“Then it’s the world we need to create. I refuse to let you hide behind bulky clothes because you are afraid that your body will change the way that you are seen. If the problem isn’t with you, give it back.”
“I don’t understand,” Betty muttered from the other side.
She might not have understood, but Ginger knew precisely what Francie was telling her. She was allowing other people to tell her what she could and couldn’t be. She was allowing those boys and her dad to say what a girl could be. They weren’t girls—she was.
“Okay,” Ginger said quietly. “I’ll give it back.”
Francie’s grin split her pretty face. “That’s the Ginger I know. You show them just what a girl can do, great figure and all. Are you still scared?”
“Terrified,” Ginger answered, “but I don’t want to be.”
Francie nodded. “I know all about being sacred. I will tell you what. If you want us to help you with your clothes, we will.”
A huge smile broke across Ginger’s face as she said, “You are the best friends a girl could possibly ask for!”
Francie laughed. “You might not think that when I tell you the next part.”
Ginger’s smile fell. “What?”
“Some of the things that need fixing are in here,” Francie said, softly tapping Ginger’s temple.
Ginger’s lips twisted wryly. “Maybe I am not the only one who needs this lesson.”
Francie thought about her reading and cringed. “Alright, let’s make a deal. If Betty can take help to raise her tuition money and Ginger can change the way she dresses, I will try and work on my reading.”
Ginger’s eyes shot to Francie. It was the first time that Francie had ever talked about it aloud. She wasn’t even sure if Betty knew about it. But from the way that Betty was nodding, it was obvious that she had known something, if not everything.
“Do we have a deal?” Francie spit on her hand and stuck it out.
The other girls were quick to do the same, and the pact was sealed.
Ginger turned around and began to walk toward home. Francie and Betty had to move double time to keep up.
“This is going to be the best summer of our lives,” Betty said with a grin.
Francie laughed, shoving her lightly. “I am glad to see you so happy. Earlier it was doom and gloom. Goodness, you change your mind like some people change their underwear.”
They all laughed and walked a few feet before Francie stopped suddenly. “I looked good in the bathing suit, didn’t I?”
Ginger’s face split into a smile as Betty chirped, “You looked phenomenal.”
Francie nodded with determination. “I’m not going to return it. This is the new me, like it or not!”
“Oh, we like it,” Betty said with her brows waggling. “Just maybe not as much as Dean Woods.”
The girl’s carefree laughter danced through the summer air as they finally made it back home.
Chapter Ten
CHAPTER 10 -
Betty listened to her uncle drone on about how to work the register. He had already given her in-depth instructions on every surfboard in the shop and how to apply the wax. Not really understanding what her uncle meant by carving out the best turns, Betty nodded anyway. The last thing she needed was for him to start all over again.
Surprisingly enough, Betty liked the smell of the wooden boards. There were lighter boards made of birch, pine, and cedar, as well as boards made out of more exotic woods that weighed almost as much as she did. They were made out of mahogany, ebony, and oak. There were also newer boards made of fiberglass and poly-something or other, that made them easier to maneuver.
Surfing had never been something that Betty had been interested in. However, the one thing she was into was cold hard cash, and her uncle promised to pay her twenty-eight dollars a week if she worked in the surf shop for six hours a day. Twenty-eight dollars! Betty could hardly fathom it! She found herself daydreaming about all of the fun things she could do with her money. Starting with paying for the academy.
“Are you even paying attention to me?” Uncle Buck’s question yanked Betty out of her thoughts.
“Erm? Yes?” Betty shot him one of her winning smiles.
Uncle Buck rolled his eyes. “Just don’t put us in the poor house, child. I need to run an errand. Can you watch the shop for an hour?”
Betty straightened before giving her uncle a sassy salute. “You can count on me.”
Uncle Buck’s lips twitched as he said, “That is what I am afraid of. Just don’t do anything that you don’t understand. In fact, if anyone comes in just tell them to wait a bit or come back.”
Betty scowled. Leaning her hip against the counter, she popped her gum. “You aren’t giving me enough credit. Besides, Francie will be getting off her shift at the pool and she promised to stop by.”
“Don’t you two run off and leave things unattended, you hear?”
“We aren’t babies, Uncle Buck,” Betty huffed.
“Um, hello?”
When the deep voice interrupted Buck and Betty, they both whipped around to see Kenny Johnson standing there with a sheepish grin. Betty, who had been leaning on the counter with her face in her palm, slipped and nearly face-planted onto the Formica surface.
Buck had the decency to swallow his laughter before speaking to Kenny. “Your new board won’t be done until Thursday. I meant to call you this afternoon.”
Kenny nodded. “Thanks, Buck, I appreciate that.”
When Kenny didn’t make a move to leave, Buck glanced from his niece to the tall young man standing across from him. Understanding blossomed across his face and he cleared his throat, saying, “I’ll just be on my way. Remember Betty, don’t touch anything.”
Betty waved her uncle off and tried to play down the blush that she knew was staining her cheeks. In a rush of words, she blurted out, “Geeze! Scare a girl!”
“You were a little lost in conversation,” Kenny said in his usual intense manner.
Betty wasn’t sure what to make of him. His perfectly styled hair framed the grooviest boy she had ever seen. Broad shoulders and a trim waist were enough to send her pulse racing. But it wasn’t until he raised an arm and rubbed the back of his neck, flexing his sculpted forearms and firm biceps, that she really felt like melting into a puddle onto the floor.
No.
No, no, no.
Betty shook her head as if to clear it. She needed to pull herself together. Would a pin-up girl act like this? Would a soon-to-be member of the elite Leopold Preparatory Academy behave in such a way?
Betty straightened, giving herself a rather harsh internal talking to.
“Are you alright?” The amusement was clear in Kenny’s tone. This more than anything caused Betty to get out of her head. Kenny was a lot of things—cool, popular, mega-cute—but amused wasn’t something that Betty would have listed in a group of adjectives for him. And yet, it fit admirably.
Opening her mouth to say something charming and witty, Betty had the sad misfortune that her brain chose that particular moment to malfunction. Or perhaps it was the fact that she only now just truly registered that Kenny Johnson, the Kenny Johnson of her dreams, was standing her uncle’s surf shop.
“Grr, I... A…” Betty stumbled over the words, not able to form a complete thought, much less an entire sentence. But her Kenny was standing not five feet away. Okay, so technically he wasn’t hers because she only had French with him and never really spoke to the boy, ever. But in her heart, and certainly in her daydreams, he was hers.
And then he smiled. The sight was arresting, riveting, causing Betty’s breath to catch as she stared. She wasn’t sure when the choirs of heaven started singing, but surely in all the world there had never been a more angelic smile.
“Kenny,” she blurted out.
“Do I know you?” he asked teasingly, tipping his head to the side.
Reality came crashing back down on Betty. Not only was Kenny not hers, they didn�
�t even live on the same planet. Kenny was cream of the crop, top dog, and Betty was…well, Betty.
“St. Mary Margaret’s,” Betty blurted out.
To hide her nervousness, she snatched up a rag and started to wipe the clean countertops. Betty was careful to avert her eyes, despite the flaming embarrassment that radiated in her cheeks. How stupid could she be? A perfectly gorgeous piece of hunk-a-licous boy like him wouldn’t be likely to remember a nobody like her.
“Oh,” he said smoothly, coming a little closer. “Are you in my year?”
There were only six hundred kids in the school. Briefly, Betty wondered what it would be like to be so cool that you didn’t even see the other people around you. She wasn’t sure she would like that.
“You sit in front of me in French class.” Betty’s voice hardened. “And last year we had History together. In fact, we were in the same grade in second, third, and sixth. Obviously, I am pretty forgettable. Was there something you needed? I am very busy.”
Betty forced herself to look up at Kenny. He was just a boy, albeit a beautiful boy, but still, he was a person just like she was.
Kenny looked around the empty shop before bringing his eyes back to hers. “Yeah, I can see you fairly hopping.”
Her fingers tightened on the countertop and her eyes narrowed as she said, “Well?”
It was Kenny’s turn to look uncomfortable.
Betty felt a rush of power. Just who did he think he was, treating her so shabbily?
Kenny glanced back at her and rubbed the back of his neck.
Betty straightened, thrusting her shoulders back and glaring at Kenny.
“I needed a board,” he blurted out.
Betty glanced around. “Well, you aren’t in the library, genius. You heard my uncle. It’s not ready yet.”
Kenny pulled his comb out of his blue jean cutoff shorts and ran it through the back of his hair. With the grease already in it. He didn’t waste any time shaping it into the perfect duck butt. He had good hair and he knew it.
Betty was getting pretty sick of his high-handed attitude. “Look, we will call you when the board is in. But you need to leave now.”
“Are you throwing me out?” he asked incredulously.
Betty whipped her hair behind her ear and pretended to check out her nails. After looking at the horrible, chewed-up things, she shoved her hands behind her back.
“There is nothing more I can do for you. If you want a different board, pick one out. If not, get lost.”
Kenny’s face crinkled in confusion.
It dawned on Betty that he still expected her to fall at his feet. Was this how he managed to make the girls go crazy? By pretending not to know a person and by making them feel bad? Bah! Betty wasn’t impressed.
Things happened in slow motion after that. She saw the moment when it dawned on him that his bad boy persona wasn’t working. She saw the way he seemed to shrink a little and his eyes widened. Was it panic? Betty wasn’t certain. But one thing was clear: she seemed to have gained the upper hand.
“Listen,” Kenny started, rubbing his hands on his 501’s and swallowing hard. “I know who you are, of course I know who you are. I was just fooling around—”
Betty cut him off. “It wasn’t funny.”
Kenny nodded, something like appreciation entering his gaze as he looked down at her. “You’re right, it wasn’t funny. I’m sorry, Betty.”
She arched a brow. “Are you?”
A faint smile crossed his face as he answered, “Yeah, I am. Hey, what do you like to do?”
“What do you care? You don’t even know me.”
Kenny frowned, and for the briefest of moments Betty wondered if she was being too hard on him.
“Maybe I want to know.” He leaned in and gave her a wink.
Betty laughed, the move he had given her so Hollywood, she couldn’t help herself.
Kenny straightened. “I should probably go.”
Betty wasn’t going to stop him. She watched as he slowly turned and made his way toward the door. Part of her wanted to call him back. He had apologized, hadn’t he?
Just as she was about to open her mouth, Kenny turned around. “Hey, I heard that you got into the academy.”
Betty nodded slowly as she answered, “Yeah, all three of us did.”
When his face wrinkled up in confusion, Betty added, “Ginger and Francie got in too.”
Kenny rubbed his hands once again on his jeans. “Are you going to the bonfire tonight? It’s an unofficial bash for the kids who are attending the academy.”
“We aren’t usually invited to beach parties,” Betty answered dryly.
Kenny was quick to answer. “You’re invited. I invited you. Bring your friends, if you want.”
Betty was uncertain—but she had always wanted to know what a beach bonfire was like. A faint blush stained her cheeks and this time, she tucked her hair behind her ear rather than tossing it.
“I’ll talk to the girls.”
Kenny grinned. “Cool. Hopefully I will see you there.”
He turned on his Converse and moved toward the door for the second time. As he opened the door, Kenny turned and looked right into Betty’s eyes. “I know who you are. Your name is Belinda Mae, and you stink at French. You have top marks in math, and you wore a purple dress on the first day of school this year. I really am sorry for being a jerk earlier. Come to the party. It’ll be fun.”
The dinging of the bell indicated that he had left. Betty was still standing there with her mouth open. She wasn’t sure if that had really happened or not. A slow smile stole across her face. She might be an idiot, but she was going to a beach party.
Chapter Eleven
CHAPTER 11-
“No, you can’t wear that, Betty, you look like a grandmother in that blouse,” Francie said behind a pile of clothes on her bed.
She watched as Betty looked down at the matronly button-up shirt she had snagged at the thrift shop for a nickel and frowned. “Is it that bad?”
Francie made a face. “For my mother, no. For you, yes. Look, I know you are against any type of—”
“Let me stop you there,” Betty said, holding up a hand. “I won’t take charity.”
Francie rolled her eyes, saying, “You’re more stubborn than a mule. Look, I have a bunch of things that don’t fit anymore. My mom doesn’t throw anything out. It’s not like I can wear it again, and it’s not like anyone went and spent the money on it for you. Don’t consider it charity. Instead, you are saving my mother from herself.”
Betty’s lips twitched. “You know, she’s not so bad.”
Francie’s head popped up. Betty didn’t talk much about her mother leaving. They all knew to steer clear of the subject. Shame washed over her; usually Francie attempted to be more sensitive about the subject.
Before she could open her mouth and apologize, Betty spoke. “Fine, what do you have?”
Francie squealed in delight and grabbed Betty’s hand. They raced out of the room and up the attic stairs. It was dark and dusty, but once Francie had pulled the chain for the single bulb, they saw the boxes of clothes labeled with Francie’s name.
“Bingo!” she called out and went to the first box.
There were several items that could possibly work. But once Francie pulled out a powder blue dress with a halter top and a bow right below the bosom, Betty fell in love.
Betty yanked her shirt off right there in the attic as Francie placed the dress over her head. It was still too big for Betty, but it looked a far sight better than what she had been wearing.
“I look stupid,” Betty whispered dejectedly.
Francie gaped at her. “You cannot be serious. Betty, this is the perfect dress for you. Come on, we only have to take it in a little on the sides.”
“I don’t know how to sew,” Betty answered with a gleam of hope in her eyes.
“Well,” Francie answered sweetly, “it’s a good thing that you have a best friend who does.”
Francie laughed. “I have hidden depths, you know.”
Twenty minutes later, Betty stood in Francie’s room and eyed herself critically in the full-length mirror. Francie had helped to pull Betty’s hair into a fashionable ponytail with enough height that she didn’t look quite as small as she normally did.
“I look good,” Betty said softly.
“You look amazing,” Francie corrected. “What time is Ginger coming to pick us up?”
Betty turned in alarm, saying, “I completely forgot. Ginger can’t make it. She is sending Dean instead.”
Francie stood stock still. “Since when are Ginger and Dean on such close terms?”
Betty shrugged. “Maybe it’s all the time they are spending at the soda shop. Dean likes to hang out with George there. You know his dad owns the place.”
Francie moved to the closet, looking at the outfit she had previously chosen. There was nothing wrong with it, per se. But that was before she knew she was going to the party in Dean Woods’ car. “What time will he be here?”
Betty glanced at the clock. “You have about ten minutes.”
It was at that moment that the doorbell rang. Francie groaned as she looked out her window and saw Kenny’s car.
Betty was quick to follow Francie to the window and let out a gasp when she saw who would be driving them to the party.
Francie didn’t have time to analyze her friend’s reaction. She needed to change—pronto!
“You go down there and stall,” Francie instructed. “I will be there in a few minutes.”
Betty knew better than to argue. As quick as she could, she made her way down the stairs.
Meanwhile, Francie was ripping clothes out of her drawers and off of her hangers. She wasn’t certain why it was so important that she looked her best. All she knew was that it was critical that she not walk down those stairs unless she was dressed to the nines.
Twelve minutes later, Francie came sailing into the living room in a pink polka dot circle skirt that went perfectly with her smart blouse trimmed in a Peter Pan collar. She had her white gloves and small matching bag dangling from her wrist.
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