A look I didn’t quite understand crossed Sorche’s face.
“Think Mean Girls. She’s practically second in command of that little clique.” Sor glanced at me. “Trust me, those are the last ones you want to meet.”
And suddenly, that table full of sharks made a lot more sense.
“Okay.”
“Good.” She smiled. “’Course, you kinda met JT already,” she said as he surfaced at the far end of the pool and seemed to glance up at us soon as his name was mentioned.
“Right.” Like I could forget him. I took a small sip of my drink and studied the people in the pool. A handful seemed familiar, faces that were in the magazines I’d bought at the airport.
“Let’s see who else…”
She began pointing to a group of people clustered around tables near the pool. “Pop princess wannabe; little sister of a major rock star…and now…” she turned, “you.”
“Which makes me what?” If everyone could be broken down in three word descriptions or less… what was my title? New kid? Misfit? Soon to be outcast?
Sorche laughed. “Probably the most likeable person here.” She nudged my shoulder as she pointed JT out again below. “And he, try as he might, is still JT.”
I scanned the pool area and caught a blonde staring up at us, or rather, glaring and more at me than anyone.
“Who is she?”
Sorche actually grimaced, which I knew couldn’t be a good sign. So far, she seemed to have a pretty good relationship with everyone we’d come across.
“We’ll talk about her later.”
“Considering the way she’s glaring at me, I think I’d rather know now.” It’s not like I hadn’t been glared at before; trust me, I have. But this glare held something behind it, and it totally unnerved me.
“That is Adriana.”
Adriana?
“The one whose party this is, Adriana?”
“Unfortunately so. But luckily, there’s only one of her. They haven’t been able to clone her, thank God. But her little minions try so hard to be like her.”
“Minions?”
“We met them downstairs, the shark table? Somehow, she wasn’t there. But that look she’s sporting, she probably wasn’t thrilled about how you met JT. They used to be a thing,” she said, turning away from the pool. “Don’t worry, used to be is a long time ago, over a year. He’s over it…I thought she was the way she was working her way through guys for a while, too. But she might still think he’s her property.”
Sorche pointed out a few more people, before she pushed herself back from the railing. “You must be hungry. I’m famished. I’ve barely had anything to eat all day.”
“I could eat,” I admitted, thinking of the food in the kitchen, glad when my stomach didn’t grumble in response. My nerves had abated a little bit so I felt more comfortable to try some food. That was the bad part of my lovely anxiety I had to deal with sometimes—anxiousness caused nausea or worse, feeling like I was about to pass out.
“Why don’t you stay up here? I’ll fix us some plates. You aren’t allergic to anything?”
“Nothing I know of.”
“Great. Be back in a few.”
Sorche left to raid the kitchen and get us something to eat, and I was stretched out on the lounger, listening to the music blaring from unseen speakers somewhere overhead. About to take the last sip of my drink, I suddenly realized who the figure heading straight towards me was.
The streaker.
Except now, thankfully, he was clothed—well, was semi-clothed—in a pair of dark red surfer shorts, with a faded shirt draped over his shoulder.
A teensy rush of panic washed over me. Sorche had left for who knew how long, and I was here all on my own about to be—
“Hi there.”
His voice interrupted my thoughts, and I found myself staring up at him.
I took a not so very discreet slurp of my soda. “Hi.”
He sat on Sorche’s unoccupied lounger and used the edge of his shirt to dry his face, his damp, ink-black hair falling forward and covering his electric blue eyes.
“Sor told me I need to apologize about before,” he said once he was done and his bright blue eyes met mine.
“What?” Okay, so maybe I should have thought that instead of saying it. But I’m not sure what I was more shocked by—Sorche making him apologize to me, or him actually finding me and doing it.
“She’s worried I may have unnerved you a little and made you uncomfortable.” He let out a deep breath as he studied me. “So, I’m sorry. I’m not used to having new faces around. Our little group is pretty tight.”
Great.
I mentally thanked Dad for picking out such an exclusive group to get me into. That might just explain the dirty look I had received from that little entourage.
“It’s okay.”
He tilted his head slightly.
“Sorche said it’s not.” He leaned over and grabbed my soda can before giving it an experimental shake, like he was trying to see if any remained. “By the way, I’m JT. I don’t think we’ve officially met.”
“Chey.”
But he already knew that, obviously. I mean, he’d found me and all. No doubt Sorche had filled him in. I found myself wondering what she’d said.
“So we’re cool?”
“Yeah, we’re cool.”
“Great.” He smiled that mischievous grin he’d had in the pool. “You wanna take a swim?”
I laughed. “Not really.”
I didn’t have a suit, which I figured wasn’t a point to bring up, given what he’d been swimming in—or without—less than an hour ago.
He laughed, a deep sort of sound that suddenly made me feel happy just hearing it.
“Damn.” He played with the soda can for a minute. “Well, I’ll let Sor fill you in on things. See you around, Chey.”
And with that, he took off, leaving me staring after him in awe. Like, what was all that about?
By the time Sor came back with a plate of food and a fresh round of drinks, JT had reached halfway down the steps and headed back to the pool. She didn’t look surprised by the fact I’d had company. She simply handed me the plate with the mini rolled sandwiches and dropped beside me.
“That’s who I meant to warn you about earlier,” she said as she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket.
“JT?”
“The one and only. Thank God for that.” She laughed. “He can be a little hyped up at times. Now, I need your number.” She held her phone out to me.
I set down the sandwich I’d just grabbed and keyed my cell number in for her before I opened my purse and handed her my cell for her to do the same.
“You got any big plans this summer?” she asked as she took a sandwich and ripped off a piece of pita roll.
“Not really.” Dad hadn’t exactly mentioned anything yet.
“Well, I’m just the one to fix that.” She gave me a wicked smile before popping a bite-size piece of roast beef into her mouth. “I guarantee this will be your most memorable summer yet.”
***
Having Trish pass me on my way up the driveway had been a surprise. I hadn’t left the party ’til well after one with Sorche, and by the time I’d gotten home, it struck closer to two. I wished she’d stopped to chat as she drove by, instead of giving me a simple wave. It definitely made me wonder if something more were going on between her and Dad as I parked in the garage. Otherwise, who stayed that late?
I headed upstairs to my room and changed before going to find Dad. I threw my sleep tank over my head, the grey one with Princess scrawled in glittery gold writing and the matching satin tiara-covered lounge pants before I slid my feet into the Tweety Bird slippers I’d gotten last Christmas and headed outside where Dad chain-smoked by the pool. I thought he’d given up that gross habit a couple years ago.
Guess I was wrong.
I waved the smoke away and curled up on one of the nearby chairs, as close as I could be without
the stink billowing in my face.
“Tweety,” Dad said with a smile.
I nodded, playing with the bottled water I’d grabbed on the way outside.
“Are you dating Trish?” I blurted out. That was the only logical conclusion I could come up with for her leaving this late—or early, whichever way you wanted to look at it.
Okay, so totally less than tactful, but still…
I looked at him expectantly.
He tapped out his cigarette on the cement beside his chair. “What gives you that idea?”
“An inkling?” I shrugged, leaning forward to pull a piece of fuzz off my slipper.
Besides, Milo seemed to be hanging around, and Dad wasn’t exactly that into kids. Me excluded, of course. He’d told me that several times, and I knew it was true, because he never, ever dated anyone who had a child. I figured I was all he could handle; that, or he just didn’t want me to get jealous if he was playing Daddy to someone else.
“She’s my assistant, Chey.” He put his lighter and pack of cigarettes on the ground. “A friend. Nothing more.”
“Then what’s the deal with Milo?” I knew I sounded a touch jealous, but when you spent as little time with your father as I do, you tend to get a little territorial. And in the past, I may have—accidentally, of course—spilled red wine on his Hollywood girlfriend’s brand-new, white Armani gown. But in my defense, she’d called me a brat. And I’d been twelve at the time, still fresh off my parents’ divorce and well, pre-hormonal, so you can see, I was totally justified.
Now, she’s happily married to some stunt guy, so all’s well that ends well, right?
Besides, Mom has told me time and time again that my dad is a player. And hey, every player needs a ref, don’t they?
Good thing I’d brought my black-and-white striped T-shirt with me this summer.
Dad sighed and looked straight at me. “Milo can use the extra cash, and Trish could use some time off. Works out perfectly.”
I had a feeling we’d see about that.
“Tell me about the party,” he said, changing the subject easily.
“Not much to say.” Or that I wanted to share right now, anyways. Telling him the most memorable moment by far amounted to my collision with a naked teenage guy didn’t quite seem the way to go.
“But you had a good time?”
I twisted off the cap on my water, thinking back. “Actually, yeah, I did.”
If it hadn’t been for Sor, I probably wouldn’t have. But I’d have to see if Sorche was just being nice to the newbie or if she actually wanted to hang out this summer. I hoped she wanted to be friends, because thinking back to some of the looks sent my way, it proved enough to make me consider staying home and poolside for the duration of my stay.
5
“You’ve had three calls already this morning.”
Trish greeted me as I padded across the tiled kitchen floor in my slippers, the Tweety heads bobbing with every step. I glanced tiredly at the clock on the microwave. Twenty minutes to noon. Well, it was summer, after all. I was allowed some sort of beauty sleep, right?
“Who?” I tried unsuccessfully not to yawn. Who knew having a bit of a life could be so draining?
“Sorche, I think. You left your cell phone down here last night. I just saw her name flash by on the screen.”
I tried to pour some coffee, but Trish stole the pot away from me, pointing instead towards the pitcher of orange juice on the table. I sighed. So much for me being wide awake any time soon.
Trish poured a small mug of coffee that I hoped was for me.
I picked up my cell phone from where she’d pointed on the counter. Someone had thoughtfully set it on the charging pad. I scanned the log. She was right—three missed calls from Sorche.
“Her dad’s some music producer, I think.” I yawned, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the bright light streaming into the kitchen. Hard to think back to our convo last night when it seemed like my brain still snoozed upstairs. “She was sort of my unofficial tour guide last night.”
Trish held the mug out to me. I set my phone back on the charger and grabbed the coffee gratefully.
I took a long sip, wanting to stretch it out. I could feel the haze around me starting to fade as the caffeine kicked in. I took a second sip before putting it down. “Where’s Dad?”
“Out on a run with his trainer.”
I smiled knowingly at Trish. “So he left you behind on Chey duty?”
I can’t believe he thought I needed someone to be here when I woke up.
She laughed. “I’m hardly babysitting, Chey. I sent out a few faxes. Grabbed your phone by accident. You left it outside on the table, and I thought your father had gotten a new one. And I made breakfast, because I figured you’d be hungry when you finally got up.”
“I’m starving,” I admitted.
“Good. The pancakes should be done soon.”
Dad came in half an hour later, freshly showered and smelling like a mix of soap and aftershave. He kissed my forehead as he slipped into one of the chairs at the table.
“So, tell me all about the party. You were pretty tight-lipped last night.”
“I was not.”
He arched an eyebrow.
“I was tired.”
“You’re wide awake now.” He grabbed a slice of toast from the plate on the table. “How’d it go?”
“Not bad. I think I made a new friend.” Wow, that sounded like I was back in kindergarten.
“Does she have a name? Or is it a he?”
Ha! “Her name is Sorche. She said you know her dad.”
He nodded. “David. She’ll be good for you.”
Glad she had the fatherly seal of approval. “Why do you say that?”
“Sor’s been around the scene long enough to help you navigate things.”
Great, she was the friend version of GPS.
The cell phone on the counter beeped, interrupting our conversation, and Trish held it out to me. I grabbed it from her and headed outside. “Hello?”
“Finally, I got you. I kept getting your voicemail all morning.”
“I just got up.”
“Typical teen, sleeping in after a late night of partying.” Sorche’s laugher filled my ear. “Anyway, I was wondering if you were up for doing something today.”
“Today…” I repeated slowly.
“You said your summer was free…I’ve got the day off so I thought we could do something. Do I hear a yes?” she asked before I had a chance to really think.
I glanced back through the patio doors. I doubt I had any plans here.
“Sure,” I said, making a decision to take charge of my own life for once. “Where do you want to meet?”
“Why don’t I swing by and grab you? Say in about an hour? I’ve got a short yoga session in ten minutes so maybe we’ll hit a movie or something?”
“Great, see you then. Do you need my address?”
“Nah, I’ll grab it off my dad’s computer. See you soon.”
I clicked the phone off and headed back into the house. “Guess I’m going out this afternoon.”
“Sorche?” Trish asked from her spot at the kitchen table.
It looked like I might have interrupted their convo with my quick return.
“Yeah, we’re going to a movie.”
“Sounds good.” Dad took a sip of coffee. “You need to get out of the house more.”
I grabbed the rest of my coffee, deciding to ignore his comment. I’d gone out last night, and I was going out this afternoon; what more did he expect? “I think I’ll go upstairs and start getting ready.”
I sat on the front steps an hour and a half later, looking at my silent cell phone and beginning to think I’d been punk’d. Like ha ha, the popular kids want to hang with you, then don’t show. I was thirty seconds away from deciding to give up on Sorche and go spend my afternoon by the pool when I saw a vehicle stop at the gates.
I rose to my feet wearily, thinking it might
be Milo. But then, he’d just let himself in if it was him. I hit the remote on my keys, and the gates swung open in response, letting the candy apple red SUV zoom in. I immediately recognized it from the parking lot last night.
Sor honked the horn, and I hurried down the steps, my purse straps dangling from my fingers.
Cruel Summer Page 7
