The View from the Top (10 page)

Jonah's head surfaced all the way in the deep end. He shook out his hair like a wet dog, then spotted Anabelle across the water. “You're gonna regret this, Seulliere,” he said quietly, swimming the crawl over to her.

“Wait,” Anabelle said when he was about a foot away. “I just need to know something.”

Jonah glided up and wrapped his hands around her ankles. “Make it quick,” he said, giving her feet a tug. “Lexi and I have to take care of your punishment.”

Lexi hoped Anabelle's punishment didn't involve getting out of the pool.

Anabelle braced herself, gripping the slate. “Why'd you come over so late while Matt was gone?” she asked Jonah.

Jonah pushed his legs out behind him and flutter-kicked to keep himself afloat. “I don't know,” he said. “Habit, I guess.”

Anabelle dipped her hand in the water and spritzed Jonah in the face.

What's she doing?
Lexi wondered. He wasn't going to admit he'd come over to see her. Not with Lexi right there.

“You knowwhat?” he said, creeping his fingers like tarantulas over the backs of Anabelle's legs. “I came over because I had something to say.”

“Yeah?” Anabelle sounded hopeful, as if she knew deep down that this big thing Jonah had to say was for her ears. Lexi felt invisible. As if they didn't notice that she was right there, practically naked beside them. Part of her wanted to jump out of the pool and run away and another part wanted to barge in between them and push them apart.

“If you must know, I had to tell Jeanie something,” Jonah said, dropping his feet and standing.

“Jeanie?” Anabelle sounded shocked.

“She's been giving me advice about this situation I'm in.” Jonah turned around with his back to Anabelle and bowed down, placing her feet over his chest. “Or was in.”

“Why is my mom everyone's therapist?” Lexi asked. But she was relieved in a way that his goal hadn't been to find Anabelle. Or was this just some crazy excuse to hide that?

“So,” Jonah said, ignoring Lexi, “I've kinda been seeing this woman. An older woman. Well, not seeing her exactly. It's complicated. Anyway. I got the good sense to realize it was no good for me. I came to tell Jeanie that.”

“How old?” Anabelle asked, scrunching her nose.

“Too old.” He grabbed Anabelle's hands and put them on his head. “Now hop on before I drag you in against your will.”

Anabelle slid off the side of the pool onto his shoulders. She steadied herself as Jonah carried her out to the center of the water.

Lexi couldn't get Anabelle's judgmental look out of her head. So what if Jonah was seeing an older woman? Big deal. It wasn't something to make faces about. Lexi was glad she hadn't made her confession earlier; she didn't think she could've handled Anabelle making a similar face when she found out Lexi used to make out with a girl.

Jonah walked deeper and deeper. When the water was up to his chest, Anabelle leaned over and whispered something in his ear, which Lexi couldn't hear but made Jonah smile. And then Anabelle raised her arms and started flapping them gracefully, as if she were an exotic bird. Jonah bobbed up and down along with her movements.

What in the world was going on here? Some crazy mating ritual? Watching this thing between the two of them unfold made Lexi feel sick to her stomach, like she did that time when Anabelle's boss was out of the shop and they overloaded on saltwater taffy. “Are you guys, like, practicing for some sort of two-person winged dragon role in a play I don't know about?” Even as Lexi asked it, she knew she was talking too loudly.

Anabelle and Jonah both shushed her.

Jonah turned around and glided back toward Lexi. She suddenly noticed how hairy his chest was. Much hairier than last summer. Not beastly or anything. But for the first time she thought of him as a man, not a boy.

Were she and Anabelle women? Anabelle showed more signs of becoming one than Lexi did, but flapping around up there in her dry clothes on Jonah's bare wet shoulders, she looked really young. Lexi felt relieved that Anabelle hadn't taken off her clothes; it would've felt too bad to see the two of them this close together in just undergarments, with her off to the side feeling like the only one who was still a child.

Just then, Jonah gave a big jump and dunked Anabelle underwater. There was kicking and shoving, spluttering, and the holding in of laughter.

Lexi couldn't bear to watch this any longer. She swam out to the deepest part of the deep end and wondered what would happen first: her arms and legs losing strength from treading water or Anabelle and Jonah finally giving in and kissing.
Maybe you should just get out and go home,
she thought.
Leave them to do whatever they're gonna do. It's
inevitable.

And then.

Alight came on.

In the humongous corner windows on the third floor.

“You guys
^!
” Lexi whisper-shouted. “Someone's awake in there. I think we should go.”

“What,” Anabelle said, clinging to Jonah's back, “so now you're suddenly not a risk taker?”

“Ouch,” Jonah said with a smirk.

“Really?” Lexi said. “You really want to go there?”

“You're just always making me feel so lame and timid. I figured a little light in a house wouldn't scare you. Someone probably just got up to go to the bathroom.”

Lexi's body felt like a teakettle just before it whistles, the bubbles rippling through her limbs. “Look at me, Anabelle,” she said through her teeth. “Take a good hard look.” She swam over to the side of the pool, kicking with all her might, and hoisted herself out. She stormed around the corner and mounted the diving board.

Anabelle was still wrapped around Jonah's back, her chin hanging over his shoulder. Her hair was sopping wet, her cheeks flushed. She looked beautiful. Lexi used to think she was the only one who could make Anabelle look like that. But right now, all Lexi was doing was making Anabelle's eyes pop.

“I am in my underwear!” Lexi said, not really caring if her voice was the teensiest bit too loud. “You've got all your clothes on.” She walked out to the edge of the diving board and leaned forward to be sure Anabelle heard this next part. “You will never, ever be as daring as I am. You're afraid. Afraid to do what you know you have to do. Afraid to give in to your feelings, to go after what you want.” Lexi hated herself as she was saying these things, but she felt that she had to keep going. She was a boulder halfway down a mountain in a landslide. “Why don't you two just—”

Before she could suggest that Anabelle and Jonah just get it over with already and do it, Jonah threw Anabelle off his back. “Shit!” he said. “Someone's coming!”

Lexi turned to see a girl—or woman? it was hard to tell—walking cautiously toward the pool. Anabelle and Jonah started scrambling out of the water, but Lexi didn't wait for them. She sprinted over the lawn to the staircase and down to the beach, leaving her clothes behind. She ran against the wind, letting it blow against her stomach, her face. The last time she felt this electrified she'd been onstage, zipping around in the Peter Pan flying contraption.

She turned around for a second and got a glimpse of Anabelle and Jonah, two human-shaped specks just making it onto the sand.

They would never catch up to her.

A
s soon as Matt's dad dropped him off at home, he set out on his mission. His mission to find Anabelle. To see her, to hold her, to feel her squeeze his hand three times—their secret silent code for
I love you.

The first floor was empty. Unless you counted the smell of his mom's way-too-strong coffee. Good, that meant she'd probably stayed here last night. He hoped that was a sign it was over with her and Skeeve. There had been rumblings recently about a possible engagement—how he was finally ready to commit to her. But Matt didn't buy that for a second. Guys like Skeeve didn't commit to anyone but themselves.

Matt went to the basement door and listened. No piano music; Anabelle must not be down there. As he ran up to his room, his stomach started to feel all whirry, like it did last week when he'd spun too fast on the Tipsy Teacups. Lately he'd had this feeling that something was going on between Anabelle and Jonah; over the weekend he'd convinced himself that it was probably true. And the longer it took him to find her, the more sure he became that it was absolutely, positively, without-a-doubt true. Please let
her be sitting on my bed waiting for me,
he thought. Please,
please, please.

She wasn't.

He banged on Lexi's door and didn't even wait for her groggy “Yeah?” before busting in.

Lexi was lying there, all tangled up in her sheet. It was one o'clock—why wasn't she up yet? She was usually driving him crazy with her operatic shower singing by at least ten.

“Where's Anabelle?” he demanded, as if he were a detective and Lexi was a criminal hiding Anabelle away in an undisclosed location.

“I don't know,” Lexi said, blinking her bleary eyes. “She never came back.”

“Came back from where?” Oh God, he was right. She was out fooling around with Jonah.

“Nowhere,”
Lexi said with melodramatic exasperation. “She just... she left early. Really early.”

“But it's her day off,” he said, dumbfounded. “She knew I was coming home today.”

Lexi rolled over and put a pillow over her head. Big help she was.

Matt ran back downstairs, imagining all the different places where Anabelle and Jonah might be making out: on the beach, on the jetty, in the back room at the taffy shop.

He paced around the kitchen island. It was covered in smashed bits of chocolate. His mom always overdid it on the chocolate when she was having man issues.

On his third time around, he grabbed a cantaloupe from the fruit bowl and tossed it back and forth between his palms.
Where could they be, where could they be, where could they be?
Maybe they were hanging out on the swing set in Anabelle's yard. On, like, a real date. Which somehow felt even worse than if they were groping in a closet.

Matt had been right. He'd been right all along to not want to leave them alone. Why hadn't Anabelle come with him to Boston? She could've taken a few days off from work. He'd even offered to give her the money she'd be losing. There was only one answer to why she didn't take him up on it, and that was Jonah. It had to be.

Matt raced out the back door, forgetting he was still holding the cantaloupe. But, agh, there was no time to bring it back inside. He smashed it in the driveway, the orange flesh exploding on the pavement like a Jackson Pollock painting.

There's gotta be a metaphor there,
Matt thought, staring at the cracked-open, bald-headed melon. Something about destroyed innocence? He made a mental note to remember that for tonight when he smoked up and started writing. Which he actually hadn't done in a few days; his dad didn't allow pot at his place. And Matt couldn't write without being stoned. Or not his really deep stuff anyway. He had so much buzzing around in his head, he couldn't wait to get it all out. So much that maybe the best way to express it would be with a gigantic paintbrush. Or a wet ball of clay. It was always so hard to choose the right medium.

First, though, he had to get this Anabelle-and-Jonah thing settled.

Matt bolted out to the street, not sure where he was heading, but knowing he had to find them. And boy, were they going to be sorry when he did. As he bounded toward the street, he felt strong. He felt like the Incredible Hulk becoming big and green.