Meet Me at the Boardwalk by Erin Haft Page B

fifteen seconds; whatever the length, it was excruciating. Then Miles let out a deep long sigh and tossed his skateboard back on wooden planks.
    “You know, they really are tearing down this whole boardwalk,” he said so quietly that I could barely hear him. “They’re gonna build a dock that leads to a casino boat. They’re gonna ruin all the surfing, so people can gamble instead.”
    I chewed my lip, resisting the temptation to reassure him that all this boardwalk stuff was just dumb gossip. “Is that what Lily-Ann said?” I asked.
    “Megan. Last night on the phone. She said Roth was gonna make the announcement at Clam-Fest next month.”
    “Oh.” A lone teardrop slipped down my cheek. I wasn’t crying, though. Absolutely not. It was just the wind and the unseasonable coldness. I quickly wiped it away before Miles could see. “She told you this on the phone, after…” Again, I resisted a serious temptation to add: After you smooched Lily-Ann Roth good night? “Miles, there really is something I have to ask you. Did you ever tell Megan that we—”
    “I didn’t tell Megan anything. You know I wouldn’t.”
    I nodded. “Got it.” Well, this conversation had gone on about long enough. So I reverted to my usual M.O. I turned and ran away—Sarah-and-the-Jupiter-Bounce be damned. Why care about work? As far as summer jobs went, I wasonly good at getting myself or my best friends fired. Miles didn’t call after me. As my flip-flops slapped the boardwalk, I only prayed that Turkey would still be asleep, so I could crawl into my cozy little shell of a bed.
    Turquoise was awake.
    Of course, she was. She was slurping coffee at the kitchen table, glued to her laptop, with a bunch of thick law books strewn everywhere. She’d go blind if she kept staring at that screen eighteen hours a day. Which it seemed she already had, given her new penchant for hideous secondhand skirts and tie-dyed concert T-shirts.
    “What are you doing home?” she asked. “Don’t you have work?”
    I slumped into the chair across from her. “What’s the point of working?” I lay my head on the table, burying my face in the crook of my arm. “They’re gonna tear down the boardwalk, anyway. I figured I might as well say good-bye to the Jupiter Bounce now. Less painful that way.”
    “Jade, are you okay?”
    “Fine,” I mumbled.
    “Jade, look at me.”
    I lifted my head. “What?”
    Turquoise shoved her laptop aside and gave me one of those annoying, smarter-older-sister stares. “What’s going on? I mean it. Something just happened. What is it?”
    “How do you know?” I asked.
    “Because I am your sister,” she said simply, as if she’d read my mind.
    For some stupid asinine reason, that made my throat tighten all over again. I resumed my ostrich-in-the-sand, head-in-arm slouch. “Miles and I got into a fight.”
    “About the party? About breaking the pact?”
    I wasn’t quite sure how to answer that. It was about all that, but in other ways, it wasn’t about that at all. It was about Miles and me, and how we had this secret that we were still keeping from Megan. “Sort of,” I mumbled. “I don’t even know. I got Meg fired, and he’s really pissed off about it.”
    “Jade, you did not get Megan fired,” Turquoise soothed.
    I raised my head again. “I broke into her employer’s home and made out with her gardener on their couch—oh, while under the influence of alcohol. Those are the facts, Turkey. You lawyers do have a keen eye for the facts.”
    Turquoise laughed. “Those actually aren’t the facts. At least, not all of them.”
    “You want to explain?” I asked, and I meant it. At this point, even a lecture from Turquoise would be tolerable, if only to ease my shattered conscience.
    “Megan told you to take the keys. I heard her. Your going to the Roths’ was her idea.”
    I hesitated for a moment. I tried to replay the series of events, but most of it was lost in the red haze of that punch. I