The au pairs skinny-dipping by Melissa de La Cruz
Authors: Melissa de La Cruz
Tags: General, Juvenile Fiction, Children: Young Adult (Gr. 7-9), Young Adult Fiction, Art, Children's & young adult fiction & true stories, The Arts, Au pairs
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to the porch.
"What about dinner next week at Lunch--just the two of us?" Eliza asked. She hated how desperate she sounded.
"Maybe." He sighed. "Things are really busy at the office."
"Don't go," she said, her lips trembling. She lifted up her chin to be kissed, willing him to understand.
Jeremy sighed and looked like he was about to walk away, but he bent his head down instead. They stood under the porch light kissing for what seemed to Eliza to be a sweet eternity.
"I love you, you know," she said, muffled into his shirt.
"I know," he said, reluctantly pulling away. "But I've got to
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get back into work early tomorrow, and I can't miss the last train." He climbed into his rusty pickup truck, the one remnant of his former occupation.
Eliza watched him drive away and wondered when she would see him again. She hadn't failed to notice that when she'd said, "I love you," he hadn't said it back.
110
kryptonite is to superman as boys are to jacqui
TO JACQUI'S CHAGRIN, THE SAT PREP CLASS SHE'D SIGNED up for was filled with overachieving rich kids who were striving for nothing less than a perfect showing--which made her scores on the first diagnostic test even more depressing. Jacqui had just stuffed her SAT books in the backseat of the Prius that evening when she saw Philippe ride up on a Vespa. He took off his helmet and shook out his hair. "Arrete!" he said when he saw Jacqui.
She leaned against the door of the car and smiled. "What's up?"
He shrugged, smiling his devastating grin. "Pas beaucoup. Where are you going?"
"Class," she explained. "It's Wednesday, remember?"
Jacqui had told him about the class the other night, when he'd stumbled in around midnight and found her studying her SAT book. She told him about her SAT prep course, and he'd affectionately teased her about what a distraction she must be to
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all the dorks in the class. Philippe's plan for his life was to win the Rolex tennis invitational, turn pro, follow the circuit, and generally have a great time bouncing from one sunny resort town to another. His entire ambition in life was to become a tennis bum.
"Come play pool with me instead," Philippe invited. "You can skip one class, no? He smiled roguishly, looking her up and down in an inviting manner.
Jacqui bit her lip. Playing pool with Philippe sounded like so much more fun than sitting in a damp basement solving word problems. She'd hardly had a bit of excitement in weeks. To think that she, Jacqui, was actually the one who was shouldering most of the work with the kids. She was proud of that, since she did have a knack for it, but she missed having fun.
Philippe took her hand, and they tiptoed to the main house. They made their way to the screening room, where a billiard table sat in the corner. One of the most amazing things about the Perrys' house was that there was hardly ever anyone home to enjoy its wealth of amusements. The twins were always out at some party, Ryan kept to his room when he was home, and the many toys--the sixteen-foot projection screen, the ATVs parked next to the beachfront, the vintage Pac Man and pinball machines--mostly went unused. Philippe racked the balls and Jacqui broke, sinking a solid yellow ball in a corner pocket.
"So where've you been anyway?" she asked, rubbing chalk
112
on her pool cue. Philippe had been MIA for a few days. She leaned over the table to assess her next shot. She flubbed an easy one, sending a ball to the opposite corner instead of the near pocket.
"I had to go visit the French consulate and Anna needed me to help with something, so we spent a couple of days in New York," he said, walking around the table and studying the angles for his shot.
"Mmmm . . . Just the two of you?"
Philippe shrugged and sank a striped ball. "Oui. Have you been to their townhouse in the city? It's beautiful," he said.
Jacqui felt ridiculous for feeling a little jealous, but she did. She'd been so sure Philippe was interested in her--but even though
"What about dinner next week at Lunch--just the two of us?" Eliza asked. She hated how desperate she sounded.
"Maybe." He sighed. "Things are really busy at the office."
"Don't go," she said, her lips trembling. She lifted up her chin to be kissed, willing him to understand.
Jeremy sighed and looked like he was about to walk away, but he bent his head down instead. They stood under the porch light kissing for what seemed to Eliza to be a sweet eternity.
"I love you, you know," she said, muffled into his shirt.
"I know," he said, reluctantly pulling away. "But I've got to
109
get back into work early tomorrow, and I can't miss the last train." He climbed into his rusty pickup truck, the one remnant of his former occupation.
Eliza watched him drive away and wondered when she would see him again. She hadn't failed to notice that when she'd said, "I love you," he hadn't said it back.
110
kryptonite is to superman as boys are to jacqui
TO JACQUI'S CHAGRIN, THE SAT PREP CLASS SHE'D SIGNED up for was filled with overachieving rich kids who were striving for nothing less than a perfect showing--which made her scores on the first diagnostic test even more depressing. Jacqui had just stuffed her SAT books in the backseat of the Prius that evening when she saw Philippe ride up on a Vespa. He took off his helmet and shook out his hair. "Arrete!" he said when he saw Jacqui.
She leaned against the door of the car and smiled. "What's up?"
He shrugged, smiling his devastating grin. "Pas beaucoup. Where are you going?"
"Class," she explained. "It's Wednesday, remember?"
Jacqui had told him about the class the other night, when he'd stumbled in around midnight and found her studying her SAT book. She told him about her SAT prep course, and he'd affectionately teased her about what a distraction she must be to
111
all the dorks in the class. Philippe's plan for his life was to win the Rolex tennis invitational, turn pro, follow the circuit, and generally have a great time bouncing from one sunny resort town to another. His entire ambition in life was to become a tennis bum.
"Come play pool with me instead," Philippe invited. "You can skip one class, no? He smiled roguishly, looking her up and down in an inviting manner.
Jacqui bit her lip. Playing pool with Philippe sounded like so much more fun than sitting in a damp basement solving word problems. She'd hardly had a bit of excitement in weeks. To think that she, Jacqui, was actually the one who was shouldering most of the work with the kids. She was proud of that, since she did have a knack for it, but she missed having fun.
Philippe took her hand, and they tiptoed to the main house. They made their way to the screening room, where a billiard table sat in the corner. One of the most amazing things about the Perrys' house was that there was hardly ever anyone home to enjoy its wealth of amusements. The twins were always out at some party, Ryan kept to his room when he was home, and the many toys--the sixteen-foot projection screen, the ATVs parked next to the beachfront, the vintage Pac Man and pinball machines--mostly went unused. Philippe racked the balls and Jacqui broke, sinking a solid yellow ball in a corner pocket.
"So where've you been anyway?" she asked, rubbing chalk
112
on her pool cue. Philippe had been MIA for a few days. She leaned over the table to assess her next shot. She flubbed an easy one, sending a ball to the opposite corner instead of the near pocket.
"I had to go visit the French consulate and Anna needed me to help with something, so we spent a couple of days in New York," he said, walking around the table and studying the angles for his shot.
"Mmmm . . . Just the two of you?"
Philippe shrugged and sank a striped ball. "Oui. Have you been to their townhouse in the city? It's beautiful," he said.
Jacqui felt ridiculous for feeling a little jealous, but she did. She'd been so sure Philippe was interested in her--but even though
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