Some Kind of Wonderful

by J. Minter

  The buzz was that TZ was hanging out with his family until dessert—which was just fine with me. I wasn't in any rush to face him after the way I'd acted last night.

  When Meredith took her seat next to Kennedy at the other end of the table, Camille leaned in to me and said, "That's her, isn't it? I just don't know about her bone structure with those braids."

  In that instant, I loved her even more completely. She wasn't saying it in an empty, bitchy way—she just shared my feelings about Meredith and wanted hair success stories for everyone she saw.

  Dinner was delicious, and I only snagged Meredith's eye once. Both of us blushed and looked back down at our plates. Clearly, we had a conversation coming our way. But mostly, I tried not to think about it. Camille was making all of us laugh with her imitation of her grandmother flirting with all the old men at the pool.

  On my right was Mattie Hendricks. She nudged me at one point when we were all laughing at one of Camille's impressions and said, "Isn't this the most fun you've ever had?"

  If I were to be honest with Mattie, I could give her a whole slew of reasons why this paled in comparison to the fun I had most of the time in the city. But she seemed so earnest and excited to be hanging out with us at this table that I just smiled at her and said, "Yeah, it's pretty awesome."

  "Pretty awesome?" she said, adjusting her indigo headband. "It's amazing. You know how we were talking about TZ that first night at the bonfire?"

  "Yeah," I said, wondering where this conversation was going. "I remember. Why do you ask?"

  "I just about died when I realized he was going to be on this trip. My friends and I are all obsessed with him. When I texted them to say that he was staying two doors down from me this week, they all bet me that I couldn't get him to talk to me. I've been trying to get his attention all week."

  I was about to open my mouth to tell Mattie that yeah, TZ was hot, but that I was sure she could find an equally awesome guy, and not to sweat it if things didn't pan out this week, when Kennedy came up behind us on her way back from a trip to the buffet.

  "Did I hear that someone has a little crush on TZ?" she asked, her voice all high and saccharine.

  Mattie blushed, but she couldn't contain herself. She grinned shyly at Kennedy. "No . . . I mean . . . I don't know."

  "How much do you like him?" Kennedy asked. Her voice was louder than Mattie probably realized, and people at the table were looking at us. "Like, what would you do for the chance to go out with him?"

  "I don't know," Mattie said again, squirming in her seat.

  "Would you eat dog food if it meant you could kiss TZ?"

  "Um," Mattie said. She was starting to look uncomfortable. Kennedy was getting really loud.

  Now the whole table of twenty-five people was looking at us. Kennedy was being stupid and inappropriate, and I could tell Mattie had no idea what to do. I don't know why, but it was so much easier for me to stand up for her than it'd been for me to stand up for myself all week.

  "Kennedy, why don't you leave her alone?" I said, twisting around to face her.

  "She'd probably kiss Terrick's dog just to get close to him." Now Kennedy was practically shouting. "Wouldn't you, Mattie? Admit it."

  "Kennedy," I said, matching her voice. "Shut up, okay? What are you trying to do?"

  She turned to me, and I could see her eyes flashing. "What do you care, Flan? Now you're Mattie's babysitter?"

  Before I realized it, I was standing up, facing the enemy, making a whole spectacle in front of the entire dinner party.

  "You know what? You treat people like crap. I don't know why you do it, but I'm sick of just standing by and watching you. You can't act like this. It's not right."

  Kennedy put her hands on her hips. "Oh yeah, well what's right by Flan Flood standards? If you're such an expert on friendship, then why don't you tell everyone here why one of your best friends jumped ship on day two of this vacation, and your other best friend can't even stand to be near you? She hasn't slept at your bungalow in days."

  I sucked in my breath and found myself looking at Meredith across the table, but she wouldn't return my gaze. Then I realized that this wasn't about Meredith. This was only about Kennedy's struggle for power.

  Just then, the door to the restaurant opened up and TZ sauntered in with an apple pie and a jug of sparkling cider. "Courtesy of Mom and Pop Zumberg," he said. "Who's ready to get this party started?"

  Kennedy rushed to him and whispered something in his ear. "Let's get out of here," she said aloud. "This dinner blows. It's time for the non-losers to get out and have some fun."

  I braced myself for the mass exodus a la last night to occur. But I'd forgotten how much it meant to have a real friend waiting in the wings. While I'd been duking it out with Kennedy, Camille had been knowingly distracting everyone with our secret weapon: the cookies and cinnamon-chocolate.

  By the time I'd turned around, fully expecting the rest of the table to have thrown down their napkins to duck out with Kennedy, Camille had the whole room dipping cookies in chocolate and saying cheers to each other before they swallowed them down.

  TZ walked right over and gave Camille a hug. As it turned out, they were old family friends and were totally psyched to see each other.

  He picked up a cookie and dunked it in the chocolate. "Damn," he said after he had taken a bite. "You two made these? You should open a store in the city. These cookies are amazing!"

  I was so stunned that TZ didn't hate me that I almost didn't notice Kennedy fuming.

  "Okaaay, who wants to go down to the beach? I think I can get us the yacht again." But she sounded hesitant and nervous. I tried not to take too much satisfaction in the shakiness of her voice.

  "Danny, Rob, come on. I know you guys are in," she said.

  And at that moment, both Danny and Rob grabbed cookies from our pile and dipped them in our chocolate.

  "Dude," Rob said, "I think we're cool to hang out here."

  "Whatever," Kennedy said, clearly pissed. "Meredith, let's go."

  Meredith stood up from her seat at the table. I watched her lay down her turkey cookie without taking a bite and follow Kennedy out of the room. The braids looked terrible on her. I should have been there to stop her from getting them in the first place.

  Even though the turn of events tonight had been awesome, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of sadness as the clinking sound of Mer's beaded braids disappeared down to the beach.

  Chapter 18

  THE BEST IDEA SHE EVER HAD

  After midnight, a big group of us moved the party down to the beach. Rob was wearing a Rasta wig and playing the guitar again. A few people were racing each other down the sandbars. The bonfire was lit, and we were all passing around s'mores.

  "We should do something to celebrate the fact that this party is drama-free," Camille said, grinning at me.

  TZ laughed and speared another marshmallow. "Aren't we already?" he asked. "What's not celebratory about tonight?"

  "I mean we should do something crazy," Camille said, waving her hands in the air.

  "Just say the word," TZ said. "I'm all about the crazy celebrations."

  It was obvious that everyone was having an awesome time—even Mattie had taken off her loafers and dipped her feet in the water for a few seconds—but I was still surprised that TZ didn't seem to mind that Kennedy and Meredith weren't hanging out with everyone else.

  "TZ, do you know what Kennedy's up to tonight?" I asked him.

  "Oh, you girls and your drama," he said, patting my knee.

  "I didn't mean it like that. I just, I thought you guys were friends. I thought you and Meredith were . . . friends, too."

  "Look, Kennedy's one story. Part of me loves her. I mean, we go back to when we were in diapers. So I know we'll always be cool. But sometimes she can just be too intense. I'm so not into all that exclusivity bullshit—especially not on vacation."

  "Yeah," I said, "that makes sense." But I still had to know one more thing. "What
about Meredith?"

  "I like Meredith. I think she's really cute. Okay, not as cute as the present company." He nudged Camille's and my knees and gave us his trillion dollar smile. "And she seemed cool, you know, really mellow. Then, once I started talking to her . . . I don't know, sometimes it seemed like she didn't know who she was, like she was just agreeing with whoever was talking, regardless of how she really felt. I like a girl who knows what she wants, even if I totally disagree with her."

  I nodded and withdrew my marshmallow from the fire. It was burned to a crisp, just the way I liked it.

  TZ pointed at my flaming 'mallow. "Like that right there. I wholeheartedly disagree with the way you have destroyed your s'more."

  "Destroyed!" I said, acting shocked. "You haven't lived until you've tasted my singed s'more specialty."

  "Oh, really," he joked. "I assume you'll be serving those at your cookies-and-chocolate shop on West Fourth Street?"

  "It'll be the daily special," I said.

  We grinned at each other, and for a second neither one of us said anything. The heat of the fire on my face suddenly felt super intense.

  "Okay, you two, I'll settle this," Camille said. "Give me both of your s'mores, and I'll be the judge of whose is more delicious."

  "That's clearly just a ploy to get more s'mores without having to do any of the work," TZ said. But in the end, both of us handed them over.

  Camille sampled the s'mores with the attention to detail of a judge on Top Chef. After a pensive moment, she deemed mine superior in chocolate meltiness and TZ's superior in marshmallow-to-graham cooperation.

  "That's a cop-out," TZ said. "You're just afraid to pick your favorite."

  "Not even," Camille said, feigning a diva and shaking her finger at us. "Unlike Meredith, I have never in my life been scared to have an opinion."

  "Oh, Meredith." I sighed. I wondered what she was doing right now. "She was a good friend. I just think she has some growing up to do."

  "Along with a little bit of jewelry-making training," TZ said, rubbing his neck. He was still wearing her necklace. I had stopped wearing mine days ago. But then he said, "What'd she weave this thing out of, poison ivy? My neck is on fire. I have to get rid of this."

  At that moment, TZ's border collie trotted over to us and nuzzled up against Camille.

  "Hey, Bruce," she said, giving him a scratch. "Bruce, do you need a new collar? TZ, give me that thing."

  TZ tossed her the necklace, and she fastened it around the poor dog's neck. Bruce tried to get at his neck to give his new collar a sniff, but he couldn't reach it, so he just gave us a few angry barks and trotted off.

  "I think it suits him," Camille said thoughtfully.

  "Well, that's because he's got terrible taste," TZ said. "Yesterday, I took him for a walk up on the cliff over there, and he was getting all flirty with this poodle—"

  "Um, I have a crazy beyond crazy idea," Camille suddenly butted in.

  "Yay!" I said. There was something so genuine about Camille that it was hard not to get just as excited as she was, even before I had a clue what she was talking about.

  "What is it this time?"TZ joked. He looked at me. "Are you familiar with her ideas}"

  I laughed. "They're practically legendary around my house. My mother still can't get the garlic smell out of her Persian rug from one of Camille's ideas back in third grade."

  "No, you guys'll like this one. TZ, which cliff did you take Bruce for a walk to yesterday?"

  TZ pointed out in front of him. "That one right there. Star Cliff. The one where Flan . . ."

  He trailed off, but I could have finished his sentence in a number of ways.

  The cliff where Flan was mortally mortified.

  The site of Flan's botched party.

  The place no friend of Flan's would bring up if he wanted to avoid her extreme embarrassment.

  Camille jumped in to my rescue. "You mean the one where Flan, and you, and me are going to go right now to go cliff-diving until sunrise?"

  "Whoa,"TZ said, "where did that come from?"

  "Come on. Haven't you always wanted to do that?"

  The truth was, I had always wanted to do that. Ever since I read an article in my dad's Extreme Adventure magazine four years ago. It was one of my major lifetime fantasy goals, and the only person who knew that was . . . Camille!

  I grinned at her. "Seriously," I said.

  "Seriously."

  TZ shrugged. "I guess we can sleep when we're dead."

  Pretty soon after that, the party started to break up. Everyone's eyes were bloodshot from staring at the fire for so long, and people were yawning, clearly crashing from their sugar highs.

  On the other side of the bonfire, Rena shouted, "Can we please stop listening to Amy Winehouse? I think I'm about to shoot myself."

  "What are you talking about?" Paul called back. "It's been Rob playing guitar the whole time."

  Camille and I giggled.

  "Ouch,"TZ whispered to me. "I know my cousin has kind of a high voice, but man. I hope he didn't hear that."

  "Whatever, you guys," Rob said, slinging his guitar over his back. "I'm going to turn in. Don't be asking me for autographs when I have a platinum album."

  Danny raised his voice an octave and squealed, "Can you make this one out to Danny, from Amy with love?"

  Everyone was laughing and in good spirits as they packed up their stuff and got ready to head home. The boys snuffed out the bonfire using their very macho method of peeing on it and then dousing it with seawater when that didn't work.

  Camille, TZ, and I hung back after we said good night to the rest of the crew.

  "So, are we really going to do this?"TZ asked.

  "Yeah," I said, taking control. "We are."

  "Okay." He put his arm around me. "Whatever Flan says goes."

  It was just about five in the morning when the three of us got to the summit of the cliff. We'd been having so much fun on the walk up that I forgot what kind of spectacular view was awaiting us at the top. When we'd started walking, there'd been the faintest tinge of yellow in the sky. The cliff faced east, and by now the eastern sky was streaked a brilliant orange-red. A few clouds gathered along the horizon and glowed hot pink in front of the sun.

  "When was the last time you were up to see the sunrise?" TZ asked us.

  "Fishing trip with the dads, sixth grade," Camille and I both said at the exact same time. Then we burst out laughing.

  "Jinx!" she shouted.

  "That trip was amazing," I said to Camille.

  "Remember when you caught that massive flounder, and your dad made us eat it for dinner?" Camille said.

  "Gross!" I said, remembering.

  "Flounder's awesome," TZ said. "The three of us should go fishing sometime. I could show you guys a thing or two."

  "Okay," I said. "But first things first. We came here to cliff-dive. Who's ready?"

  I looked at the two of them, and all three of us nodded. We were nervous. We were excited. We were right in the middle of one of the wildest nights of our lives.

  We walked to the edge of the cliff together and looked down at the water below. It looked so far away, so black and cold, but I knew it would be eighty degrees and perfectly clear once we got in.

  TZ took off his shirt and his shoes and looked at us. "Okay, time for you two to strip down."

  "As if," Camille said, laughing. "Flan, are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

  "Thank God Diane von Furstenberg's couture comes with slip dresses underneath?"

  "Exactly!"

  We took off our flip-flips and the silky top layers of our dresses. Both of us joined TZ in our little white slips, which covered just enough not to feel totally exposed and embarrassed.

  "Okay,"TZ said, "you have to make a wish on the way down."

  "Says who?" Camille asked.

  "Just do it," I said.

  "Okay," Camille said. "Here we go!"

  We held hands for a second before we jumped, but once we
were in the air, we all raised our arms up toward the sky.

  It felt like an eternity that I was floating downward toward the water, watching the sun come up. And then, just before I hit the sea, I made my wish.

  Please let the rest of this school year be as much fun as tonight, no matter where I end up.

  I hit the water.

  It was warm and crystal clear, just like I knew it was going to be. Just the way I liked it. I bobbed to the surface and spotted Camille and TZ's heads pop up at the same time. All three of us were laughing and gasping for air.

  We couldn't get enough.

  Chapter 19

  CHOCOLATE SAYS I'M SORRY

  An hour later, after a rigorous backflip contest and attempted relay race between the coves (in which Camille and I beat TZ twice), the three of us parted ways. I dragged my damp, dehydrated self home for some much needed R&R.

  Every part of my body felt sore from exertion and exhaustion—but I also felt strangely invigorated. I could feel the endorphins flowing through me, and I remembered that this was what I used to feel like after a really good night out in the city. When you came home too exhausted to stay awake another minute, but too keyed up to actually fall asleep.

  I felt like . . . myself again.

  I was smiling as I walked up the path to my bungalow, my shoes tucked under my arm.

  "Somebody looks like she had a good night last night," a voice said from behind me.

  "Aaah!" I screamed, dropping my shoes and causing a family of sleeping toucans to take flight from the palm tree next to me.

  I turned around to find Guy, the pool boy and dessert deliverer, who was now dressed in a waiter's suit, standing next to a van and a wheeled cart of trays. He'd thrown up both of his hands in a Don't shoot pose when I started yelling.

  "You scared me," I said, catching my breath.

  "You scared the whole island," he said, laughing a little. "I am sorry for being scary so early this morning."

  "What are you doing here?" I asked.

  "You didn't order room service?" he said.

  "Um, no . . . " I paused. Unless Meredith ordered something. God, I really hoped she wasn't planning on having some breakfast party powwow with Kennedy in my bungalow. All I wanted to do was sleep. Then again, I doubted Meredith would have slept at home last night. According to Kennedy, she couldn't stand to be near me.