Front Page Face-Off (8 page)

Jenner and I grabbed our beach bags and trudged toward a big painted banner that read
twilight surf
in sickly green letters. Once the sun went down, the paint would make the words glow in the dark, like miniature moons.

Twilight Surf was the annual opportunity for the seventh graders at Brighton to mingle with the students from their next stage of learning, Woodcliff Finishing School. Naturally, there was a surfing competition, but there were also bonfires, barbecues, and plenty of chances to be seen. Several girls had already set up their beach gear near the lifeguard stand where the Woodcliff guys hung out.

“Where should we go?” I asked Jenner.

“Well, I have to sign in for the competition first.” She pointed to her parents' surf shop, Jenner's Bay, where a line of teenage guys and girls flowed out the door and onto the sand. “Do you want to come with me?”

I slid on my sunglasses to block the last rays of light and glanced around. “I think I'm going to see if I can find Katie.”

Jenner nodded. “Head toward the shore. She'll probably be camped out there, waiting for turtles.”

We separated and I picked my way down the rocky slope toward the sand, checking each group of girls I passed for one with short, punky hair.

And then I saw
her.

Ava, in
another
strapless dress, was chatting up a group of girls all wearing the same T-shirt with a large pair of wings patterned on the back. She looked infuriatingly pretty with her dark hair pulled into a messy bun and her French sophistication oozing out of every pore of her body. The other girls wore flip-flops, but Ava wore high-heeled sandals. Their beach towels were simple, funky colors, but Ava's had a massive print of the Eiffel Tower.

Slowly and quietly, I lowered my bag to the ground and opened it to grab my towel. Neither Ava nor the Angels had noticed me yet, and if I set up a towel behind them, I could probably hear their entire conversation and learn Ava's plan of attack.

It would have worked, except my phone chose to blast its ringtone at that moment. I turned my back to the girls before they could see me and grabbed my things, walking toward Jenner's Bay as fast as I could. “Hello?” I whispered into the phone before Ava could discover the identity of her seaside stalker.

“Delilah?” At the sound of Ben's voice, I almost did a face plant in the sand.

“Ben! Hi!” The volume of my voice shot way past normal; I cringed and cleared my throat. “I mean … what's up?”

“Ava's following some story lead, so I'm hanging out at
Jenner's Bay. Did you want to grab a soda while I wait for her to get back?”

I would have turned cartwheels if my hands hadn't been full … and if I'd had some athletic talent. “Sure! I'm on my way now.”

I squeezed past the crowd on the shop steps and headed for the porch, where my heart momentarily stalled. Ben was leaning against the railing, looking out at the ocean. The sun highlighted his profile like a golden aura of gorgeous.

“Hey!” He reached behind him and produced two glass bottles of cola with straws. “You still like these, right?”

Old-fashioned soda was my favorite, and my skin prickled with goose bumps, knowing Ben had thought of me.

“Amazing memory,” I said, taking a big swallow.

Ben smiled even broader, and at that moment, I realized the magazine had been right. I'd paid a guy a compliment, and he'd been flattered!

I, Delilah James, was officially flirting.

With renewed confidence I smiled at Ben and flipped my hair over my shoulder. “I like your shirt, too. It … fits you well.”

“Thanks.” He looked down at himself. “I guess Ava's pretty good at choosing sizes.”

My right eye twitched at the mention of her name
and
the
fact that she was dressing him, but I flipped my hair again and kept smiling.

“I'm glad you're not still upset about the newspaper thing.” He studied my eyes, and I stared into his, unblinking.

“You're the editor,” I said, still grinning while I sipped from my straw. My cheeks were beginning to hurt from so much smiling. “You know what's best.” I did another hair flip.

Ben leaned away from me, and I leaned away from him, still maintaining eye contact and a winning smile. “Are you okay?” His eyes narrowed a bit while he studied me.

I nodded and tried to touch his arm, which was difficult to do with both of us leaning away. In the end, I swatted at his wrist with my fingertips. “Of course!” I laughed heartily to prove my point, but Ben didn't join in.

“What did they put in this?” He grabbed my soda bottle.

“Ha! You are
so
funny!” I patted his back harder than I intended as he brought the bottle up to sniff it.

Until that moment, I'd never known how far a straw could go up a boy's nose.

“Oh, my gosh!” I could barely form the words, my jaw was so stiff from smiling. “I'm really sorry!” I tried to help him, but Ben turned his back to me and waved a dismissive hand.

“It's okay. I've got it.”

I hovered behind him, glancing over my shoulder to see how many people had witnessed my failed flirting. Judging from the stares and whispers, I guessed all of them.

A second later, Ben turned back around, straw in hand, rubbing his nose. “Ta-da!” He faced the crowd, who clapped appreciatively. “Thank you. For my next trick, I'll pull a French fry out of my ear.”

Everyone laughed, except me, and Ben nudged my side. “Oh, come on. After what you just did to me, I at least deserve a smile.”

The guy was cute, funny, and sweet. At his request, I'd stick a straw up my
own
nose. Plus, it
was
pretty amusing. So, I grinned.

“No offense, but I don't think I want that straw back.”

He laughed and I joined in, but our fun was cut short by a voice hissing in my ear.

“I appear to have missed something very funny.”

Ben stepped away from me and placed the sodas on the railing. “Hey, Ava! That was quick.”

She swept past to stand between us, an arm curled around Ben's neck. “You seem to have had a more interesting time than I did.”

“Nah,” said Ben. “Just a little accident.” He pointed to his nose, and Ava cooed and clicked her tongue.

“What did that wicked girl do to you?” She held his face in her hands and kissed his nose.

I turned away, not wanting to see if he had kissed her back. “Well, thanks for keeping me company, Ben. I'm going to go find Jenner.”

Ben disentangled himself from Ava. “Come find us later, okay?” And then he was smothered again by 115 pounds of French pretension.

“Sure.” I pulled open the door to the shop. “Later.”

Jenner waited just inside, pointing out one of the huge windows overlooking the beach … and the spot where Ben and I had been standing. “
What
was that?”

I sighed and leaned against the glass, crumpling to the floor. “I don't know. I was just doing what the magazine article said.”

Jenner crouched beside me. “Which one told you to laugh like a crazy person and avoid blinking entirely?”

I gave her a pained look. “The 411 on flirting.”

Jenner sighed and patted the top of my head. “Poor, naive Delilah. Those articles are written by thirty-year-old women who share dinner conversation with their cats. They know
nothing
about romance.”

“I'm not in a romance. I've definitely made sure of that.” My phone rang again and I stood to answer it. “Hello?”

“
What
have you been doing?” Paige's nasal voice pierced
my eardrum. “You're supposed to be working on your pledge task.”

I rolled my eyes at Jenner and mouthed Paige's name. “I am,” I said into the phone. “I'm at Twilight Surf looking for Hot Stuff right now.”

“No, you're not!” was Paige's indignant reply. “You're at Jenner's Bay embarrassing yourself.”

I stared at the phone as if Paige were crawling through the earpiece. “How do you know that?”

“I can see you,” said Paige. “And by the way, you're a terrible flirt.”

“You're spying on me?” I asked in disbelief.

I crouched down, pulling Jenner with me. A quick glance around the shop revealed not a single feather, sequin, or piece of glitter to give away Paige's location. “Where are you?”

“In the bungalows by the boardwalk.”

I lifted my head to peek over the window ledge and saw Ava and Ben
still cuddling on the patio. Beyond them, I could see the beach huts, including one with a girl holding a cell phone and pair of binoculars. “You look like a stalker.”

“I've got to keep an eye on my interests.”

“Do you do this to all the pledges?”

“Just the ones I've placed bets on.”

I brought my palm to my face and tried to massage away the irritation. “
What
are you talking about?”

“One of my officers bet Juicy that you'd lose.”

I shook my head in confusion. “Who's Juicy?”

Paige exhaled a long-suffering sigh. “Let me rephrase for the fashion-impaired who have not bothered to read their fashion cards. One of my officers bet her Juicy Couture
hoodie
that you would lose.”

“So, you're spying on me to win someone's used gym clothes.” I winked at Jenner. “That seems beneath you, Paige.”

A loud banging issued from the other end of the receiver, and I could see Paige smacking her phone against the window sill. “Not funny, Delilah!”

“Okay, okay! Quit abusing your cell.”

Paige placed the phone back against her ear. “You should be thanking me instead of teasing me. I've already found Katie for you.”

I snapped up straight. “Why didn't you say so? Where is she?”

“Maybe I won't tell,” Paige said with a hint of a pout. “Maybe I'll make you find her on your own.”

I knew she wanted me to beg, but I wasn't about to give in.

“That's fine,” I said. “Because if I don't find her, you'll lose your bet … and your pride.”

Silence greeted me on the other end of the line, but I could hear Paige breathing into the phone. I glanced out the window, where I could see her watching me, arms crossed.

“Fine,” she said flatly. “Katie's down at the main bonfire.”

“Thank you.”

“And take someone else to the social on Saturday. Ben's lame!”

The line went dead, and Paige closed the curtains of her window with a vicious jerk.

I returned the phone to my pocket and turned to Jenner, who just shook her head. “You know this whole situation is insane and
so
not worth it.”

Her judgmental look had returned, soon to be followed by a talk about being true to myself. “Is it really any different than what you're doing?” I gestured to the line of surfers. “I'm competing for a title, and you're competing for a title. Which, by the way, is happening
when
?”

It was
the
most obvious change of subject but the easiest way to drop the issue.

Jenner hesitated and frowned before finally answering, “I'm going at six-thirty. You have half an hour.”

I squeezed her shoulders and sprinted out of the shop, pushing past Ben and Ava as they stepped onto the beach. As I got closer to the bonfire, I slowed my pace and smoothed my clothes. So far nobody had commented on my lack of appropriate beach attire, but the entire group gathered there wore nothing more formal than bathing suits. Compared to them, I might as well have been wearing an evening gown.

Around the bonfire the cliques separated themselves with barriers of boys. I spotted Katie and several Hot Stuff girls wedged between a few jocks on one side and a few smotties on the other.

“I'm just soooo busy with parties and new members and NFP,” I heard her saying. “My social calendar is
full
until November.”

“Hi, Katie?” I lowered myself to the sand beside her. My rule of approaching divas was the same as my rule for approaching strange dogs—always stay at their eye level. Divas hated for anyone to tower above them.

Katie half glanced in my direction, annoyed at the interruption. “Do I know you?”

“Delilah James.” I held out my hand. “Lead reporter for the
Brighton Bugle
.”

She didn't so much as wag a pinky in my direction. “I thought Ava Piquet was the lead reporter.”

My fists clenched involuntarily and I hid them behind my back. “We're … sharing the position, actually.”

Katie said nothing as she kicked sand onto the fire, which hissed and receded.

“So,” I said, “I was hoping you might be interested in doing an interview for the school paper?”

Katie glanced at the girl to her right. “What's our current media coverage?”