Waking Up to Boys

by Hailey Abbott

  “Oh, just the young man I was looking for!” Deirdre squealed, grasping Sebastian by the arm. His mouth widened in surprise, then closed quickly into a gracious smile. “Sebastian, you simply must meet my dear friend Nadine. Nadine, Sebastian here is a tennis instructor…from Brazil. Sebastian, darling, I wanted to talk to you about perhaps teaching a private clinic just for Nadine and myself….”

  Chelsea tuned out as Deirdre went on. Her throat was so dry, it hurt. She gently touched Sebastian on the shoulder.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” she said, trying for her best apologetic smile. “I’ll just be over at the drinks table if you need me, okay?”

  Sebastian kissed her cheek haphazardly, clearly engrossed in whatever Deirdre & Co. were plotting, and Chelsea picked her way through the sea of dancers to the relatively safe haven of the drinks table. She gratefully ladled herself a goblet full of pale pink punch garnished with clouds of creamy sherbet and turned away from the table, intending to find a quiet corner. Instead, she found herself face-to-face with Todd.

  “What are you, following me?” She hoped her words were strong enough to cover up her trembling.

  “Hardly,” Todd snorted. “What’s your deal?”

  “What’s my deal?” Chelsea’s voice rose with hysteria and several heads in their immediate vicinity swiveled to stare. “Can we talk outside?” she hissed.

  Without speaking, Todd grabbed her arm and practically dragged her out onto the balcony. Twinkling lights festooned the grand columns and stars twinkled in the clear sky overhead, but Chelsea and Todd were too focused on their argument to notice.

  “So?” Chelsea asked casually, breaking free. “What do you want?”

  “Excuse me?” Todd asked, getting in her face. “It’s more like what do you want!”

  It was the same question Sebastian had asked her on the lodge’s porch nearly a month ago. But instead of making her sad and confused, hearing it from Todd just made her mad. “What do I want? I want to know why you keep looking at me like that. Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

  “I’m not looking at you,” he answered, turning his head to stare angrily over the edge of the balcony.

  “So, what, I’m just making it up?” Chelsea could hear herself getting loud, but she couldn’t help it. He was doing this on purpose to drive her crazy. And it was working. Instinctively, she reached up and turned his face so that he was looking at her. “You’ve been giving me the evil eye all night. I just…I just want to know what the hell you want from me.”

  They stared at each other for a long moment in silence. Todd’s eyes were dark, and he looked like he was biting the insides of his mouth to keep from saying something.

  “So?” Chelsea prodded. “What do you want from me?”

  As she watched Todd’s face constrict with rage, she shivered. It was freezing out. And they were locked in a death glare. Todd’s eyes seemed to be growing larger and larger, and she realized suddenly that it was because his face was moving closer to hers. She couldn’t understand why…until suddenly his lips were on hers.

  For a long moment, Chelsea was too surprised to move. And then she felt her mouth melting into Todd’s, her arms wrapping around his neck as if they had always belonged there, her hands stroking his hair the way they had longed to do all summer. There were fireworks, singing birds, bolts of lightning: the works. It was simply the most amazing moment she had ever experienced in her life, and she never wanted it to end.

  But then it did. The universe, which had shrunk to include only her and Todd during their kiss, expanded rapidly, and she blinked, looking around. That’s when she saw Sebastian standing at the edge of the doorway, his face paler than she’d ever seen it. Had he seen them? And did it matter?

  She turned back to Todd. “I…,” she began. But what could she possibly say? That she’d been waiting her whole life for this moment, but the timing wasn’t right? “I have to go,” she whispered.

  Todd’s face clouded over again before he turned around and sauntered off as though nothing had happened.

  Chelsea ran over to Sebastian.

  “What was that all about?” Sebastian’s voice was colder than the lake in January.

  “You saw.” Chelsea felt dizzy. The world dipped for a moment, then righted itself again.

  “Oh yeah,” Sebastian sneered. “I saw. You two-timing…” He muttered something in Portuguese.

  “I’m so sorry, Sebastian,” Chelsea gulped. “I didn’t even realize I still liked Todd until just now. That was the first time we ever kissed, I swear.”

  “I know.” Sebastian looked past her into the darkness, refusing to meet her gaze. His voice was tinged with resignation and regret. “I could tell from watching you. And I could see that you would never feel the way about me that you do about him.”

  A piece of Chelsea’s heart broke off. She was filled with regret as she looked at Sebastian. He was so cute and had been so sweet to her…and yet, it hadn’t been enough. “It’s not that I don’t like you, Sebastian,” she began. “I do. I just…I guess I didn’t really know what I wanted.”

  It was hard for her even to say the words out loud. Up until this summer, she had always known exactly what she wanted and thought that she was basically a good person. Now she felt horrible: like a user, someone who only took what she wanted and didn’t care about anyone else.

  “Save it.” Anger had replaced the regret in his voice. “You really played me, Chelsea. I guess this is what I get for actually caring.” He brushed past her and stalked off into the darkness, leaving her alone and shivering on the cold, dark porch.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  The buzzing in Chelsea’s ears grew to a dull roar as Sebastian hurried away from her and into the night. She took a deep breath and the night air rushed into her lungs in a fresh, cool burst of jasmine and pine, making her shiver. She rubbed her arms to warm up, remembering that she had given her wrap to the butler, and looked around at the other people on the veranda, couples and small groups talking softly together in the shadows, holding wineglasses that glinted like jewels in the twinkling blue lights.

  The lobby provided a welcome gust of warmth and bustle: the groups larger, the laughter sharper, the wineglasses fuller. Chelsea suddenly felt overwhelmed and sank into one of the plush velvet wing chairs by the fireplace, partially obscured by a large fern. She felt strange and guilty and worried about Sebastian. How could she have just let him go that easily when he had been so kind and attentive to her all summer? She felt too guilty over using him to figure out what she wanted.

  But, to Chelsea’s surprise, she was also relieved. She didn’t have to spend any more time wondering why she couldn’t appreciate the guy she was with and why she was longing for the one she didn’t have. As dark and painful as her confrontation with Sebastian had been, she knew she had done the right thing.

  A gentle peal of laughter pierced her reverie. “Todd, that’s so funny!” said an unfamiliar voice through the giggles.

  “Thanks.” The response was definitely Todd’s voice. Chelsea’s body stiffened and her throat closed up, making it impossible for her to breathe. Trying to move as little as possible, she peeked around the edge of the potted fern and saw Todd sauntering toward the stairs, his arm draped casually over the shoulder of a short, busty blonde in a very expensive-looking low-cut dress. Chelsea had never seen her before, but the girl’s radiant smile slashed at her heart.

  Nausea clawed at Chelsea’s stomach as Todd touched the girl’s arm.

  “I’m staying upstairs.” The girl flirtatiously dangled a hotel key in front of Todd’s face. “Want to…see my room?”

  “Uh…sure,” Todd replied. The room spun and all the color and noise ran together in one big, messy swirl, like paint being rinsed down a drain. Chelsea struggled to keep her body still so she wouldn’t give away her hiding place. The blonde started up the stairs, playfully tugging at Todd’s arm.

  Chelsea literally started to gag. She felt her stomach rising
in her throat and bolted out of her chair, stumbling through the too-bright, too-loud, too-stuffy lobby and out into the night air once again. Clutching her stomach, Chelsea bent double over the porch railing and heaved.

  Chelsea felt like a cold thin hand was reaching into her stomach and yanking out everything she’d eaten for the past week. When it was finally over she was still bent double, gasping for breath and swabbing miserably at her mouth with the back of her good hand as tears of humiliation stung her eyes. She was too embarrassed to look around and see if anyone had noticed, and she still felt too weak to move. All she wanted was to drink a big glass of water, take off her stupid slinky dress and painful heels, and crawl into bed and die.

  She thought maybe she would just stay right there on the dark corner of the veranda forever when she felt a small hand on her back.

  “Are you all right?” Sara’s soft, concerned voice asked.

  Chelsea turned slowly and saw her sister blanch slightly at the sight of her pallid skin and running eyes.

  “Chelsea, what’s wrong?” Sara caught sight of the mess in the bushes. “Did you have too much to drink?”

  Chelsea made a noise that sounded like a drain unclogging, and Sara immediately held out her arms, letting her dive into them and quietly cry against her shoulder. She didn’t say anything about Chelsea ruining her dress but just held her and stroked her back and made comforting little cooing noises as Chelsea heaved and snuffled.

  “Did you have too much of the champagne punch?” Sara asked when Chelsea was finally calm enough to pull away. “It can really sneak up on you if you’re not careful.”

  Chelsea shook her head. “I only drank from the non-alcoholic punch bowl. I was afraid if I got tipsy in these heels, I’d break my other arm.”

  Sara laughed lightly, but a moment later her nose wrinkled with worry. “Do you think you have food poisoning?” she asked. “The shrimp cocktail seemed cooked enough to me, but I don’t know, if you got a bad one—”

  “It’s not that,” Chelsea hiccupped. Suddenly, the image of Todd and the blond girl ascending the staircase flashed in front of her eyes, and her stomach cramped up again. She dived for the railing and heaved, but nothing came up.

  “Chels, I’m really worried,” Sara said. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” Chelsea mumbled, turning around. She sank slowly to the floor, hugging her knees without caring if her new dress got dirty.

  “People do not vomit into bushes over nothing,” Sara pointed out.

  It was true. What had just happened with her and Sebastian and Todd and the blond girl wasn’t nothing—it was enough to make her physically ill, and it was a whole big secret that she’d been bottling up inside herself all summer long. Chelsea was tired of dealing with it all on her own and wondering if she was crazy for feeling the way she did. She realized that she wanted to tell someone, someone who would understand. And Sara was sitting right there on the porch floor next to her, apparently not caring if she got her dress dirty, either.

  “It was over a boy,” Chelsea said quietly.

  Sara’s eyes widened and her hands flew to her mouth. “Oh no—did something happen between you and Sebastian?”

  Chelsea nodded grimly. “But it wasn’t just Sebastian,” she added. “I mean, we got in a fight and broke up and—”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” Sara said sympathetically. “I just can’t imagine it. He always seemed so into you.”

  “He didn’t dump me,” Chelsea corrected her. “I dumped him.”

  “But why?” Sara seemed genuinely confused.

  “Because I like someone else,” Chelsea began. It felt good just to say it—not because it was something she was proud of, but because it had all been inside her head for so long. Words tumbled out of her mouth as she launched into the whole story: how she had liked Todd ever since she was fourteen, their wakeboarding rivalry and all his hookups with tourist girls, and how even though she had thought hooking up with Sebastian would make her forget about Todd, it only made wanting him that much worse.

  Sara’s china blue eyes grew almost as round as grapefruits when Chelsea got to the part about seeing Todd with the bimbo in the hotel lobby, and she put a sympathetic hand on her knee.

  “No wonder you were puking in the bushes.” She rubbed her hand back and forth. “I would have done the same thing.”

  “So I’m not a total freak for being this crazy about someone I’m not even dating?”

  “No,” Sara assured her. “Love makes everyone emotional. It can make you excited, depressed, and exhausted—and that’s just when you’re in a relationship! And then finding out the person you want to be with has been with someone else: Well, it’s literally enough to make you sick.”

  Chelsea leaned her head back against the porch railing and looked up at the stars. The gentle night breeze was finally starting to cool the burning in her cheeks and forehead.

  “If it makes you feel any better,” Sara ventured, “I don’t know Todd well, but maybe all those girls he runs around with are just substitutes for who he really wants to be with.”

  “Who’s that?” Chelsea asked.

  “You,” Sara said. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you, Chels. It’s different from how he looks at any of those other girls. Maybe he’s just afraid to admit that he wants to be with someone who could beat him at his own game.”

  As much as Chelsea wanted to believe her, she just couldn’t. Didn’t Todd realize by now that if he wanted her, he could have her?

  “Thanks, Sara,” Chelsea said. “But I’m pretty sure it’s not true. If Todd liked me, we’d be together by now.”

  “You’d be surprised how backwards guys can be with their emotions,” Sara replied, smiling a little. “Sometimes you have to beat them over the head with what they want. Other times, you have to just sit back and wait for them to come to you. And the problem is, you can never tell the freakin’ difference.”

  Chelsea sighed and closed her eyes. It was all too much. The whole night—no, the whole summer—had been so up and down that it was no wonder she was feeling nauseated. Every move she made was the wrong one. All her instincts had been out of whack. She had thought Sara was some man-eater out to sabotage her whole family, and instead it turned out she was just nice. And normal. And…well, really nice.

  Chelsea took a deep breath. “I have something to tell you,” she said before she lost her nerve. “When you first got here, I really didn’t like you. But I was also really jealous because you seemed to be getting all the attention and all the guys, and those are always things I’ve secretly wanted, without even realizing that I wanted them. And I didn’t think I could talk to you, because I thought you didn’t like me—”

  “That’s not true!” Sara interjected, but Chelsea held up a hand to stop her. She wasn’t done yet.

  “I did some things I shouldn’t have,” Chelsea blurted out. “I went into your room and tried on your clothes and I borrowed a skirt and got a stain on it and I overheard part of this phone conversation you had with Simon once and then this one time I was really desperate for guy advice and I read your diary and…look, I know it’s wrong, but I just wanted to know and I didn’t have anyone to go to and…” She trailed off.

  Sara was staring at her, her mouth hanging open in shock. “You read my diary?”

  More tears welled up in the back of Chelsea’s throat. “I’m so sorry,” she whimpered as they spilled out over her cheeks. “I was just so confused.”

  “If you wanted guy advice, you could have just asked me,” Sara said. “That’s what sisters are supposed to be for.”

  “But I never thought of you as my sister,” Chelsea admitted. “Until now.”

  Sara sighed and held out her arms. “Come here.” She patted Chelsea’s head as her little sister cried into her shoulder. “I know what it’s like not to know who to turn to for advice, so I’ll forgive you this once. But don’t you ever read my diary again.”

  “I won’t,” Chelsea sniff
led.

  “Good.” Sara stood up and held out her hand to help Chelsea to her feet. “You must be exhausted. I’ll take you home.”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  The aggressively blue skies and cheery yellow sun the next day were a sharp contrast to Chelsea’s pensive gray mood. Even though Sara had gotten her home and into bed before midnight, she had spent most of the night tossing, turning, and sweating through her sheets. She had turned the evening’s events over and over in her mind, feeling angry about Todd and worried about Sebastian, pleased but weirded out by her new friendship with Sara, and alternately proud of and disgusted with herself.

  Get over yourself, the sun seemed to say as she picked her way down the gravel path leading to the tennis courts. At the same time, a boat soaring through the dazzling lake seemed to nudge her on, telling her she was doing the right thing.

  As she got closer to the tennis courts, she could see two figures volleying the ball back and forth. One was taller and more awkward than the other, who was dark and graceful, moving with the fluidity of a dancer. His movements flowed from his hips, and his racket seemed like an extension of his arm as he hit the ball in a smooth arc over the net.

  The other player, although he lacked Sebastian’s grace, was holding his own on his side of the court. He raced back and forth to return Sebastian’s serves, hitting the ball with short, almost angry bursts of power. Chelsea watched Sebastian’s movements slow and grow more laconic as his partner continued to run and dive for balls. Finally, in a quick swoop of triumph, Sebastian’s opponent landed the ball before Sebastian had a chance to dive for it, and he raised his arms in victory.

  “Great game, Francis,” Sebastian said as Chelsea approached the court. “You’ve improved a lot this summer. I’m proud of you.”

  “Yeah, well…it’s mostly thanks to you,” Francis said, his shoulders hunching gawkily. “You’re a good teacher, man.”