need some time on the ocean. You want to go surfing tomorrow?”
“Yes,” I said, glad he couldn’t see me smiling. Neither of us had talked about our surfing date since the morning I’d canceled. I kept waiting for him to bring it up, but he hadn’t. Maybe he was waiting for me to bring it up. We were in some kind of standoff, and my interest in the date had risen an additional ten percent every day it went unmentioned. I had reserved tomorrow afternoon for running and going over lacrosse drills, but surfing was a form of exercise, wasn’t it?
“You’re so tense you’re like a shrinky dink,” he said just as the door was flung open.
“What the hell is going on in here?” Karla asked.
Ben lifted his hands. I instantly missed them. They were experts, those hands.
“I had a muscle spasm,” I said. “Ben was helping me.”
“I’m sure he was,” Karla said. Her glare scared me. Authority figures rarely looked at me with anything other than affection or relief. Her eyes were full of accusation. “You guys know my policy about staff relationships, right? You get into one, you’re outta here.”
“Um, I actually didn’t know that policy,” I said, standing up, no problem. My neck was miraculously healed.
“Karla,” Ben said, cool as a gimlet. He pulled a carton of milk from the high shelf and handed it to me. “I walked in here and she was doubled over in pain.”
“Well, just don’t make me call you into my office, okay? Ben, you of all people should know better, and that bar’s not going to prep itself. Cricket, you have a visitor.”
“I do?” I took my milk and headed to the floor. My heart pirouetted. For a second, I thought it might be Zack.
It was Jules, in her black bikini and paisley cover-up, all long legs, highlights, and freckles. I felt a kick of disappointment. Would I ever learn? She helped herself to a couple of olives from the bar and asked, “What happened to you?”
“What do you mean?” I nodded toward a table where a stack of napkins awaited folding.
“You’re all flushed and flustered and shit.”
I shook my head and waved my hand, like, Oh, nothing , but I must’ve glanced at Ben without realizing it, because Jules took him in, his magic hands full of lemons, and cocked an eyebrow. I shrugged. She grinned.
“Well,” she said, folding her slender hands on the table as we sat down. “I’m here for a few reasons. There’s something about Parker—”
“Jules, I can’t even…” I trailed off as Jules knocked some sand off her foot onto the floor. Karla had warned us that club members acted like they owned this place. And that’s good, she’d said. That’s how they’re supposed to feel. Still, I had to bite my cheek to stop myself from making a face. I’d swept that floor twenty minutes ago. I peeled a napkin from the stack and started folding. “I don’t want to hear about them.”
“It’s just that, well, it’s complicated,” Jules said.
“Yeah, you’ve both told me.”
“And, like, so stereotypical.”
“I don’t want to know,” I said. The last thing I wanted was a whiff of hope. I’d volunteered to take the indoor section every night, the one nearest the entrance. It was the least desirable. The big spenders all wanted to sit on the porch or the patio, but I was willing to take the less lucrative section if it meant I didn’t have to risk seeing Zack and Parker frolicking on the beach.
“Okay,” Jules sighed. “If you say so. Do you want to go to the beach tomorrow?”
“I’m going surfing,” I said, and I nodded in Ben’s direction.
“How old is he?” she mouthed.
Twenty-two, I mouthed back.
“Then the next day,” she said, standing and tossing her bag over her shoulder. “We’ll have lots to talk about. Meet me at the club at noon.”
“Will they let me in?”
“Of course.” Her laugh was as sunny as her freckled face. Never had she looked so pretty. Never had she sounded more grown-up. “Just tell
“Yes,” I said, glad he couldn’t see me smiling. Neither of us had talked about our surfing date since the morning I’d canceled. I kept waiting for him to bring it up, but he hadn’t. Maybe he was waiting for me to bring it up. We were in some kind of standoff, and my interest in the date had risen an additional ten percent every day it went unmentioned. I had reserved tomorrow afternoon for running and going over lacrosse drills, but surfing was a form of exercise, wasn’t it?
“You’re so tense you’re like a shrinky dink,” he said just as the door was flung open.
“What the hell is going on in here?” Karla asked.
Ben lifted his hands. I instantly missed them. They were experts, those hands.
“I had a muscle spasm,” I said. “Ben was helping me.”
“I’m sure he was,” Karla said. Her glare scared me. Authority figures rarely looked at me with anything other than affection or relief. Her eyes were full of accusation. “You guys know my policy about staff relationships, right? You get into one, you’re outta here.”
“Um, I actually didn’t know that policy,” I said, standing up, no problem. My neck was miraculously healed.
“Karla,” Ben said, cool as a gimlet. He pulled a carton of milk from the high shelf and handed it to me. “I walked in here and she was doubled over in pain.”
“Well, just don’t make me call you into my office, okay? Ben, you of all people should know better, and that bar’s not going to prep itself. Cricket, you have a visitor.”
“I do?” I took my milk and headed to the floor. My heart pirouetted. For a second, I thought it might be Zack.
It was Jules, in her black bikini and paisley cover-up, all long legs, highlights, and freckles. I felt a kick of disappointment. Would I ever learn? She helped herself to a couple of olives from the bar and asked, “What happened to you?”
“What do you mean?” I nodded toward a table where a stack of napkins awaited folding.
“You’re all flushed and flustered and shit.”
I shook my head and waved my hand, like, Oh, nothing , but I must’ve glanced at Ben without realizing it, because Jules took him in, his magic hands full of lemons, and cocked an eyebrow. I shrugged. She grinned.
“Well,” she said, folding her slender hands on the table as we sat down. “I’m here for a few reasons. There’s something about Parker—”
“Jules, I can’t even…” I trailed off as Jules knocked some sand off her foot onto the floor. Karla had warned us that club members acted like they owned this place. And that’s good, she’d said. That’s how they’re supposed to feel. Still, I had to bite my cheek to stop myself from making a face. I’d swept that floor twenty minutes ago. I peeled a napkin from the stack and started folding. “I don’t want to hear about them.”
“It’s just that, well, it’s complicated,” Jules said.
“Yeah, you’ve both told me.”
“And, like, so stereotypical.”
“I don’t want to know,” I said. The last thing I wanted was a whiff of hope. I’d volunteered to take the indoor section every night, the one nearest the entrance. It was the least desirable. The big spenders all wanted to sit on the porch or the patio, but I was willing to take the less lucrative section if it meant I didn’t have to risk seeing Zack and Parker frolicking on the beach.
“Okay,” Jules sighed. “If you say so. Do you want to go to the beach tomorrow?”
“I’m going surfing,” I said, and I nodded in Ben’s direction.
“How old is he?” she mouthed.
Twenty-two, I mouthed back.
“Then the next day,” she said, standing and tossing her bag over her shoulder. “We’ll have lots to talk about. Meet me at the club at noon.”
“Will they let me in?”
“Of course.” Her laugh was as sunny as her freckled face. Never had she looked so pretty. Never had she sounded more grown-up. “Just tell
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