Tan Lines: Sand, Surf, and Secrets / Rays, Romance, and Rivalry / Beaches, Boys, and Betrayal

by Katherine Applegate

  “You into classical?”

  “I’ll listen to pretty much anything.” Diver grinned. “Especially the ocean.” He pulled a CD off the shelf. “You’ve got a lot of these. Caleb Reed. Is he good?”

  “Was. He’s my dad.”

  “He’s…gone?”

  “In a manner of speaking. He has Huntington’s disease. He’s what you might call going.”

  Diver nodded solemnly. He returned the CD to the shelf gently, almost reverently.

  The simple gesture touched Austin. When the subject of his dad came up, most people mouthed platitudes or asked prying questions. But Diver knew better than to do either. Yeah, he was going to be an okay roommate.

  Too bad he would also serve as a constant reminder of Summer.

  Austin crumpled his beer can and stood a little unsteadily. “Well, I’m off to ply my trade. You got a key, right?”

  Diver nodded. “You sure you don’t want to come by the party tonight?”

  “Real sure.” Austin grabbed a pen and notepad for work. “Make yourself at home. I’ll see you later.”

  Outside, the air carried the fresh tang of the ocean. Austin made his way down the winding streets of Coconut Key at a leisurely pace. He wasn’t in any hurry. He didn’t really care if they fired him at Jitters. One way or another, he was going to have to find a different job anyway. He couldn’t keep working there, not with Summer so close by.

  Maybe he should move to Boca Beach, up the coast. His dad was in the hospital there, and Austin could visit him more often. It would probably do more good for Austin than for his dad, who was pretty far gone.

  Still, it seemed like the right thing to do. Stick around for the death vigil.

  And while he was at it, get a glimpse of the future.

  Suddenly the street began to sway. The beer and the sun were making him a little dizzy, he told himself—that was all. He leaned against a palm tree, the spiny trunk like knives against his back.

  The reality of his situation hit him like that every so often, sneak attacks that left him winded and disoriented. He knew the truth, of course. Every waking moment he knew it. But he only felt it now and then, often when he least expected it.

  He resumed walking, more slowly now. A beautiful blond girl in a string bikini skated past, but he barely noticed her.

  He wondered, not for the first time, if he should have told Summer the truth. It wasn’t as if she couldn’t have handled it. She would have been great. A real trouper.

  And it would have been nice, so nice, to have someone to share the burden with. His brother knew, and his mom, but it was different with them. They saw the world through the dark lens of their own experience. When his brother learned he’d inherited the same defective gene that had caused Austin’s father’s slow demise, he’d seriously considered killing himself.

  No, they could see the world only in terms of their own genetic bad luck.

  But Summer would have been different. She would have come up with hopeful things to say. “It will be years and years before you have any symptoms yourself, Austin. They’re doing all kinds of exciting genetic research. You can’t give up hope, not this soon.”

  It would have been great to hear someone say those things. Even if they weren’t necessarily true.

  But he’d lied to her. Said he’d gone to the genetics clinic and passed the test with flying colors. He’d wanted to spare her the knowledge. It would have been cruel to tell her.

  Of course, if he’d really been noble, he would have walked out of her life for good a long time ago and never come back. It was probably wrong for him to have tried to get her back, knowing what he knew.

  He paused in front of the Victorian house where Jitters was located. The café looked busy, full of loud tourists. He stared up at the third-floor balcony, Summer’s balcony. There was no sign of her.

  She was gone, lost to him.

  He wondered if he could have fought harder to keep her. Probably, he decided. But in his heart he knew it was fairer to her to let her go.

  Maybe this was just how things were meant to turn out. He didn’t bother asking why. He didn’t try to find an explanation—fate, the stars, bad karma, bad luck. That was one thing his father’s slow dying had taught him: Asking why was a waste of breath.

  12

  The Case of the Incredible Shrinking Knuckle

  Diver skirted the foaming surf, enjoying the feel of the wet, packed sand as it first resisted and then gave way to his feet. The quiet water was surprisingly warm. The first stars of the evening glittered low on the horizon, delicate pinpricks of golden light.

  He loved the beach. It was home. Sometimes he wondered if he really had been born in Minnesota. Here at the edge of the world, where the land gave out and slipped into the sea, was the only place he truly felt at peace.

  Two girls jogged by on the sand. As soon as they were past him, one of the girls let loose an earsplitting wolf whistle. Diver looked back, and they picked up their speed, giggling musically.

  He shook his head. Will, one of the guys at his old job, had claimed Diver was a “babe magnet.” And sometimes Diver wondered if there was some strange truth to it. Girls did seem to be awfully interested in him. It should have been flattering, he supposed. But it always made him a little uncomfortable when some girl, an utter stranger, made a move on him. How he looked on the outside, after all, had nothing to do with who he was on the inside. It always surprised him that girls didn’t understand that better.

  He stooped to pick up a nice unbroken shell. He heard the soft shuffle of footsteps in the sand and looked up to see a figure, a girl, approaching him with a determined gait.

  He kept low, hoping to avoid another embarrassing flirtation. In the scant starlight, it took him a minute to register the short, stylish blond hair and pretty features.

  Caroline.

  Diver tossed the shell aside and stood. There was no need to panic. He’d brushed her off easily at the hospital. If she pressed any more, he’d just shrug and deny whatever she had to say.

  “Paul. I was hoping you’d show up tonight.”

  She stood before him, hands on hips, much smaller than he was but intimidating nevertheless. She was wearing a black one-piece suit and a black nylon windbreaker. She very nearly blended into the night.

  Diver gave a laugh. “Boy, I wish I could help you out. I mean, any guy in his right mind would have loved to have you for a next-door neighbor. But like I said, you’ve got the wrong guy. I’ve never even been to Virginia.”

  She smiled coolly. “That’s too bad,” she said in her smooth southern accent. “And here I went to all the trouble of having this faxed to me. On my vacation, no less. What a shame.” Caroline reached into the pocket of her windbreaker and retrieved a neatly folded piece of paper. “Still, you might want to read it anyway. Just to be sure.”

  Diver took the paper from her. Even in the darkness, he could see it was a copy of a newspaper article.

  “I know it’s kind of dark to read, but you can probably make out the pictures just fine.”

  Diver didn’t have to look. He’d saved the same clipping. It was yellow around the edges now and crisp to the touch.

  The fire. What remained of his house.

  And beside that photo, another, smaller one. From his seventh-grade yearbook, a blond, blue-eyed boy with an attitude, refusing to smile for the school photographer.

  The caption read “Missing Youth, Suspect in Arson Death.”

  Caroline touched his arm. Her fingers were cool. Her smile was pretty, believable the same way an artificial Christmas tree seems real from far away.

  “I’d really like to talk to you, Paul.”

  It wasn’t a request.

  “I have nothing to say to you.” Diver pushed past her.

  She ran to catch up and grabbed his arm. He stopped.

  “You know, I’m thinking that a murder suspect doesn’t really have a lot of negotiating room,” Caroline said, Sunday-school teacher sweet. �
�Tomorrow afternoon, your place.”

  Diver closed his eyes. “All right. Just…don’t say anything to anyone till then. Deal?”

  “Oh, your secret’s safe with me, Paul.” She let go of his arm. “It’ll be fun. Just a couple of neighbors chatting about old times.”

  “I’m staying—”

  “I know where you’re staying.” Caroline started back toward the party. “I’ve done my homework. Now come on. We’ve got a beach party to attend. And I even promise to call you Diver.”

  Summer took Seth’s hand and pulled him toward the water. “Come on, you big baby,” she teased. “The water’s incredibly warm. I know you’re used to mellow Pacific Ocean water now, but this’ll have to do.”

  She pulled Seth in while the others, sitting on the sand, laughed and applauded.

  When the water was waist deep, Seth wrapped his arms around Summer and held her close as the gentle waves nudged them.

  “This is nice,” he said.

  “Are you sure?” Summer asked. “You’ve been so quiet. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea, coming here to the party with all these people.”

  She glanced back at the beach. Blythe, Caroline, and some other people, friends of Blythe and people from the apartment building, were gathered around a small bonfire. Rihanna was playing on the CD player someone had brought along. Marquez and Diver were off by themselves, slow-dancing. Two other couples were dancing at the edge of the water, including Diana and some guy who was a high-school friend of Blythe’s. The guy was cute in a gawky way, but he wasn’t Diana’s type. She was probably just being polite.

  It had been a nice party, with good food and lots of laughs. And in a way it had been a relief to have a lot of people around to keep things from getting too difficult with Seth. It didn’t hurt to have the whole defensive lineup there, but Summer knew it couldn’t last much longer.

  They needed to talk. All evening Seth had been watching her doubtfully and speaking too politely, as if she were his just-arrived mail-order bride.

  Maybe it didn’t mean anything. Diana and Diver had been quiet, too. Maybe it was just the rich food and the hot night air and the endless whisper of the waves lulling people into silence.

  “I guess I haven’t been very talkative,” Seth admitted. “I’ve had a lot on my mind.” He took a deep breath. “So. Tell me the truth. Have you missed me?”

  She tried to ignore the edge in his voice. “Of course I have. Have you missed me?”

  “More than you know. What have you been up to?”

  Again the harsh tone. “You know, just…job-hunting, mostly. Unsuccessfully. I have another interview tomorrow, though.” She crossed her fingers. “Maybe this time they’ll take pity on me.”

  Seth stared at her hand, the crossed fingers, the little fake ring.

  “Summer,” he said softly. “I love you.”

  He pulled her close and kissed her for a long time. It wasn’t like his familiar kisses. It was shy, the tentative, hopeful kiss of a first date.

  He let her go and took her left hand. He cupped it in both of his and lifted it to his lips. His hands, to her surprise, were trembling.

  He kissed her fingers, then pulled back, admiring her ring.

  “It looks nice in the moonlight, doesn’t it?” he said.

  She nodded but said nothing.

  “I was worried when I got it,” Seth continued. “You know, would it fit, would it be the right one. But then I saw it and I knew. The jeweler told me it was one of a kind—did I tell you that?”

  He reached for the ring, clasped the band with his fingers, and tugged a little. “It’s loose. That’s weird. I could barely get it past your knuckle, remember?”

  Summer swallowed. “Guess I’ve lost weight.”

  “In your knuckle?” Seth laughed, but it wasn’t exactly a happy laugh. He pulled a little harder on the ring.

  Summer yanked her hand away. “Seth, you can’t take it off.”

  “Why not?” he demanded. “Haven’t you ever?”

  “No. It would be bad luck. I’m sure there’s some kind of old wives’ tale about that. Like seeing the bride in her gown before the wedding.”

  Seth was staring at her. His dark eyes glowed in the moonlight. She shivered even though the air was hot. She had a queasy feeling in her gut, the one she got when she knew she was making a mess of things.

  “Let me see the ring, Summer.”

  “Why?”

  Seth held out his hand. Summer hesitated. After a moment she slipped the ring off her finger.

  He held it up to the moonlight, the shining emblem of her stupidity and weakness.

  Why hadn’t she just told him the truth, told him everything? There was a lesson there somewhere. Don’t avoid pain—just get it over with like an adult.

  Or at least don’t go buying replacement rings at Woolworth’s.

  Like a savvy buyer, Seth studied the ring, squinting at it in the darkness. He was looking for something. He knew.

  How did he know? Could he have read it in her eyes? She wasn’t exactly a poker face. Had he noticed the cheap setting? The loose fit?

  Could Diana have let the truth slip?

  He ran the tip of his index finger inside the band. “There’s engraving,” he pronounced. He seemed satisfied, but she saw disappointment in his eyes. “I didn’t have your ring engraved,” he pointed out flatly. “Did you have the ring engraved?”

  “No.”

  “Then what does this say?”

  Summer sighed. It was over. She’d been caught. She deserved her fate.

  “I believe,” she said quietly, “it says ‘Made in Taiwan.’”

  Seth drew back his arm. With a great heave, he hurled the ring far out into the black water.

  It landed without a sound. Strange, Summer thought, for such a big moment. There should have been a huge splash, maybe even a tidal wave.

  “Tell me it all,” Seth said.

  13

  They Say Confession Is Good for the Soul

  They headed back to the beach and walked in silence for a while, until the noise of the party had evaporated in the night air.

  “I was painting the door,” Summer began.

  She sat on the beach. Seth sat too, leaving a wide space between them. They both stared out at the black, sluggish ocean, avoiding each other’s gaze.

  “Painting,” Seth repeated doubtfully.

  “I’d already gotten some paint on the ring once,” Summer said, “and I didn’t want to get any more on it. I was afraid it might not come off.”

  “Not come off,” Seth repeated again.

  “Well, how should I know? I’ve never had a diamond before. I’m not adult enough to have real jewelry, Seth. Before we got engaged, the most expensive thing I’d ever owned was that pin in the shape of Minnesota my aunt Ethel gave me. And I never wore that, except to family reunions. And Aunt Ethel’s funeral. I mean, how the heck was I supposed to know?”

  She took note of the hysterical pitch in her voice and resolved to stay calm. She was a criminal spilling it all to a cop. A penitent confessing to a priest. There was no point in getting all emotional about it.

  “So you took off the ring—”

  “And I put it on the windowsill in a Dixie cup, and the next thing I knew the cup was empty and the ring was gone. We searched the apartment for hours, and outside too. Under the window, in the bushes, you name it.”

  “The gutters?”

  “Diver checked those.”

  “Under the bed, that sort of thing? It could have rolled anywhere, right?”

  “Trust me, I looked. I was frantic, Seth. But I kept thinking that there had to be a logical explanation, that it’d turn up, that it had to turn up. People don’t just suddenly lose their engagement rings, except maybe in movies.” She sighed. “Of course, usually those are comedies.”

  “Go on.”

  “Well, the thing is, I didn’t want to tell you because I thought you’d take it as some kind of omen. Like it m
eant something. Sort of a Freudian slip.”

  She stole a glance at Seth. He was nodding slowly, reserving judgment.

  “So when you called and said you were coming,” Summer continued, “Marquez and I went out and tried to find a duplicate ring. We must have gone to every store on the Key. And then finally, when I was just about to give up, I found the perfect imitation.”

  “The one I just threw into the ocean.”

  “We found it in the jewelry section at Woolworth’s.”

  Seth winced.

  “I mean, it’s not like it was anywhere near as beautiful,” Summer hastened to add. “But I thought it might be enough to get by until…until I found the real one. Which probably sounds incredibly stupid and naive, not to mention really, really chicken.”

  “Yeah. Especially the chicken part.”

  “I didn’t want to upset you, Seth. I know how hard you worked for that ring. And I felt like such a jerk. The truth is,” she sighed, “some squirrel probably ate it. Or some rat sneaked it away to its nest.”

  “That does seem possible,” Seth said. “Some large, conniving rat.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “I’m sorry, Seth. I’m so sorry.” She took a deep, shuddery breath. “But there’s more.”

  The hard part. The really, really hard part.

  Seth turned to her, waiting, his jaw clenched. He almost seemed to be anticipating her words. But of course he didn’t know how awful they would be.

  Summer looked away. “There’s something you should know, Seth. It’s like the ring…I should have just come out with it. But when someone you love is far away, it’s harder. It’s hard to say certain things over the phone.” She groaned. “I have no excuse. I just didn’t want you to get the wrong, you know, impression—”

  “Say it already, Summer.”

  “Austin Reed moved here.”

  She waited for the furious, shocked accusations of betrayal, but none came. Seth just gazed out at the ocean, rocking slightly in the sand.

  “He was here on Coconut Key even before Diana and Marquez and I found our apartment. He works at Jitters—you know, the café downstairs?”