“So what are you girls up to?” Adam asked.
Marquez answered. “Summer and I were going to do some shopping in town, or else drive down to Key West and hit some stores there.”
“Cool,” Adam said. “Why don’t I give you a lift down to Key West in the boat? It’s as fast as driving there, and no traffic.”
“Um, look, um, Summer,” Seth began, “if you want to look at some tiles, you know…” He let the question peter out and made a wry face. “Let’s see. Go to the hardware store to look at tiles or boat down to Key West. Wow, tough choice.”
“Actually,” Summer said, a little too quickly, “Marquez and I are going shopping for girl-type stuff, so it should probably be just a girl trip.”
“Yeah, besides, guys don’t know how to shop,” Marquez said, picking up on Summer’s hint.
“Diana, would you come with us?” Summer asked.
“What are you shopping for?” Adam asked suspiciously. “I know how to shop just fine.”
“Let’s see,” Marquez said, “what was on our list?” She began counting off on her fingers. “Oh, yeah, makeup and shampoo, and of course lots of tampons.”
“Oh. You know, we could look at tiles another day,” Seth said quickly.
“The thing is, I just remembered I have to get home,” Adam said just as quickly. “But I’ll pick you up tomorrow evening, Summer, okay?”
“And I’ll be by to finish the painting tomorrow,” Seth said.
“I can drop you at the dock,” Adam offered to Seth.
“Cool. Later, everyone.”
“That worked pretty well,” Diana said when the two guys had escaped down through the hatch. “Nothing like the word tampon for clearing guys away. What are you two really shopping for?”
“Whatever,” Marquez said.
“Come with us, Diana,” Summer said again.
“I don’t think so,” Diana said.
“Doesn’t want to be seen with the riffraff,” Marquez muttered.
Summer took Diana’s hand. Something made Summer feel Diana wanted to go with them. “Come on. You have to come.”
“Well, if I have to,” Diana said testily. “If I have to, I guess I will.”
15
Purchases
SUMMER
(using the spending money her parents gave her)
BufPufs
Sea Breeze
Hawaiian Tropic SPF 8–10
Dove soap
Generic disposable razors (5 pack)
Bare Assets two-piece bathing suit
Pepperidge Farm raisin bread
Skippy Extra Chunky
Oreos
Milk 1% fat
2 Dannon yogurts (blueberry and raspberry)
Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia frozen yogurt
Jiffy Pop
Advil
Breeders CD
July issue of Seventeen
TOTAL: $90.14
MARQUEZ
(using the tip money from the lunch shift) Express Ltd. white denim shorts (on sale)
Snickers bar
TOTAL: $19.55
DIANA
(using her mother’s Visa Gold Card)
Lancôme Bienfait Total
Jean Paul Gaultier bra top and sarong skirt
Abe Hamilton linen gauze dress
Crest Fresh Mint Gel
July issue of Seventeen
TOTAL: $532.35
16
Summer’s Heinous Truths and Diana’s Little Pills
“Your calves are not chunky, for heaven’s sake,” Marquez said, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Your little Minnesota calves are perfect. You have the calves of Hillary Duff. And she’s probably wanting them back.”
Summer turned sideways to check the effect of her new bathing suit in Diana’s full-length mirror. For the twentieth time. “But it does make my butt look huge.”
“Your butt wouldn’t look huge if you stuffed a pair of beach balls back there,” Marquez said, thoroughly disgusted. She slapped her own rear end, barely contained within the very short shorts she’d bought. “Now, this is a big butt.”
Diana emerged from the bathroom, wearing the white gauze dress she’d bought for more than the cost of Summer’s entire wardrobe. She stood thoughtfully in front of the mirror and looked at herself critically.
“Don’t you even start,” Marquez warned.
“It looks okay,” Diana allowed.
“For what it cost it should look okay,” Marquez said.
Diana nodded. “We used to not have any money back when I was in junior high. Before Mallory started writing her trashy books, back when it was just my dad trying to support us. So I’ve done the life-on-a-budget thing.” She made a wry smile. “Lose a father, gain really good clothes.”
“Is that why your parents broke up?” Summer asked.
“Who knows,” Diana said. “That’s what most of the arguments were about. That and sex.”
Summer winced. “They talked about that in front of you?”
“No. They just talked in very loud voices so that even people who lived on the next block got to hear.”
“Gross,” Summer said, making a face.
Marquez flopped back on Diana’s bed. She rummaged in the package of Oreos Summer had bought and twisted one open. “Truth or dare?” she said suddenly.
“Forget it,” Diana said flatly. “If you two start that junior high stuff, I’ll kick you both out.”
“I can’t believe you haven’t kicked us out already, Diana,” Marquez said. “Is this like reverse PMS or something? Your hormones are making you be nice?”
“Don’t put your shoes on the bedspread, Maria.”
Marquez grinned, threw back the covers, and stuck her shoes under the sheet. “This better?”
“Are you trying to annoy me?”
“Come on, you guys,” Summer said, “don’t fight.” It was a phrase she’d had to use at least half a dozen times during their shopping excursion. And though Diana and Marquez had sniped at each other in one store and out another, Diana had seemed happier than she had since Summer had arrived in Florida. She’d been almost giddy at times.
But since they’d returned home, Diana’s mood seemed to have grown darker. It was as if she was making up for the fact that she’d had a good time.
“Okay, truth or dare,” Diana said suddenly, her eyes lighting up. “For you, Summer.”
Summer sat down on Diana’s desk chair and put her hands on her knees. “Truth, I guess. But throw me an Oreo first, Marquez.” She hoped Diana wasn’t going to ask her about Adam.
“Good. Here’s the question, and I want the truth.” Diana was fixing on her with way too much intensity. “Why did you come down here?”
Summer sighed with relief. “Because it sounded cool. I mean, the beach and everything.”
“Yeah, yeah, but why, really?” Diana pressed. She was standing over Summer, looking simultaneously imperious and very much like an angel in her gauzy dress.
“That’s it. When your mom called my mom I was having this terrible day. I was freezing—which is pretty much every day in the winter in Minnesota—and my friend Jennifer was going away to California for the summer, and this guy, this jerk named Sean Valletti who I thought I had a crush on, had started going out with this other girl just because she has massive…Never mind.”
“What did Mallory tell you?” Diana pressed. “Didn’t she tell you that I was being a pain or something?”
Marquez jumped in. “Why would she have to tell Summer that? Everyone who knows you knows you’re a pain, Diana.”
“Diana, what are you saying?” Summer asked. “You think this was some kind of a conspiracy or something?” Summer would have laughed, only Diana looked so serious.
“I know what Mallory was thinking. I’m just wondering if she told you.”
Summer shook her head solemnly. “No one told me anything. Why? Is something the matter?”
Diana looked nonplussed. She sh
ook her head distractedly. “Oh, my mom, I mean, Mallory, thinks I’m depressed or using drugs or something. She wanted you to come down and cheer me up, because she can’t be bothered to worry about me herself.”
“Are you depressed?” Summer asked.
“Of course not,” Diana said quickly. Her words gathered momentum. “Why would I be depressed? I’m not depressed. Besides, it’s none of your business, Summer. Believe it or not, we all had lives going on here even before you showed up.”
There was a shocked silence.
Diana took a deep breath. “Sorry. I have this headache.”
Summer shook her head and sent Marquez a sad look. She held out an Oreo for Diana. “Here, don’t be depressed.”
“I’m not depressed,” Diana snapped. “It’s not like I’m lying awake at night thinking about ways to kill myself.”
For several seconds her statement hung in the air between them, and no one spoke. They had all three heard something false, something ragged and raw in Diana’s voice.
“Okay, my turn,” Marquez said, breaking the silence. “Also for you, Summer. Truth or dare?”
“Truth. I don’t trust you with a dare.” The moment was past. Maybe it had never even occurred. How could she hope to read Diana’s thoughts? Summer asked herself. She barely knew her cousin.
“You’re a smart girl,” Marquez told Summer. “Never trust me with a dare. Here’s the question. Are you really as sweet as you seem or is there some dark, twisted inner core of hostility inside you?”
Summer laughed. “Definitely dark and twisted.”
“Oh, there is not,” Marquez said. “If you were really dark and twisted, like a certain person in this room who shall remain nameless but whose name rhymes with banana, you’d never admit it.”
Diana managed a wistful smile. “That’s right.”
“I’m not totally sweet,” Summer said defensively.
“Sure. Right.” Marquez grinned expectantly.
“I’m not.” Summer was beginning to get annoyed. Sweet was something she’d left behind in Bloomington.
“Okay, then prove it. What’s the sleaziest, most heinous thing you’ve ever done?”
Summer thought frantically. Marquez and Diana were both eyeing her doubtfully, waiting for her to admit that she couldn’t think of anything. “Do dreams count? Because I have great dreams. And I usually remember them.”
“No way,” Marquez said. “If dreams counted, I’d be arrested.”
“How about this?” Summer said with sudden defiance. “I kissed a total stranger once.” She saw Marquez dart a glance at Diana. Oh, no, Marquez was thinking of Adam! “Actually, it happened twice,” Summer said quickly, “and the first time was the most heinous.” She hoped Marquez would get the message.
She did. “Drunk or sober?” Marquez asked.
“Sober. So I had no excuse. I just let him kiss me. It was in a photo booth.”
Marquez shrugged. “That’s not heinous, Summer. It sounds like fun.”
“It was heinous enough,” Summer said. But clearly neither girl was impressed. “Okay, fine. Try this. I let a guy spend the night with me.”
Marquez and Diana both snapped to attention.
“I mean, we didn’t do it or anything. It wasn’t like that,” Summer said quickly.
Both Marquez and Diana relaxed.
“Actually, he kind of spent the night outside my room.” On the deck over her roof, to be exact, and nothing whatsoever had happened between them. He wasn’t even interested, because it would disturb his wa, whatever that meant. But there was no reason to tell that to these two.
“So, some guy slept outside your room in Minnesota? Hope it wasn’t winter,” Diana said.
“No, it was summer,” Summer said evasively. She wasn’t ready to tell anyone about Diver. Or Seth.
But she couldn’t help wondering that the only remotely heinous events she could think of happened during the few days she’d been in Florida.
Marquez sighed and shook her head in disappointment. “Well, that was pretty heinous, Summer. I’m horrified. Aren’t you horrified, Diana? Call 911.”
“It was the most terrible thing I’ve ever heard,” Diana said. “I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to sleep tonight.”
Summer stewed resentfully. Maybe if she could have told them all the details, that the first guy had a girlfriend already. Ha! Or that the second guy was totally awesomely cute. That he never wore any real clothes. That he appeared in her bedroom while she was asleep. That he talked to pelicans…no, that wouldn’t help.
“Fine, now it’s my turn,” Summer said. “For you, Marquez. Truth or dare?”
“Dare.”
“No, say truth, I don’t have a dare,” Summer said.
“Okay, truth.”
“I want to know two things. Why did you break up with J.T., and were you doing it with him?” Ha, that would show Marquez. Maybe she wasn’t heinous, but she could ask heinous questions.
“It?” Marquez repeated with a slow drawl. “What can you possibly mean by it?”
“Just answer the question.”
Marquez put her hand over her heart. “I am still a virgin, if that’s what you mean.” She batted her eyes. “Why did I break up with J.T.? Because he’s crazy, I told you.”
“Crazy is kind of vague,” Diana offered.
Marquez shrugged. “Okay. Okay. Fine.” She stood up, evidently enjoying being the center of attention. “See, he got cut pretty bad at work, right? This is like three weeks ago, right? Maybe a month. Some of the cooks were screwing around throwing knives like idiots, which is what cooks are. So he’s gushing out blood from his neck and they rush him to the hospital and they’re saying he may need a blood transfusion, right? He didn’t, but that doesn’t matter.”
“It doesn’t?” Summer asked.
Marquez waved her off impatiently. “No, it doesn’t matter. Anyway, his mom is there by this time. So they’re going to use her blood if it’s compatible. Only it isn’t. And his dad gets there, and they check him, and his blood isn’t right, either.”
“So?” Summer asked.
“So? So it turns out J.T.’s parents aren’t his parents. He’s adopted. He finds this out while he’s lying there bleeding.” Marquez shook her head sadly. She was no longer pretending to enjoy the story. Her voice grew softer, till it was hard to hear her. “I guess he couldn’t handle it. After that he started getting weirder. At first I thought it was because he got cut so bad. I mean, he said while he was unconscious he was having all these visions and things. Anyway, he got distant and wouldn’t talk about anything. Then he tells me out of the blue that he wants to see other girls.” Marquez flopped back onto the bed.
Summer was sorry she’d asked. Marquez was so down now, and she’d been so happy. “This is a stupid game,” she said.
Marquez made a noise deep in her throat and wiped at a tear. “Don’t worry, Summer. It isn’t your fault.”
Diana looked almost as depressed as Marquez. And the mood was hard to shake off.
“Great. Now we’re all feeling lousy,” Marquez said. “There’s only one way to get over this. Diana, we need some entertainment.”
“What?” Summer asked, ready for any help.
“Ah, yes, Maria,” Diana said. “I’ll get my photo album.”
“I don’t know, Diana,” Marquez said. “Summer may be too sweet.”
“I am not sweet,” Summer said. “Besides, what does looking at pictures have to do with being too sweet? Pictures are…Oh. That picture.”
After they had gone, Diana lay in her bed, holding the photo. Not the infamous one of poor Seth, but the picture she had taken of Adam. In it he was just waking up, looking confused, with his hair tousled, one eye closed. In the photo, taken aboard his father’s yacht, he looked vulnerable, something he never looked the rest of the time. He’d been water-skiing earlier in the day, and the sun and exercise had made him sleepy. Diana had gone below and spent an hour just watching him sl
eep, while up on deck the usual loud Merrick family party was under way.
She remembered the moment perfectly, every detail. How she had silently wound her camera and taken shot after shot of Adam sleeping, curled in a ball on the narrow bunk. She had kissed him ever so gently on the lips, and, as he had awakened, taken the last shot on the roll.
That had been two days before the last day with Adam.
She had developed the film a week after. She had taken scissors and cut each of the other pictures into tiny pieces and burned the pieces in a trash can, causing an awful, oily smoke.
She had saved this one picture. She hadn’t been able to destroy it.
Summer had seen the picture an hour before, and Diana had easily read the look in her eyes, the interest. Summer had looked guilty, realizing somehow that this picture meant something to Diana.
Was that why Diana had shown it to her? Was that why she had spent the afternoon shopping with Summer, and hanging out with Summer? So that she could find a way to let Summer know how she still felt about Adam?
Diana put the picture back and hugged the album to her chest.
She had tried to bury those feelings. She had wanted to forget the sick mixture of love and contempt, desire and betrayal. But Adam had gone after Summer and stirred the feelings up again.
Diana got up, set the album aside, and walked down the hall, down the curving staircase to her mother’s wing of the house. Through the ludicrous Gone with the Wind bedroom with its canopied bed and frills. To the vast bathroom, with the oversize marble tub raised on a platform and surrounded by lush plants. Mallory had had herself photographed there in the tub, just her head and shoulders visible through discreet clouds of bubble bath. Printed in Romantic Times magazine, the photo was supposedly a portrait of the romance author dreaming up her newest hero.
Diana opened the medicine cabinet. The bottle was still there, on the middle shelf. Twenty-three pills. She spilled them into her palm and counted them again. Yes, twenty-three. More than enough.
Beach Blondes Page 11
