The Shore by Todd Strasser

The smell of cigarette smoke was suddenly in the air. Avery turned and saw silhouettes and the red embers of cigarettes glowing in the night. A group of guys was approaching. The leader wore a white shirt unbuttoned at the collar and a yellow polo shirt underneath. It was Martin,the football player who’d hit on her the night before.
    â€œYo, Owen!” Martin said. “Whassup?”
    Owen stopped staggering. “Martin, dude! Take me away.”
    â€œAway we go.”
    Owen staggered toward his friends. They clapped him on the back and welcomed him into the group, then headed off in the dark.
    â€œI hate those kinds of guys,” April muttered.
    But the good news was that Polly and Fred had drawn near each other. Fred whispered something to Polly that made her laugh. Avery smiled, glad that someone was still having a good time.
    â€œGuess it’s time to clean up,” Lucas said, and started to shake out the beach blankets. Avery started picking up plates, and April, Fred, and Polly joined in. Sabrina followed, carrying some forks. They were all a little smashed—not as bad as Owen, but enough that no one could quite make the trip back to the house in a straight line.
    A few moments later, in the kitchen, they dumped the stuff on the counter. Fred started to roll up his sleeves.
    â€œYou don’t have to help,” said Sabrina, who leaned against the counter and watched while the others started to clean up.
    â€œI want to,” said Fred.
    â€œYou’re our landlord,” she said. “Remember?”
    For a second it almost appeared that Fred had forgotten. Now he straightened up. “Yes, of course. Well, thanks for dinner.”
    He left. Avery glanced at Polly and saw the corners of her mouth turn down.
    â€œI really don’t get that guy,” Sabrina said. “I mean, you almost get the feeling he’s a landlord because it’s the only way he can find friends. What a loser.”
    No one else commented. They neither agreed, nor dared to disagree. Lucas positioned himself in front of the sink and started to wash the dishes.
    â€œThere’s no dishwasher?” April asked, surprised.
    Avery hadn’t looked before; she just assumed there was one. Didn’t every house have a dishwasher these days?
    â€œI’m too tired to clean up.” Sabrina yawned.
    Avery didn’t believe her, and from the expressions of the others, she was pretty sure that no one else did either. But she wasn’t in the mood to deal with Sabrina’s attitude. Instead she said, “That’s okay, we’ve got it this time, ” making sure to place emphasis on the last two words. Next to her, April snickered slightly, but no one said anything more.
    Even with all four of them washing, it seemed to take a long time to clean up. Maybe because they were all a little unsteady. Avery was glad that Lucas was pitching in. She really didn’t want to think of him as a slacker. “We should get paper plates if we’re going to do this again,” she said.
    â€œOr at least have Polly talk Fred into buying a dishwasher for this place,” April added.
    â€œWhy me?” Polly asked.
    â€œBecause Fred’s got a thing for you,” April said. Lucas’s eyes met Avery’s and he smiled.
    â€œNo, he doesn’t,” Polly protested, but Avery thought she detected just the slightest hint of pleasure on the girl’s face.
    â€œDoes so,” April said.
    Polly gave Lucas and Avery a quizzical look.
    â€œShe could be right,” Lucas said.
    â€œIt’s a compliment,” Avery said. “After all, before you showed up, he had his eye on Sabrina.”
    Polly looked somewhat dismayed. “Oh, great, the guy who everyone else thinks is a dork.”
    Avery knew right away that Polly was fishing for a protest. “He’s not a dork, and, anyway it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.”
    â€œUp to a point,”