Swept Away (17 page)

“I'd say that makes us complementary, not opposites. It's why we make such a good team.”

He leans down and kisses me, but I step back. This is a bit too public, with the other parade entrants coming and going. Not to mention any minute now Freaky's blue pickup will appear.

I glance up the slope and spot the truck pulling up. Freaky climbs out and ambles down the hill.

“Good job,” Freaky says. Oliver beams. I can see his grandpop's approval means a lot to him.

Together the three of us load Candy Cane Jr. onto the truck and the boat onto the trailer. Oliver climbs into the truck cab, then leans out the open window. “See you at the beach for the fireworks,” he says.

“Near the dock,” I remind him.

He taps my nose with his finger, then settles into his seat. I step back and watch the truck drive away.

I glance around and realize people are staring. This has to be the biggest Freaky sighting all summer. I wonder if they think I'm a big weirdo because of it.

I have a momentous realization: I don't care. Not only do I like—maybe even more than like—Oliver, I've actually grown
fond of Freaky. Hopefully, instead of his freakiness rubbing off on me, my total and complete ordinariness will rub off on him. At least in the eyes of the Rocky Point gossipers.

I text Justin I'm ready for him to pick me up. Then I watch a very elaborately decorated boat coming toward shore. A canopy made of netting hangs over the top, the poles disguised with seaweed. “Under the Sea” from
The Little Mermaid
blasts from hidden speakers. The guy rowing is dressed in a scuba outfit, and three people manipulate larger-than-life-size puppets: a jellyfish, a lobster, and a crab. Glow sticks nestled in the netting and seaweed give it an otherworldly, underwatery look.

“Amazing,” I murmur. “I bet I know who'll win first prize!”

I hear a horn honk and see Justin pulling up. I scramble up the muddy little hill. “You did great!” Justin says as I get into the car.

“Yeah,” I say, “I'm kind of astonished we survived.”

“We all are, believe me,” Justin says. “So where to? Back to Freaky's?”

I give him a look.

“I'm sorry,” he says, shrugging. “I don't know what else to call him.”

I sigh. “Me either. But we have to come up with something!”

“How about
Mister
Freaky?” Justin jokes. “It sounds more respectful.”

I smack his arm, but I'm laughing.

“He's different from what I thought,” Justin says. “Freaky, I mean.”

“I know, right?” I already told Justin about Freaky being an artist, and also about how touchy he was about his paintings. “Just drop me off at home so I can shower and change, please.” I bite my lip as I watch houses decorated with flags and red-white-and-blue bunting go by the window. “And Oliver?”

“What about him?” he asks as he makes the turn onto Dumont.

“Is he . . . different from what you thought?”

A sneaky little smile crawls across his face. “Mandy has a boyfriend,” he singsongs. “Mandy has a boyfriend.”

“Stop it!” I protest.

But he keeps singing. “Mandy and Ollie sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”

“Cut it out,” I shriek through my giggles.

Justin switches to making kissing noises.

I poke his side. “You.” Poke. “Are.” Poke. “Evil.”

He laughs his sinister-villain laugh. The he waggles his eyebrows at me. “You better be nice to me, sis. So far I haven't spilled any of your secrets—”

“I don't have any.”

“Or interrogated him about his intentions, or questioned him about his weird attachment to Candy Cane or—”

“Okay! Okay! I get it. You are the best brother ever and I am lucky to have you and when are you going back to school already?”

He laughs and stops to let a bunch of parents with little kids with balloons and painted faces cross the street. There were kiddie events all day in the Square, and now these kids are probably
on their way to find a spot for the fireworks. Or grab some food on the piers, though there will also be booths set up near the docks, too. Yep, another seafood extravaganza.

As Justin pulls into our driveway, a thought rattles through me. I'm making my debut tonight as Oliver's girlfriend. Or maybe
he's
making
his
debut as my boyfriend.

If that's what we actually are. We haven't discussed our “­status”—we've been too busy building the float and, okay, kissing, to talk about what the kissing means.
Don't overthink,
I order myself.

Between Candy Cane duty and building the float I haven't had a chance to see or even talk to anyone. Not Patti, not Joanna, not any of my school friends (well, mostly they're Cynthia's, but whatever). None of them know about Oliver and me. And now we're about to go public.

I think I'm more nervous now than I was before the boat parade.

I run my fingers up and down my seat belt. “So, um . . .”

Justin stops with his hand on the door. “What?”

I flush. This is embarrassing, but I really do want to know. “So do you like him?”

“Freaky? Yeah, he's aces.”

I roll my eyes again. Justin brings that out in me.

“Yes, sis, I like Oliver. And what's more important, you like him. And probably even more important to you”—he pokes me—“is that he likes you.”

I lean back in my seat and feel the tension fall away, like it's being swept out to sea. “He does?”

Justin scoots out of the car. “Don't go all girl on me, Sneezy. You know he does. Don't pretend you don't.”

I'm about to protest, then realize he's right. Oliver likes me. I know it. And he knows I like him. And that's exactly how it should be.

T
he barge that sets off the fireworks is stationed between Rocky Point and Hubbard Island, so pretty much all sides of the bay provide good views. And all sides get crowded, particularly the U-shaped sandy beach that creates the cove. The band and the officials use the two ferry docks on the bay, so no one gets to sit there, but they make a great meeting point. That's where I head to find Patti and Joanna when Mom drops me off at the wharf.

I pass the same food booths that were at the Lupine Festival, but now that the Summer Regulars have arrived—and a whole lot of day-trippers have invaded— it's
really
crammed. I forgo my bloob pocket just in case Oliver and Lexi beat me here. I don't want him to have to face Joanna and Patti without me.

Music blasts from the loudspeakers, and the whole wharf has a party atmosphere, with lots of people sporting red, white, and blue. It's mega packed even as I make my way down the rocks to the shore. I hope I can find my friends in all this! Light spills from the docks, and the booths illuminate part of the beach, but it's still fairly dark as I get closer to the water.

I had nothing to worry about. I hear Joanna's unmistakable Brooklyn accent and use it as my guide. I try to avoid stepping on any toes or fingers as I pick my way carefully through the ­people
perched on mossy rocks and sprawled on the sand. It's like a human obstacle course.

“I can't hear you!” Joanna's yelling into her cell phone, one hand covering her other ear. “We should text. TEXT!”

Joanna sits on a portable beach chair that holds down one corner of a blanket. Patti lounges on another edge, her legs stretched out in front of her. What's interesting is the guy Patti's leaning against. As I approach, she lifts her face to him. He bends to kiss her, then she gets up and kneels to rummage in a cooler holding down another corner of the blanket.

So Patti found herself her summer romance. Interesting.

“Hey, everybody!” I greet as I drop onto the blanket.

“Mandy!” Joanna cries. “Little Miss MIA!”

“Sorry,” I say. “But between working at the lighthouse and building the boat float, I've been super busy.”

Patti swings around with her back to the water. “Mandy, do you know Kyle Marcus?”

I look at Kyle, who's now sitting cross-legged next to her. His face is familiar. Curly blond mane. Freckles. “Were you on the soccer team with my brother? Justin?”

“You're Justin Sullivan's sis?” He grins. “Cool. Is he coming?”

“He's around here somewhere,” I say, scanning the crowds. “We might run into him. So what have you vacationers been up to while I've been slaving away?”

“Well,” Patti says, “Grumpy over there has spent most of the time at the library checking e-mail and gazing at pictures of her beloved Brooklyn. Not to mention her beloved.”

Joanna scoops sand at Patti. “I haven't been that bad.”

“That's true. We were able to pry you away from Wi-Fi long enough for a trip to Hubbard Island.” Patti looks at me a bit apologetically. “We were going to ask you if you wanted to come, but we know you're not all that into the biking and hiking.”

“And sneezing and itching eyes,” I agree. “My allergies kick in around now, so being in all that nature isn't exactly big fun.”

“You looked like you were having a good time in the boat parade today,” Joanna says. She holds up her soda can in salute. “Excellent float!”

“Thanks,” I say. “It was all Oliver's idea.”

Joanna swivels her head. “So where is this mystery man of yours?”

Patti scoots forward. “Is he really Freaky Framingham's grandson?”

“Word really gets around in this town,” I say.

“Another reason I miss Brooklyn,” Joanna mutters.

“He'll be here,” I say. I rise up on my knees and scan the crowd.

“Talking about me?”

Hands appear on my shoulders. Oliver's hands.

“You found us!” I say, glancing up. I'm so relieved that I hadn't said too much. He would have heard every word.

“With Lexi's help,” he says, settling next to me. “She's talking to some friends over by the dock. She'll be over in a minute, she said.”

“So you're the genius behind the mini Candy Cane,” Joanna says.

“I don't know if ‘genius' is the right word,” Oliver responds. “‘Nut job,' maybe. Though I think Lexi and Mandy might refer to me as Pain in the Butt.”

“Guys, this is Oliver,” I say with a laugh. I nod toward my
friends. “The one clinging to her cell phone is Joanna; that's Patti and her friend Kyle.”

“Hey, man,” Kyle says. He stands and stretches. “I'm off. Gotta go sell some lobster.”

Patti stands and gets up onto her tiptoes to give him a quick kiss. “Later,” he tells her.

“You bet.”

To us he adds, “If you get hungry, stop by our booth. It's the second one in at Main Street and Water. Don't you dare go to Jake's. And say hi to Sully for me.”

“We promise!” I call after him as he heads off.

“Who's Sully?” Oliver asks.

“Justin. One of his many nicknames.”

The minute Kyle is out of hearing range, Patti grabs my hands. “So you know him? Tell me everything!” she demands.

“Looks like you already know plenty,” I tease.

“But you're here with him all year! And by the way, where have you been hiding him?”

“I guess you just hadn't been paying enough attention,” I say.

“Well . . . ?”

I frown. “I actually don't know much. He was a year ahead of Justin.”

“Oooh,” Joanna says. “A college man!”

“Actually,” Patti says, “he's not in college. He told me that his dad needed his help, so he didn't go.”

“That's right,” I say, remembering. “His dad's one of the lobster­men. I think it's a whole family operation. Uncle. Cousins, too, maybe.”

“Rough,” Joanna says. “To have to give up college to go into the family business.”

“I don't know,” Oliver says. “He can always go later. I think it's kind of noble. Pitching in for the family.” He grins. “Of course, I'm totally incapable of going into my family's businesses, so it's easy for me to talk.”

“Mandy's kind of in the family business this summer,” Patti points out. “That lighthouse is practically a family member.”

“Yeah,” Oliver says, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “And I think it's really sweet.”

“Okay, now we need to know all about
you
!” Joanna says, setting her sights on Oliver. Gotta give the boy props. He's not running screaming into the night.

“Not much to tell. Here from California. And,” he adds, putting his arm around me, “having a much better time than I thought I would.”

“So . . . how'd you meet?” Patti asks in a singsongy voice.

I squinch my nose at her. My way of warning her not to get too—well, let's just call it “cute.”

“Candy Cane,” Oliver tells them.

“That job I didn't want?” I say. “It turned out to have some surprise perks.”

“Is that what I am?” Oliver asks, pretending to be offended. “A perk?”

“You're a lot perkier than I am,” I quip.

“Definitely perkier than Joanna,” Patti grumbles.

“What?” Joanna glances up from her cell. “What are you saying?”

“Quit with the texting already!” Patti complains. “We're getting the dish on the new guy!”

I shake my head, but Oliver seems amused.

“Speaking of dishes,” he says. He starts emptying a shopping bag he brought with him. Wrapped sandwiches, cut veggies with some kind of dip in a plastic tub, and more of those giant cookies.

“Oh, my hero!” I squeal. I grab one of the sandwiches. I wave it at the others. “I can guarantee all of this is super delish!”

“Oh good,” Lexi says as she joins us. “I didn't miss the food!”

Oliver scoots over to make room for her. “Pops insisted I bring enough to feed an army, so dig in.”