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The Shore Page 14
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“Told you you were Ginger,” April said with a smug grin.
“Then who’s the millionaire?” Polly asked.
“That would definitely be Avery,” April said.
“Because she has to support that loser Curt,” Sabrina muttered.
April and Sabrina switched places so that April could start work on Polly’s right eyebrow while Sabrina moved the flat iron to the left side of her head. As April wielded the tweezers, Polly tried hard not to focus on the pain.
“So, am I Mary Ann?” she asked hopefully.
“No!” Sabrina and April chorused together.
Polly felt deflated. “Then who am I?”
In the mirror, Polly saw April and Sabrina exchange a glance. “You’re the skipper,” April said at last.
For a moment, Polly thought she might cry. The skipper lost control of the boat and got them all stranded. All their problems were really his fault.
“Oh, please,” Sabrina grumbled. “Spare us the self-pity. The skipper was the one who tried his best to keep everyone safe. He was the responsible one.”
That caught Polly by surprise. Sabrina actually understood what she tried to do. Rules and responsibility created order and safety. That was how she had always seen it. They didn’t mean you couldn’t have fun. Polly loved to have fun. Just not at the expense of others.
“Stop twitching,” April ordered.
Polly laughed gently. “So, the skipper it is. Who does that make Mary Ann?”
“One moment,” April said. She put down the tweezers, grabbed a towel and some makeup remover, turned on the water, and bent over the sink.
“What are you doing?” Sabrina asked, but April didn’t answer. After a moment, she turned off the water and rubbed the towel over her face. When she turned around, she had no makeup left on and the change was dramatic.
Not only was April very pretty, she was also wholesome looking. But, most surprising, when she pulled her black hair back from her face, she looked just like Mary Ann.
“Oh, my gosh!” Polly gasped.
“So, that’s what you really look like,” Sabrina said, sounding impressed.
“Yup, that’s what I’ve been hiding.” April smirked. “I’m actually Mary Ann.”
“You shouldn’t hide under all that makeup,” Polly said.
“So my mom tells me,” said April.
“Okay, we’ve got Gilligan, the skipper, the millionaire and her wife, the movie star, and Mary Ann,” said Sabrina. “That just leaves the professor.”
“That’s easy,” said April. “Lucas.”
“Yeah. What’s up with him? He seems kind of smart for a surf slacker,” Polly said.
“Believe it,” Sabrina agreed. “I saw him reading War and Peace. He said it was a dare, but I don’t buy it.”
“Remember what Fred said about those famous professors at Princeton having the same last name as his?” Polly said, wincing with pain as Sabrina pulled a lock of her hair. “Lucas said he didn’t know them, but you have to wonder.”
“Know what’s interesting about the guys in this house?” April asked. “None of them are what they appear to be. Scratch the surface and there’s someone different underneath.”
“Like Curt not quite being the man we thought he was?” Sabrina said.
“And Owen,” April said.
“Oh, give me a break,” Sabrina said dismissively.
“Are you saying he’s not an alcoholic?” Polly asked.
“I think a big part of his problem are those creeps he hangs out with,” April suggested. “Especially that guy Martin. Owen just might be a pretty decent guy if you got him away from the others.”
“Easier said than done,” Sabrina said. “Hey, here’s a thought: Maybe we should all go out to dinner one of these nights. Show off the new Polly.”
Polly stared at the stranger in the mirror. There was no denying it: Freckles smoothed out with foundation, eyes big and bright with mascara, eyebrows expertly trimmed, red hair gleaming and perfectly framing her face. That couldn’t be her.
Just then, a sound came from outside the bathroom.
“What was that?” Polly whispered. “I thought I heard something.”
Sabrina tiptoed over to the bathroom door and pushed it open. Outside stood Fred, a look of guilt all over his quickly reddening face.
“You weren’t spying on us, were you, Fred?” Sabrina asked silkily.
“No, I, uh, just came to check out the upstairs plumbing.” He seemed sort of dazed and wasn’t even looking at Sabrina. Instead, he was staring past her at Polly.
“Hi, Fred.” Polly smiled.
“Polly?” Fred stammered.
“Who’d you think it was?” April asked, teasing.
“I . . . I . . .” He still hadn’t taken his eyes off her. “You look great!”
Now Polly felt her own face turn red . . . with delight and pleasure.
“So, are you here for Polly or the plumbing?” Sabrina asked.
“Uh . . .” From the way Fred hesitated, it was clearly obvious which he was more interested in. But being shy and uncertain of himself, he finally blurted, “The plumbing.”
“Then why don’t you go fix the pipes and leave us alone?”
He turned and beat a hasty retreat. Sabrina turned to Polly and April. They all shared a smile.
“He is so into you,” April whispered.
“Men,” Sabrina said, shaking her head and rolling her eyes.
All three of them laughed.
“We suck,” Darek moaned from behind the drums. “We’re never going to be ready for the Battle of the Bands.”
They were in the living room in the band’s house, which was jammed with instruments and speakers. Curt sat on his amp, cradling his guitar. They’d been rehearsing for days, but still hadn’t found the groove. It was just after 10 p.m. and they’d been rehearsing since noon.
“We’ve just got to keep going,” Curt said. “This is why we came here this summer, isn’t it?”
He was met with groans of frustration.
“We can’t quit now, not when we’ve come so far,” Curt said, feeling more than a little frustrated himself.
“Yeah, but we’ve come as far as we’re going to unless we do something about our songs. They suck,” Austin, the lead singer, complained.
“They do not!” Bobby, the bass player and lyricist protested.
“They do, Bobby. Everyone knows it but you,” Curt said tiredly.
“Yeah, well, I don’t see anybody else in this band writing any songs,” Bobby snapped.
“You’re right about that, bro,” Austin admitted.
“What are we going to do?” Darek asked. “If we sound like this at the Battle of the Bands, we’ll be laughed off the stage. There are bands coming from hundreds of miles away.”
There was one idea Curt had been avoiding. It was dishonest and sneaky and would probably guarantee him an enemy for life. But if he didn’t do it, the band was probably finished.
“I’ll tell you what we’re going to do,” he said, getting up and laying his guitar against the amp. “Bobby, you’re going to practice that bass fifteen hours a day. Austin, you’re going to take care of those pipes. Darek, you’re just going to keep on doing what you do best, buddy. And I’m going to come up with something.”
“Like what?” Austin asked.
“A way to make us the best band there.”
“How’re you going to do that?” Bobby asked.
“Trust me on this,” Curt said as he headed for the door. “I’ll catch you guys tomorrow.”
When Curt reached the house, he stepped inside. “Avery!” he shouted. “Ave!”
“She’s still at the restaurant,” Polly said from the kitchen.
“But it’s ten. She should have been off an hour ago,” Curt said, confused.
“Private party, she had to stay late.”
“Then why aren’t you there with her?” he asked.
“Because two of the other
waitresses volunteered to stay and I didn’t have to,” Polly said. “Don’t worry, she should be getting off soon.”
I’ll just go and see, Curt thought, and headed for the restaurant.
With the dark waves lapping at the shore, he marched down the beach. Curt didn’t like the idea of Avery staying late at work. He didn’t trust her manager, Anthony. The guy was a snake. The memory of him dancing with Avery at the outdoor concert was still fresh in his mind. Maybe Avery had been dancing with him because she’d wanted to get STF a gig at the Surfin’ Spot, but that sure wasn’t what Anthony had had in mind.
Besides, Avery had been acting a little weird lately. A little too clingy. It felt good to be needed, but something about it felt forced. As if she was forcing herself to be with him. And then there was all this crap about going out. For the last two days she had been going on and on about the frickin’ pier. What did he care about rides and overpriced hot dogs? He had a band to whip into shape before the battle.
He could feel himself getting worked up as suspicions crossed his mind. Staying late for a private party? What kind of party? If the restaurant was closed, then it didn’t need a hostess, and Avery never waits tables. Could this private party be her and Anthony?
By the time he reached the restaurant, his imagination was so far into overdrive that he practically collided with a couple who were leaving. He glanced through a brightly lit window and saw people seated at a long table. So there was a party after all. But the waitresses were clearing away the coffee cups and dessert plates, and the partyers were getting up and leaving. Then Curt spied Avery in a far corner of the room, talking and laughing with Anthony.
Curt bristled. The party was over. Why was she still hanging around with that guy? Great, with all the headaches he had with the band, he sure didn’t need this. He yanked open the restaurant door and went inside.
It was an effort for Avery to stand there with Anthony chatting and laughing when she was only doing it for Curt’s sake, still trying to get STF a slot at the Surfin’ Spot. So Avery almost couldn’t believe her eyes when Curt strolled into the private party room. “Curt! What are you doing here?”
“Walking you home,” he said, smiling as broadly as he could. But Avery had seen this act before and she knew it was completely forced. “Curt, this is Anthony,” she said.
Curt shook the restaurant manager’s hand, Avery noticed that he seemed to be making sure to squeeze extra tight.
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Anthony said. “How’s the band?”
“Great,” Curt said.
“Avery was just talking to me about getting you guys into the Surfin’ Spot,” the restaurant manager said. “She said that a couple of your guys weren’t healthy for that outdoor concert and that I should stop by the Battle of the Bands and check you out again.”
Avery gave Curt an encouraging smile, but she knew her boyfriend well enough to realize what he was thinking: that it sounded good. Too good to be true.
“Come on,” Avery tugged at Curt’s elbow. “Let me grab my bag and we’ll go.”
She told Anthony she’d see him the next day, got her bag from the coat room, and headed outside and into the dark.
“What was that about?” Curt growled as soon as they were down the beach and out of earshot.
Avery sighed. His jealousy was so predictable. “Exactly what Anthony said. I was trying to get him interested in the band.”
“You sure that’s all you were trying to get him interested in?” Curt said.
“Oh, Curt, if you only knew,” Avery said.
“Knew what?” Curt asked.
Suddenly Avery realized how tired she was of being interrogated and constantly suspected of things she hadn’t done. “Forget it, okay?” she said. “It would be nice if you could appreciate me a little more instead of always being so jealous.”
“Right,” Curt snarled. “The guy’s tall, good-looking, the manager of a successful restaurant, and I have nothing to be jealous about.”
Avery didn’t reply. The image of Lucas appeared in her mind. Yes, perhaps Curt did have something to be jealous about. Only, he was wrong to think it was Anthony.
Thinking about Sabrina was driving Owen crazy. He had never met a girl like her before. One who blew him off after having slept with him. He’d also never met a girl he was so interested in being with. Maybe the two things were related. Or maybe it all went back to his father, whose drunken, cheating ways had pretty much ruined Owen’s mother and their family.
The good news was that he’d apologized until he was red in the face about screwing up with Tim and Jamie. To the point where Sabrina seemed to accept the apology and was at least being civil to him. In fact, at that moment he was sitting with her and April on the deck drinking strawberry daiquiris. It was a totally pink girlie drink, but it actually tasted pretty good. The sun was beginning to set, and the thin strips of cloud in the sky were alive with hues of red and purple. It had been a hot day and it was finally starting to cool a little.
“So, April,” he said. “I’ve been to your video store, I’ve been to Curt’s concert, I’ve seen Lucas at the surf shop, and I’ve helped Sabrina with the babysitting—”
Sabrina flashed him an annoyed look, as if she may have forgiven him but wasn’t ready to start joking about it. Still, Owen pushed on.
“All that’s left is to go harass Avery and Polly at their restaurant,” Owen said, leveling his gaze at Sabrina. “Who wants to go with me tomorrow? For dinner. Say about sevenish?”
“I’ll go,” Sabrina said to his amazement and delight.
“Tomorrow? I think I can make that work,” April said, clearly not picking up on the whole apparently too-subtle date invitation. Owen sighed. Well, at least it would give him another chance with Sabrina.
Curt strode out on the deck carrying a beer. Suddenly Owen felt a bit embarrassed to be sipping a pink drink.
“Hey, Curt, we’re going to go surprise Avery and Polly at the restaurant tomorrow night. Want to come?” April asked.
“Can’t. We’ve got to rehearse for the Battle of the Bands,” Curt replied, then focused on Owen. “Dude, if any of your frat friends need a band for one of their parties, you’ll put in a good word for us, right?”
“Sure,” Owen replied, although any of his “frat friends” who’d heard Curt’s band would never go for it. “I’ll do what I can, buddy.”
Meanwhile, Sabrina shot him the slightest smirk, as if to say, “Who are you kidding?”
“Thanks, man,” Curt said, starting to leave. “Nice outfit, Sabrina,” he called over his shoulder.
“Thanks.”
Owen was puzzled. He’d never heard Curt compliment anyone’s clothes before. Now he looked over at Sabrina again. Her bikini top looked new and expensive. It was black and tiny, accentuating her chest. She was wearing designer, low-rider jeans that were also tight in all the right places. Very sexy and also very expensive looking. “Wow, that is a nice outfit,” he said.
“Thanks for noticing,” she said with an amused look as if she, too, knew he hardly ever noticed things like that.
April also seemed to have just noticed the outfit. “How can you afford that on a nanny’s salary?” she asked.
“My parents bought it for me,” Sabrina said.
“I thought they were in Europe for the summer,” April said.
Sabrina shrugged noncommittally. “You never heard of the Internet?” She stood up. “Anyone want to take a walk?”
“Uh, sure,” Owen said.
“Want to come?” Sabrina asked April.
“Can’t,” April said. “Got stuff to do.”
“So, listen,” Owen said, “maybe I’ll ask Lucas if he wants to come to The Seashell tomorrow night, okay? That way it’ll be two guys and two girls.”
“Okay with me,” Sabrina said.
“Me too,” said April as she headed off. “Have fun.”
The next thing Owen knew, he and Sabrina were walking toward the boa
rdwalk. He couldn’t quite believe it had happened so fast. Now he was walking beside this incredibly hot babe. Almost every guy, and girl, who approached them couldn’t take their eyes off her.
“So, uh, what do you want to do?” he asked.
“Ferris wheel.”
“Excuse me?” he asked, surprised.
“The Ferris wheel,” Sabrina said. “I want to go on it. How about you?”
“Sure!” He was ready to do just about anything she wanted.
“I haven’t been on it yet and it’s on my summer To-Do list,” she said.
Owen was tempted to ask if he was on her summer “To-Do list.” Or, more appropriately, her “To-Do Again list,” but he managed to suppress the comment. Together they strolled down the boardwalk, looking at the lights and different rides and attractions.
Fifteen minutes later they were sitting on a seat on the Ferris wheel as the attendant locked them in. Owen thought briefly about putting his arm around Sabrina, but decided not to push his luck. The Ferris wheel creaked. Their seat started to sway and then rose gracefully into the air. They sailed up into the sky until the ocean, pier, and beach all seemed at their feet. Below them was the crazy swirl of red, blue, and green that beckoned strollers to explore, spend, laugh, and play.
“It’s beautiful,” Sabrina whispered beside him.
He looked over and thought he saw only sincerity in her eyes. He hadn’t seen her in such an unguarded moment since the night they’d spent together, and it made him want to know her better and be with her all the time.
Slowly the chair began its descent. Lights and people came back into sharp focus, and the sounds of music and laughter rushed at them. They reached the bottom and then began to climb upward once more. At the top they came to a gentle stop.
“Thank you,” she said, lacing her fingers through his.
Owen wasn’t sure what she was thanking him for, and he decided not to ask. He sat still, afraid to move, or even to breathe in case he might break the spell. Above them the moon hung high in the night sky, casting a reflection down onto the water. Only the smells of the ocean reached them as they sat suspended above the chaos of people and music and junk food. He let his breath out when the seat began to move again. At the bottom, the attendant let them out. As they exited the ride, Sabrina kept her hand in his.