My Fake Summer Boyfriend (2 page)

"It
's just a bit musty from being closed up all winter," said Mom, who had come in right behind me. "We'll get all the windows open and let in some fresh air."

"That won
't help," I muttered. I unlocked one of the windows and tried to open it. It didn't budge. I tried again, grunting with the effort. Still nothing. I hammered upward at it with the palms of my hands. It opened a crack. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead. The back of my blouse was damp. I groaned. "We'll suffocate in here."

"Maybe opening the windows is a job for your father," Mom
said. She reached for her purse on the kitchen counter and pulled out the envelope with the scribbles and read from it. "Little's Store. It's across the street and six doors down." She handed me a pile of change. "I think that's enough to get some soda. Why don't you pick up a carton at Little's? We can do the rest of our shopping in town once we get settled in here."

"Okay." More than happy to escape the stuffy cottage I took the change and hurried out the door, gasping for air. A strong breeze blew in off the water. By the time I reached Little
's, the sweat had evaporated off my face.

It didn
't take long to find the store. A faded, peeling sign hung over the door of a skinny orange building. A gaggle of girls about ten years old was gathered around the front steps. One girl giggled as she peeked through a window in the front door. I checked my reflection in the window. I wanted to look nice, just in case I spotted any good-looking guys. So far I hadn't seen any likely candidates, but I was going to keep my eyes wide open for possibilities.

Inside the store narrow aisles were crowded with everything from beach balls and suntan lotion to potato chips and canned asparagus. I looked around for a cooler. I was desperate for a cold soda.

I noticed someone at the rear of the store stacking cereal boxes on a shelf. As I approached him I saw that, from the back, with his tall, broad-shouldered build and dark hair, he looked kind of like Alex Stedman.

"Excuse me." I cleared my throat. It was nice to have a ready-made excuse for talking to him. Maybe I could even find out his name. I tried out a flirtatious smile. "Do you have any cold soda?"

"In that far corner." The voice was familiar. The boy turned around as he pointed. He smiled broadly. "Well! Hi, Katie."

My smile faded. A sea of red washed over my face.

It
was
Alex Stedman.

Chapter Two

My hands went limp. I dropped all my money. Then I fell to my knees, more to hide the fact that I was blushing than to recover the change rolling all over the floor.

In an instant
Alex was crawling around retrieving quarters, nickels and dimes and handing them to me. "Here," he said, taking the money and pouring it into my hand. "You'd better count it to make sure it's all there."

I opened my hand
and pretended to count the money. I didn't know how much Mom had given me. Not that it mattered. With Alex kneeling only inches away from me, I couldn't remember how to add, anyway. I looked up at Alex and tried to smile. "I—it's all here." My heart practically exploded in my chest.

"Good."
Alex took my hands and pulled me to my feet. "What are you doing in Chatfield?"

His. Hands. Touched. Mine. The electricity went right up my arm and straight to my heart.
"We're, uh ... I'm, uh ... I'm here with my family. We're s-spending the s-summer in a cottage at the beach."

"That
's great. It's nice to see a familiar face—one a little closer to my own age." Alex jerked his thumb toward the front window where the girls were still giggling.

"I know what you mean." I
said, feeling somewhat steady by now. I shot a disdainful glance at the girls.

"Now ...,"
Alex said. "What can I do for you?"

I gazed into
Alex's warm brown eyes
. Ask me out. Fall in love with me
. Then I realized I was still clutching Alex's hands. I let go as if they were hot coals. "Umm ... er ... soda," I finally managed to say. "Where did you say the cold soda was?"

"Right there." Again
Alex pointed to the cooler in the corner.

I went to the cooler and pulled out a six-pack of
cream soda.

"You can pay for that up front."
Alex walked with me to the counter next to the front door.

I stood in front of the counter, holding the soda and smiling up at
Alex.

"Umm, if you put that on the counter, I can ring it up."

"Oh. Of course."

"Hi,
Alex," the girls called in unison.

"Hi, girls."
Alex winked at them. He turned to me. "You get two cents back." He pressed the money into my hand and wrapped my fingers around it. "Now don't lose it."

"Thanks." I wished I could have thought of a more
clever response.

"See you around."

I walked awkwardly out the door. I was sure that Alex thought of me as just a kid, a clumsy kid who dropped things every time I saw him.

As I walked back to the cottage hot sand filled my shoe, but I didn
't care. It had been such a shock to see Alex. I hadn't even thought to ask him if he was spending the whole summer in Chatfield or how he got a job so quickly or anything. And how was I going to have a trial romance now? Alex was hardly some anonymous summer person I'd never see again. He was the one I'd wanted to practice for! I certainly couldn't do it with him around. Unless ... unless I could practice with Alex himself. Even Samantha couldn't top that idea.

The more I thought about it, the more I worried that it
'd be too risky. Practicing a romance could be chancy enough without trying it with someone I really cared about. Besides, Alex thought of me as just a kid. I could see that. Maybe I could do something to change his image of me. Maybe—

"Oh, good!
Katie's back with the soda." Jason ran out of the cottage, grabbed my arm and pulled me inside.

"Just put
it on the kitchen counter," Mom said. "I'll get some glasses."

"Sure, Mom." I put down the soda and looked around the room. The windows were all wide open. Fresh air circulated, and sunlight
danced on the newly-swept floor. The sheets had been pulled off the furniture, exposing white wicker cushioned with blue-and-white pillows. The room was light, bright and cool. I thought maybe the cottage would be okay after all. Of course, the fact that Alex was in Chatfield might have had something to do with my most recent opinion.

"I
'll pour the sodas."

"Me first," Jason
said.

I started to pour the soda into his glass, then noticed th
ere were only three glasses. "Hey, isn't Dad having any?"

"He went into t
own to get food supplies," Mom said. "He'll be back soon. Let's sit at the table."

I sat down. The ladder-back chair was plain, but sturdy and comfortable. I swirled the soda in my glass.

"Kids, this summer means a lot to your father." Mom spoke in a low voice. "I don't want it spoiled by a lot of gripping and complaining. Understand?"

Jason nodded enthusiastically as he guzzled his soda. It was obvious that he was already enjoying himself and wasn
't planning on voicing any complaints.

I sighed and resisted the urge to say,
No, duh, I'm stupid—I don't understand.
But no point in antagonizing Mom, even though I knew the lecture was directed mainly at me.

"Good," said Mom. "I—"

There was a knock at the door. "Somebody let me in. My hands are full!"

Jason leapt up from his chair and opened the door. "Hi, Dad."

Dad walked in and set two bags of groceries on the counter. "There's more in the car."

Without a word Jason raced out the door.

Mom and I started unloading the bags and putting things away in the cabinets and refrigerator.

"Say,
Katie," Dad said. "I ran into a couple at the store who're from Hartford, too. They're spending the summer in a cottage down the road from us. They have a son who goes to your school. Maybe you know him. His name is Alex. Alex Stedman."

"We
've, uh, met." I gulped. So Alex would be in Chatfield for the whole summer!

Jason walked in, staggering under the weight of two bags of groceries. I took one and put it on the counter.

"They've got a daughter, too," Dad continued. "She's about Jason's age—a year younger, I think. Jason, do you know a girl named Hailey Stedman?"

Jason shrugged. "I don
't think so."

"Well, that
's okay. We'll get to know them all real soon." Dad pulled out two packages of hot dogs and three pounds of hamburger from one of the grocery bags. "I invited them over for a cookout tonight."

"T-tonight?" My heart somersaulted. There was no time to l
ose. "Where's my room? I really need to, um, freshen up."

"Turn right at the top of
the stairs," Mom said. "It's the third door on your left. The bathroom is between your room and Jason's and our room is on the other side of the hall."

Sifting through Mom
's directions as I ran, I dashed up the stairs to my room. My suitcase was on the bed, which was covered with a blue-and-white spread that matched the cushions on the living-room furniture. I was glad to see a large mirror hung over the white wicker dressing table next to the bed.

Through the bedroom window I saw two sea gulls flying over white-capped water. The sky was unblemished by even a single cloud. On the horizon was a sliver of land which I knew was
Long Island. Three sailboats skimmed across the water near another island that looked as if it was only about a half mile off shore.

But admiring the view would have to wait. I had more important things to do. Such as fix my hair. I plugged in my curling iron and sat down to comb my hair and decide how to style it.

After I was satisfied with my hair, I carefully applied makeup, a bit more than usual, then changed clothes twice before finally deciding on a yellow sundress with enough gathers in the bodice to round out my less-than-voluptuous figure. My new white sandals completed my outfit.

I swirled down the stairs feeling primed to impress
Alex with my sophisticated image. As soon as I got within ten feet of my mother I could tell I was getting the once-over.

"Blue eye shadow for the beach?" Mom raised an eyebrow.

"It contains a sunblock," I answered quickly. "Where are Dad and Jason?" A deft change of subject on my part. "Shouldn't we be setting things up for this cookout Dad planned?"

"They
're out back cleaning the grill and sweeping off the picnic table." She'd forgotten my eye shadow and any objections she may have been about to raise. "As usual, your father wasn't thinking too far ahead when he issued one of his last-minute invitations, and now he's realized how much there is to do before we can serve company."

"We
're eating outside?" I pictured the wind ruining in an instant what it had taken me twenty minutes to achieve with my hair.

"Well, we can seat eight at the picnic table. Besides, we might want to go swimming. Jason is already in his bathing suit."

"I'm comfortable in this." I headed off what I knew would be my mother's suggestion to change my clothes. Instead I again changed the subject. "I'll make some potato salad." I always used my grandmother's recipe, and it never failed to win compliments. It wouldn't hurt to impress Alex in as many ways as I could.

Once the potato salad was ready and Dad had lit the coals in the grill, I began to pace. "When are the Stedmans coming over?" I asked my mother. I tried to sound casual, as if it really didn
't matter and that, in fact, I found the whole idea of a cookout mildly annoying. That way Mom wouldn't wonder why I was so eager.

"Your father said they
'd come around six o'clock, so they should be here before too long. Why don't you go out and see what Jason is up to? I don't want him swimming alone, and if Dad is engrossed with making the perfect fire, he may not be watching Jason too closely."

"All right," I said, though I doubted that Jason would go swimming without asking someone to watch. He liked to have an audience. But I figured it would help take my mind off
Alex, so I went outside and found Jason at the edge of the water, trying to skip rocks. He wasn't having much success.

"You need the right kind of rock for that," I said. I hunted around in the sand until I found a few smooth flat stones. "Now watch." I tossed a rock. It skipped across the water three times.

"Let me try." Jason picked up a stone and imitated my form as he threw it. It skipped once.

"Good try." I kicked off my sandals and waded into the water. "Let me show you how to really get into it." I positioned myself carefully before throwing another rock. A wave smacked the hem of my dress as I let loose with a good throw. The rock skipped five times.

"Hey. Nice throw." It was Alex. "I used to be pretty good at that when I was little."

When he was little!
I wanted to bury myself in the sand. Alex would have to see me playing with rocks, standing in water up past my knees, my dress now wet and clinging to my legs.

Alex
picked up a rock and threw it. "Hmmm. Only four skips. I must be out of practice."

I tried to look dignified as I walked out of the water and picked up my sandals. I noticed
Alex was wearing red bathing trunks and a blue T-shirt. "I was just going in to change into my swimsuit," I said airily.

"Great,"
Alex said. "Meanwhile, I'll have a contest with Jason. We'll see who can skip a rock the farthest."

In my room I surveyed the damage. My hair had drooped into a nondescript mop, and the bottom of my dress was half-soaked and dotted with specks of sand. My eye shadow had smudged so it looked as if I had two black eyes.

With cold cream and tissues I removed what was left of the eye shadow and most of my other makeup as well. I pulled off my dress and tugged on my swimsuit, covering it with a University of Oregon sweatshirt Dad had brought me after he'd given a seminar there. I ran a comb through my hair, pulled it off my face and fastened it with an elastic band.

I tossed my sandals into the closet. I could go barefoot if
Alex could. With a quick glance in the mirror before heading back to the beach I could see that I looked like the little kid Alex surely believed I was. Well, I may have blown my opportunity to impress him with my clothes, but there was still the potato salad. What was it my grandmother said about the way to man's heart being through his stomach?

As I went back downstairs I found Mom talking with a woman and a young girl in the kitchen.

"Katie," Mom said, "I'd like you to meet Mrs. Stedman and Hailey."

"Hello." I shook hand
s with Mrs. Stedman, an attractive dark-haired woman with a friendly smile.

I thought the little girl was tall for her age, thin and solemn-looking. Her dark hair was cut short, abo
ve her ears. In a surprisingly deep voice Hailey said, "How do you do?"

At that point Jason ran into the kitchen, skidding to a halt just inches from
Hailey. "They've got the hamburgers and hot dogs going! Come on, Hailey. Let's be first in line!"