by Emily Lowry
Working at Beachbreak was a different pressure. There were no screaming fans. No band that struck up the school fight song whenever we served a burger. It was more of a constant, unceasing pressure. And not everyone could take it.
I stood in the kitchen and examined a menu for what must have been the millionth time. During the height of summer, Luis and Dad liked to change the menu around. This year, they wanted to add my Midnight Meal to the mix. It would be the first time a meal I created would end up on the menu. It needed to be perfect.
I carefully measured out a few more spices for the fries, adjusting the ratio of chili powder and brown sugar just as Dad had recommended. I quickly stirred them together, then spooned the spices over a fresh batch of fries. They were still hot, so the spice stuck to them easily.
“Lemme.” Jordyn burst between me and the fries, grabbed two, and popped them into her mouth before I could warn her. She chewed with her mouth open, fanning the invisible flames now dancing on her tongue. “Hot! Hot!”
I laughed. “That’s what you get for trying something before the cook tells you you’re allowed.”
“Worth it,” she mumbled. She snatched a cup, filled it with Sprite, and downed it. Steam hissed when the cool liquid hit her tongue. “That’s better,” she said.
“So? What do you think?”
Jordyn checked to make sure no one was watching, then swung her arms around my neck and gave me a quick kiss.
I smirked. “That good, huh?”
Before she could fire back a sarcastic retort, I pulled her towards me again, pressing my lips against hers and kissing her one more time.
When we finally broke apart, my hands lingered on her hips as I caught my breath.
“You have a gift,” Jordyn said, smiling up at me.
I smirked again.
She hit me. “I didn’t mean that. Arrogant much?”
I laughed. “Whatever you say, Jones.”
I reluctantly slipped out of her grasp. Luis was outside taking a break and would come back in any minute, and while Sofia was busy with a customer, you never knew when she would sneak into the kitchen for something. Jordyn and I were determined to keep our relationship — or whatever this was — a secret. The less people knew about it, the less it could go wrong.
So far, we’d been lucky. Quiet kisses in the kitchen, subtle squeezes in the back office, lingering hugs — no one had caught on. And no one had captured our relationship for Click. Whoever was trying to uncover Jordyn’s secrets had either decided to lay low, or they’d gotten bored. Either reason worked for me. As long as our relationship remained in a cloud of secrecy, we would be okay. But as soon as that cloud blew away—
No need to think about that. Just live in the moment.
A boy’s voice carried through to the kitchen. “I’m with Under Cove Films.”
My heart shot into my chest. Under Cove Films? That was the name of Christopher Lyons’ production company, the one that was planning to shoot in the Denver area. They were already here?
As casually as I could, I sauntered over to the milkshake machine, pretending to examine it so I could eavesdrop. A boy, roughly the same age as Sofia, stood at the counter. They were chatting. She was leaning forward so hard I thought she would fall over the counter, and the smile on her face was way too big to be fake.
“And you’re with catering?” Sofia said. She was trying to play things cool, as if she didn’t care about movies at all. Almost as if she had never even seen a movie before. But her body language gave her away. She was fidgeting nervously under the counter as she talked, her hands shaking slightly.
“Sort of,” the boy said. He had a lilting British accent. “I’m with the movie. My dad has a meeting today, so he sent me to check out Main Street for lunch. They’re renting an office a few blocks away. I’m supposed to bring back some food.”
Sofia raised her eyebrows. “Is your dad... sorry, never mind. What can I get you?”
Is the boy’s dad who?
I briefly glanced over my shoulder to get a better look at the boy. He was tall, blond-haired and blue eyed, and definitely bore more than a passing resemblance to Christopher Lyons himself.
No.
It couldn’t be, could it?
Christopher Lyons’ son? Here, at Beachbreak?
“Dylan?”
“What?”
Sofia held out an order.
“Right.” I snatched the order out of her hand, taking it back to the kitchen. Luis was back from his break. I handed him the order slip. “This one’s important — it’s going to the cast and crew for that new movie that might shoot in Evermore. If we do well here— “
“You don’t have to tell me,” Luis said.
We immediately got to work. Burgers and topping sizzled as Luis worked the grill. I made a fresh batch of fries and mixed a fresh blend of different spices. Jordyn was at the milkshake machine. She was going above and beyond, too. She topped each milkshake with a perfect dollop of whipped cream, found a jar of maraschino cherries, and put one on top. They looked incredible — straight out of the ‘50s.
But, while we were all working to make the best meal possible, Sofia was smiling and laughing with the boy on the other side of the counter. She was quick-witted, and if the amount of times she laughed was any sign, so was he.
“Hmm,” I said, eyeing the pair. I didn’t like the way she was talking to him. Every protective urge I’d ever had was rising through my body, telling me to put a stop to whatever was going on between them. But I couldn’t. Intellectually, I knew that neither of them was doing anything wrong. They were just kids.
Kids that were flirting.
And flirting lead to dates.
And dates lead to kissing.
And I was definitely not ready to see my little sister go on a date. She was only 15! I mean, sure, I had gone on dates when I was 15. But it was different.
I caught Jordyn’s eye as she delivered the shakes on a cardboard tray. She was watching me, barely containing her laughter. She told the oh-so-witty boy that she’d check on the food and be right back.
“What?” I practically growled at her when she came into the kitchen.
She grinned maniacally. “You. Look. So. Mad. You better not let him see you like this. Honestly, Ramirez. You look like he’s a linebacker and you want to crush him.”
“So what?”
“I think someone’s feeling a bit overprotective.”
“I am not,” I lied. I tried to look past Jordyn to see what was going on between Sofia and her new best friend. Conveniently, oh so conveniently, Jordyn positioned her body to block my view. I couldn’t say for sure, but I thought I saw the boy hand Sofia his cell phone.
Wait.
WAS SHE GIVING HIM HER NUMBER?
“Is the food done?” I snapped at Luis.
He gave me a weird look. “You hungry or something? You’re acting a little hangry.”
“We need the service to be quick so we can impress this...”
Jordyn and Luis both stared at me and waited for me to finish my sentence. Jordyn, in particular, looked deeply, deeply amused. Luis didn’t see what the big deal was. But he couldn’t see what was going on at the counter.
“This what?” Jordyn asked innocently.
I gritted my teeth. “This very important client.”
“Uh huh. Sure.”
“Maybe you could take over,” I suggested. “Send Sofia back here.”
Jordyn was practically shaking with silent laughter. “Oh, I don’t think that’s necessary. I think she’s definitely got it all under control.”
“It’s not funny.”
“You’re right. It’s hilarious.” Her eyes glittered. “She’s only a year younger than you. You dated girls when you were her age. So let her flirt with the cute boy.”
“He’s not cute.”
“Oh, okay,” Jordyn said. “I suppose Dylan Ramirez is the expert on what makes a cute guy.”
“He’s awkward looking
.”
“Yes,” Jordyn agreed. “It’s super awkward to be six feet tall, have the jawline of a movie star, eyes bright as diamonds, and abs that I suspect are chiseled out of marble. How terribly awkward. You should probably save your sister before she’s forced to spend any more time with that awkward statue of a man.”
A brief bit of jealousy flared in my stomach. Jordyn found this random guy cute, too?
“Looks like someone got under your skin,” she said, her voice sing-songy.
“It’s not that. It’s just that no one is supposed to date my sister.” Still feeling a smidge overprotective, I boxed up the awkward boy’s food and brought it out of the kitchen. I placed it on the counter.
“Thanks,” the boy said. His smile was friendly.
Mine was forced. “No problem. New to the area?”
“Sort of.”
“Cool,” I said. I grabbed a menu and stashed it in the bag. “In case you want to order something later. We’re open all day.”
“Thanks,” the boy said. He turned to Sofia. “And thank you. You’ve been wonderful.”
Sofia went pink as an embarrassed cartoon character. “Bye.”
I watched the boy leave.
Ugh.
Being a brother could be so complicated.
36
Jordyn
I stormed across my bedroom, magically resisting the urge to throw everything I owned on the floor. Anger simmered through my body as I replayed Dylan’s comment: “No one is supposed to date my sister.”
Why?
Because they’re not allowed. Because he was her big brother and he was supposed to protect her.
I understood the protectiveness. Really. I did. It was nice that he cared about Sofia. But to say that no one was allowed to date his little sister, and to cast her as completely off-limits? What did that say about what Dylan thought about me? He was Chase’s best friend. Was that all I was to him? Some piece of forbidden fruit? Was I, yet again, going to get reduced to being nothing more than the sister of Chase Jones?
ARGH. I wanted to hit something. Hard. Over and over I had begged my parents for a punching bag. Pillows had way too much give — I wanted something that you could feel when you punched it.
This is a healthy way to express yourself, Jordyn. Violence. Just like mom.
The thought leaped into my head, unprompted and unwanted. And it just made me angrier. So what if I was a little like mom? Did that really matter right now?
Before I could get even angrier, my phone vibrated on my desk. I picked it up, saw there was a notification from Click, and briefly contemplated throwing it through the window. Heck, I was so angry I could probably throw it through the wall. I imagined a row of little cell phone shaped holes going through the walls all the way into the yard. The thought made me smile, and fortunately, it also calmed me down.
At least slightly.
I unlocked my phone and opened Click, bracing myself for the worst.
As usual, Click did not disappoint.
The blast showed who else: Dylan and me. He had his arm over my shoulder, a big smile on his face. I was frowning and holding my stuffed animal, Samuel Danielson, protectively. This photo was followed by another, one of us standing outside Beachbreak before one of our shifts. Dylan was leaning into me — not quite touching, and I was on my tiptoes, looking directly into his eyes. The final shot? Us inside Beachbreak, laughing, my hand resting on his arm.
This last image was followed with a caption:
When the cat’s away, the mice will play. Wonder what Chase Jones thinks about his twin sister being spotted just about everywhere with his best friend?
I swore. Bit my lip.
I’ll admit — it didn’t look good. Three pictures with me and Dylan, spread across the summer, all showing us close together. But none of them showed us kissing. Sure, we were touching, but no more than close friends would touch. If anyone — i.e. Chase — asked about our relationship, we could lie. Tell him that Click was just trying to stir up drama. After the app had tried to sabotage him last fall when he was dating Abby, he’d have to believe us.
Right?
My phone vibrated again. This time it was a text message from Dylan.
Dylan: You see Click?
I debated not texting him back. After his ‘no one dates my sister’ comment, I wanted to give him the cold shoulder and really let him stew. But, if we got the blast, Chase would get it too. And when he started asking questions, Ramirez and I needed to have our stories straight. My brother might be a jock, but he wasn’t stupid. And he wouldn’t let me get away with playing dumb.
Despite that, I was definitely not in a hurry to jump at Ramirez’s beck and call. If he wanted to talk, he had to work for it.
Jordyn: You come here. I’m free.
Dylan: On my way.
Good.
Maybe we’d have time to have ourselves a little chat about the merits of dating someone’s sister.
37
Dylan
The heat of the July sun did nothing to dispel the frigid breeze that surrounded me as soon as I arrived at Jordyn’s. While she could always be moody and had a habit of glaring, the way she was today made it feel like there was a thick wall of ice between us. I didn’t know why it had formed, but I would do my best to pick my way through it. The first step? A warm and welcoming hug.
I opened my arms, ready to pull her into me—
But she spun on her heel, rebuffing me completely. “There’s no one in the backyard.”
I followed her through the house. Both of her parents must have been at work. That was good — I wasn’t a very good liar, and knowing them, they were no doubt trying to keep their divorce a secret. Even Jordyn wasn’t supposed to know.
We sat on the patio beneath an oversized striped umbrella. Jordyn pulled a free chair across the deck, the metal legs scraping against the wood. She put her feet up. She wore a pair of large sunglasses which made it difficult for me to see her eyes. It was like she was wearing a mask.
What was wrong?
What had I done?
I cleared my throat, feeling very uncomfortable. “So. Click.”
“Click,” she said. “We need to get ahead of this. Figure out what our story is and get it straight. Chase hasn’t called yet, but he’s going to soon.”
“I don’t want to lie to him,” I said.
“Like you could even if you wanted to,” Jordyn replied. Her expression was still flat, still unreadable. “But, let’s say you were going to tell the truth. What would you say?”
Talk about putting me on the spot. My cheeks burned. Jordyn knew how I felt, didn’t she? The last thing I wanted to do was sit in the backyard and have the least romantic confession of feelings of all-time. “You know how I feel.”
“I do?”
“Don’t you?”
Her mouth twitched. “I’m Chase’s sister. Which means you’re not supposed to date me. Because no one is supposed to date someone’s sister. Disregarding how that would make all of human society completely collapse.”
What?
Where was this—
Oh.
OH.
That explained the wall of ice between us. When she heard me complaining about the awkward boy’s interest in Sofia, she must have assumed—
“It’s not like that,” I said.
“But it is,” she snapped. “At least a little.”
“I don’t like you because you’re Chase’s sister. I like you because... because you’re Jordyn.”
Her expression softened almost imperceptibly. She sighed. “Maybe — maybe — I’m being too hard on you.”
“Thank you.”
“But that doesn’t change the facts.”
My stomach sank. She was right. No matter how I felt, it didn’t change the fact that she was still, ultimately, Chase’s sister. And Chase probably wouldn’t be super thrilled that, as soon as he left town, we became more than friends. Much more. “What do you want to do?”
I asked.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I know I don’t want this to end.”
“So we keep going,” I said. There was a subtle edge of desperation in my voice. I knew our relationship — whatever it was — was living on borrowed time. But borrowed time was still time. We could still be together. “We keep going, at least until Chase gets back. And then... I don’t know what we do then. But we don’t need to figure it all out right now.”
Jordyn bit her lip. She looked like she was puzzling over what I had said, weighing all the options. Finally, she nodded. “We keep going. Leave it all to the future, I guess. But I still have a problem. Someone is trying to put me on Click. We need to figure out who.”
“The last blast showed us in three places,” I said. “We need to figure out who would have been at all three places — and who would have wanted to put you on blast.”
“That’s the problem,” Jordyn said. “Anyone could’ve taken the photos of us at Beachbreak. Especially given that you’re Mr. Popularity. And the carnival? Same thing. Could’ve been anyone.”
“Great,” I murmured. “So we’ve narrowed down our suspect list to literally anyone in Evermore. Can you think of anyone who would have a reason to throw you to the wolves? Maybe Pete?”
“QB2? I doubt he’d have it in him to do anything malicious. He practically worshiped me in the most annoying way possible. Revenge isn’t his style.” Jordyn took off her sunglasses. Polished them on her t-shirt. “What about Lauren?”
Lauren? That was a possibility. We hadn’t exactly ended our relationship in a good place — and she definitely blamed Jordyn for that. “It’s not impossible,” I said. “What about Madison? One of the other cheerleaders?”
Jordyn shook her head. “I’m her ex-boyfriend’s sister — far too low on the totem pole for Madison to bother with. Same with the other cheerleaders. And they probably wouldn’t take a shot at me because they’d be afraid of making Chase angry.”
