s all. That’s just how it is. No worries.” She squeezed Julianne’s hand. Julianne smiled back at her, feeling relieved and thrilled that someone had finally given her the green light to like Remi. “Anyway, I should probably head out,” Lucy said, looking at her old-school oversize Swatch watch. “It’s free-smoothie-sample day at the Bean, and they need all the help they can get.” She hugged Julianne goodbye, grabbed some scrapbooking pages off the wall hooks, and headed back down the aisle before turning and calling back, “Hey, you should bring this mystery guy out with us sometime. Or, you know, at least bring yourself.
Call me!
”

Julianne decided to stop at home before heading back to the site, just to pick up her camera and her favorite paintbrushes. She preferred working with brushes that she already liked the feel of, plus she wanted her camera to document her progress on the mural for her portfolio. Julianne burst through the door of her house like a husband in a ’50s sitcom.