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Authors: Dina Silver

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BOOK: One Pink Line
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He smiled and held the cabana curtain for me, then ducked to exit.

Ethan vanished into the crowd, while I located Taylor and Angela behind the outdoor kitchen smoking a cigarette and sniffling.

“There you are, we’ve been dying!” Taylor said as soon as I approached them.

“First of all, you suck,” I began counting with my fingers. “Secondly, how could you ditch me and my Oreos like that?”

“Don’t freak out, Syd, it was hysterical, and everyone was looking for a reason to get out of there,” she said and tapped her ashes into the base of a rose bush.

“Including me!” I said.

“Gin shot?” Angela asked and held up a bottle.

I cringed. “No thanks. I puked hard on that stuff about two months ago, the smell alone is making my stomach turn,” I turned to Taylor. “Can I borrow a suit?”

“I thought you weren’t going in.”

“Changed my mind.”

She rubbed her head. “If you go in, then I have to go in,” she said.

“You bought a new bikini, I thought you were planning on it.”

“I just wanted the new bikini, but not for tonight.”

Angela’s facial features crumpled in distortion as she took one last sip of Beefeater. “I’ll go with you Syd; I wore a black bra and panties just in case.”

Taylor looked at me. “You know where they are, bottom drawer, pink dresser.”

“Thanks, I’ll be back in ten,” I said, and took off toward the house.

When I returned, I was wearing Taylor’s second favorite suit, the yellow string bikini with a baby doll ruffle on the bottoms. I knew if I’d pranced out to the pool deck in her new black one with the beaded fridge, I’d never hear the end of it. I wrapped a pink and white striped bath towel around my waist and began looking for Angela, when a large, dripping wet silhouette invaded my personal space.

“Thought you’d disappeared,” Ethan said with a devilish grin.

“Wipe that look off your face, because if you’re even thinking of throwing me in, I will kill you.”

“Funny,” he cocked his head. “I’m not the least bit scared.”

And with that, he scooped me up kicking and screaming and ran to the edge of the deep end. Rather than accept my fate, and the fact that I’d planned on going in anyway, I reactively grabbed onto his wide neck and began to plead with him as two other guys in the pool were gently suggesting I be thrown in topless.

“Please don’t turn me into the girl who lost her top at the graduation party, I’ll do anything,” I said, and begged with my eyes.

“How about that kiss you owe me?”

“Deal.”

The next thing I knew, we were both airborne and his mouth pressed against mine seconds before we were engulfed with water. His lips were soft, his skin was warm, and his arms were thick and protective.

When I came to the surface he was waiting for me.

“Nice intimidation tactic,” I said.

“Just stooping to your level.”

The party was rocking by the time my initial curfew had come and gone. I said goodbye to my friends close to two in the morning and headed for the Gold’s front driveway where my car was parked.

“Sydney,” Ethan called after me.

I turned and stopped a few yards away from my car. “The roots of my hair are nearly dry, so keep your distance,” I pointed at him.

“Just wanted to say goodbye.”

“Thanks,” I said and studied his physique. He was wearing only his bathing suit and flip-flops. His hairless chest was muscular and toned, and his stomach was so flat it was almost concave. His swim trunks were struggling to stay on his waist.

“So, what are your plans this summer?”

“Not too much, I’m waitressing part time at Onwentsia Country Club in Lake Forest, and just hanging out,” I said, my voice filled with hope.

“Sounds nice.”

We stood there for a second before I looked at my Swatch.

Two-thirty.

“I’m so sorry, but my curfew was days ago, and if I don’t get home soon, my summer plans will be much different than the ones I’ve just mentioned.”

Ethan ran a hand through his damp hair. “That’s cool, maybe I can call you and we can hang out together sometime.”

“I would love that,” I said quickly. “Would you like my number?”

He looked down at his outfit. “I don’t have a pen.”

“We’re in the book. Last name is Shephard, on Maple Street.”

“Thanks Syd, I’ll find it,” he said and took a couple steps closer. I could smell the chlorine on his skin. “I had a great time with you tonight,” he said.

I looked up at him. “Me too.”

Ethan bent down and kissed me. It happened so quickly that our heads turned, and our lips clicked into place immediately. I felt lightheaded as he wrapped one of his large arms around my back and pulled me tightly into his chest.

The evening began with nary a romantic expectation.

Despite that, I fell madly in love.

CHAPTER THREE

 

D
uring the two weeks I was grounded after Taylor’s graduation party, Ethan had called my house and left a message for me at some point, but our date was postponed until my mother and I were on speaking terms again. As soon as she was able to get past my defiance, I was allowed to return Ethan’s call…four days late. Since all I cared about during high school was spending time with my friends, cutting me off from them was typically my mother’s punishment of choice.

“Hi, Ethan, it’s Sydney Shephard,” I announced when he answered the phone.

“I was beginning to think you were mad at me for throwing you in the pool,” he said.

Hearing his voice made me smile. “I was grounded, forbidden from using the phone, leaving the house after eight o’clock, and making eye contact with my mother.”

“Sounds rough.”

“It’s over,” I informed him. “I’m actually heading over to Taylor’s in a little bit.”

“Do you want to get together later?” he asked.

I had the phone cord wrapped around my index finger. “I would love to, what did you have in mind?”

“I’ll pick you up at eight, and we’ll decide from there.”

I ran downstairs, past the staged family photos we’d sat through over the years, and found Kendra having a bowl of cereal in the kitchen.

“I have a date tonight!”

“With Ethan?” she asked excitedly.

Kendra was my rock. And having her home for the summer made it bearable for me to live under the same roof as my mother. My dad would always make an honest attempt to defend me against my mom’s wrath, but he was a naturally soft-spoken man who hated confrontation. Many times after he’d listen to me arguing with my mother, then endure slamming doors, Dad would come into my room and tell me to ignore her. Which was nearly impossible, but it was his way of trying to clean up the mess rather than get his hands dirty. But Kendra was a different story. My mother worshipped her, and if Kendra defended me when I was in trouble, my mom would back off in a heartbeat. When we were young, Mom had Kendra in art classes, dance classes, and skating lessons. I remember being dragged along to all of them. I’d sit there next to my mom and dream about the day I’d be old enough to take the same classes, but that day never came. She never signed me up for anything except Girl Scouts, because my next-door neighbor’s mom was the troop leader and offered to drive me every week. When I was old enough to ask her why, she’d just say Kendra was better at those things.

I resented my mother for that, but not my sister. My sister was the kindest, most loving, beautiful person I knew. She was smart and accomplished, and she was fiercely protective of me. And even though she wore skinny headbands, pearl earrings and Bermuda shorts, she never once tried to convince me to be anything other than who I was. She inherited the good height and hair genes, but her beauty was so natural that I couldn’t begrudge her for being prettier than me even if I’d wanted to…she simply was born that way.

“Syd, that’s wonderful, where’s he taking you?”

“I’m not sure,” I said and took the stool opposite her at the table.

“What are you going to wear?”

Despite the time I spent fine-tuning my hair each morning, I never gave my clothes very much thought. If the occasion called for anything more than a t-shirt and jeans, chances were I wasn’t going. “Just jeans, I guess.”

“Well, help yourself to anything of mine if you want,” she said and walked her empty bowl to the sink. “I can’t wait to hear about it, I’m so excited for you,” she said and squeezed my arm.

“Thanks.”

I had to tell my mom about Ethan because he was coming to the house to pick me up. She was sitting at her dressing table, and as soon as I mentioned his last name, her eyes lit up.

“Caroline Reynolds is one of the town’s biggest philanthropists,” she enlightened me. “In fact, she was chairman of the JDF ball last spring. Have you seen their home? It’s the crown jewel of the Holiday Home Tour every winter. What a wonderful family,” she whispered the last line to herself. “How did you meet this boy?”

“His name is Ethan. We met at Taylor’s graduation party.”

She nodded slowly, planning the wedding in her head.

I sat through a five-minute biography of Ethan’s mother and her many claims to local fame, until my mother stopped abruptly and looked me over. “Please put some make-up on before you leave, and make sure he comes in and says hello to your father,” she took a breath and folded her hands in front of her. “Would you like to discuss how you’re feeling about him?”

I stared at her, speechless.

Chapter seven of child rearing book #3 clearly states: encourage romantic interests with caution and counsel. Allow your child a comfort zone so that they feel they can come to you with sensitive subject matter. Keep conversation light so they don’t think you’re focusing on their private business. Act like you care, even if you don’t.

“I know!” she continued excitedly as though Caroline Reynolds had just asked her over for lunch. “Would you like to borrow my long silver earrings? You know, the ones I bought when your father and I were in New Orleans. You’re always saying how much you like them every time I have them on.”

“No thanks, Mom.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure,” I reiterated. Not a special occasion went by when she didn’t try to push those damn Cajun sparklers on me. I barely recalled complimenting them once, in an effort to distract her from something else, and I’ve never lived it down. For sure, the only thing she’ll be leaving me in her will.

“You know the ones I mean, right? They would look so nice if you wear your hair down.”

“I know the ones, Mom, and I’m quite sure, thank you.”

She turned to the mirror and finished applying her mascara. “Well, have fun then, and be smart.”

“I always am.”

Ethan pulled in the driveway at five minutes to eight o’clock. I begged my dad to greet him at the door, so Ethan wouldn’t feel awkward, and Dad was happy to oblige.

“G’nite!” I yelled after speeding through the introductions and hurrying Ethan back to the car.

“Be smart…” I heard from behind me.

Ethan suggested we head to Gilson beach in Wilmette, and all I wanted him to do was kiss me like he had in Taylor’s driveway. He was dressed in long khaki shorts, a navy blue polo shirt and Paco Rabanne cologne. A smell that sends chills down my spine to this day.

We walked down the long gravel path to the sand, and spent about three minutes deciding on the perfect spot to lay the blanket he’d brought with him.

Ethan kicked off his flip flops and plopped down on one side, propping his body up on his left elbow. “Any chance you want to skinny dip?” he asked me.

“Not on the first date.”

“You free tomorrow night?” he smirked.

I nodded. “So, why’d you wait so long to call me after Taylor’s party?”

“Did I?”

“Just kidding,” I backpedaled, thinking I’d just sprayed a mist of desperation in the air.

“No, seriously, were you waiting for me to call?”

Yes, I was waiting for him to call! In fact, since I was grounded at the time, I had really nothing more to do than pray it was him on the line every time I’d hear the phone ring. It was at least a week before Kendra ran into my room with the good news. “No, I was just kidding,” I said again.

BOOK: One Pink Line
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ads

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