“Really?” Zinnie asked, deflated.
“Yeah, check it out,” Marigold said.
“Bye, Zinnie,” Lily said as she and Marigold walked down the driveway.
“Bye,” Zinnie said, and immediately went to Huzzah. There it was. Madison Valenzuela’s blog Sea Change! It had over a thousand shares! Zinnie put her head in her hands. Did she even stand a chance of being editor in chief? Was it worth trying? How could she compete with this? Regardless, she was going to have to complete the assignment, so she returned to her post and tried to make it better.
34 • The Whole Real Truth
Marigold had been anxious to see Peter again. They’d avoided each other the morning after the fun fourteenth, when Aunt Sunny had made them all oatmeal on the camp stove. Marigold could barely get a bite down, and Peter wouldn’t meet her eyes. And then he, Mack, and Jean had taken off early. She’d been hoping to see him at the yacht club today when she was working for Jean, but that was one of the days that Mr. Rathbone was using the docks, so Peter hadn’t been there. Marigold was both worried and relieved in the very same moment when she saw that Peter had decided to come along with Jean and join Aunt Sunny, Tony, Zinnie, and Lily for the “clean out your fridge” picnic on the beach.
This meant that everyone made something from the food in the refrigerator that needed to be eaten. The idea was to not let any food go to waste. It was best to choose a very scenic spot, Aunt Sunny had explained, in case the cooking wasn’t top notch. So, of course they’d decided to go to the beach with the big dunes and a view of Martha’s Vineyard in the far distance.
Ever since their first visit to Pruet, Marigold and her sisters had loved this beach. They had to drive down a long and winding country road to get here, through a pasture where hairy cows wandered free. There was a wide gate at the entrance, and Marigold, as the oldest child, was the one responsible for hopping out of the car and opening it so that they could drive through, and then closing it behind them once they had passed. The gate was to prevent the cows from escaping, though Marigold couldn’t understand why anyone, person or animal, would want to escape this beautiful place.
And yet, a part of her did want to escape. This was partially because she had absolutely no desire to spend time with Zinnie after she’d spilled the beans about Chloe and then refused to help her with the tricentennial preparations. And also because her heart was beating so fast as she watched Peter and his parents come down the dune carrying the cooler, her instinct was to hide and not confront him. However, she’d made up her mind that day as she was painting tricentennial signs, that she needed to talk to him and explain why she hadn’t told him about Chloe. She’d thought about it, almost to the exclusion of everything else, and realized that she had, in a way, tricked him, despite her innocent intentions. And maybe his mom had been right—he needed to cool down before he was capable of hearing her point of view.
As he approached she thought he was looking especially handsome in his Pruet sailing T-shirt. All that time out on the water had given his skin a glow that Marigold found irresistible.
“Peter,” Marigold said before she had a chance to lose her courage. “I think we need to talk.”
“Okay,” Peter said with a nod.
As Aunt Sunny, Tony, Jean, Mack, and her sisters set out the picnic blanket and food, Marigold gestured for Peter to follow her down the beach. The breeze was warm, and the sun threaded the water with gold. Once they were out of earshot of the rest of the group, Marigold gathered herself and said, “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you who Chloe was right away.” Peter nodded again, and she could tell that she had his full attention. “You were right in that, well, I thought you’d never want to hang out with her if you knew she was Mr. Rathbone’s niece, so I didn’t tell you.”
“It made me feel like an idiot,” Peter said.
“I’m sorry,” Marigold said, and gave the words a few moments to land. “What you don’t know is that I had a really rough year with friends in eighth grade.”
“You did?” Peter said.
“Yeah,” Marigold said. “I pretty much had no friends all year.”
“That must have been hard,” Peter said.
“It’s why I decided to switch schools,” Marigold said. She walked closer to the water so that when the waves rolled in, the foam would wash over her toes.
“I didn’t know that,” Peter said.
“So when I found out that Chloe was going to my new school, I just really wanted to get to know her better. And at the same time,” she started, but felt a bit short of breath, “I also wanted to spend time with you. So that’s, kind of, what happened.”
“Makes more sense now,” Peter said. “I still feel kind of weird about it, though.”
“Okay,” Marigold said. She hoped that Peter might say something about how he wanted to spend more time with her as well, but instead, he walked quietly next to her. Did his silence mean that he didn’t like her anymore? She felt better about having told him the whole, real truth, but began to worry that she really had ruined her chance at having a boyfriend this summer. She decided to give him thirty more seconds to tell her that he was sorry about overreacting last night and that he wanted to spend more time with her, and after that she was going to end this walk. When he didn’t say a word, she said, “Let’s go eat. I’m getting hungry.” And she turned around and raced back to the picnic with the wind at her back.
When they returned to the picnic, Jean was staring at her phone in horror.
“I knew it was too good to be true!” Jean said.
“What’s wrong?” Aunt Sunny asked.
“Yeah, Mom,” Peter said. “What happened?”
“It’s Sirens and Sailors,” Jean answered with a sigh. “They’ve booked a last-minute gig at an important venue in New York City and won’t be able to perform at the tricentennial!”
“They abandoned ship?” Tony asked. Jean nodded. “That’s too bad.”
“But they already made a commitment to us!” Zinnie said, indignant.
“It was just a handshake deal,” Mack said. “We didn’t use contracts. Never in a million years did I think we’d have to. They’re locals. It was only two years ago that their lead singer was teaching at our sailing school.”
“They’re locals who got famous,” Peter said, shaking his head. “So now they’re only thinking about themselves, just like those Hollywood people.”
“Peter, enough with that,” Jean said. “These dear girls are from Hollywood.”
“Not all Hollywood people are bad,” Lily said, scooping some potato salad onto her plate. “Like my mom and dad. They’re the best.”
“I know,” Marigold said. “We can take the place of Sirens and Sailors. Zinnie will write something, I’ll direct it, and we’ll all perform it.”
“You will?” Peter asked.
“Maybe we should think about this,” Zinnie said. “It’s not like we have a lot of time.”
“We can do it!” Marigold said, taking in Zinnie’s skeptical look. “We just need to work quickly.”
“You’re right about that,” Aunt Sunny said.
“Zinnie, Lily, and I might be from California, but we love Pruet so much. Don’t worry, Jean. We won’t let you down.”
“You girls are incredibly creative,” Jean said.
“I don’t know if we . . . ,” Zinnie started.
“Don’t you love Pruet?” Marigold said.
“Of course,” Zinnie said.
“Then it’s settled,” Marigold said.
There was no way Peter would think of her as just a summer person now. And this would definitely put her in the running to be Eliza Pruet.
35 • A Surprise Guest
Zinnie was doing her best to avoid Marigold, which wasn’t easy in a house as small as Aunt Sunny’s. It would have been no problem in L.A., with their busy schedules and separate bedrooms, but in Pruet it was nearly impossible. If they were going to get through the rest of their time here without
fighting, however, Zinnie thought it would be best if they just gave each other plenty of room.
And Marigold was out of her mind if she thought Zinnie was going to be able to write some kind of performance in the next few days! She had a blog! After she’d slept on it, she decided that there was no way she was going to give up on her dream of being editor in chief of Muses, even now that Madison’s blog now had 1,350 shares (Zinnie had a hard time keeping herself from checking). She was just going to have to make this the best blog that she could. Maybe there was some way she could get her blog featured on Huzzah too, though that seemed very unlikely.
Luckily, she had the legitimate excuse of her blog to keep her busy whenever Marigold accosted her about writing something for her to direct for the tricentennial. As far as Zinnie was concerned, Marigold had gotten herself into that situation and she was going to have to get herself out! Zinnie had finally reworked the piece about the fun fourteenth by simply calling it “The Camping Trip” and not including Marigold in the narrative. It was all about the canoe. She had gone over it so many times, she knew it was in good shape, but she still thought it was the weakest of her posts so far. She guessed that was the price of leaving out the truth.
She’d also been wondering why Max hadn’t just come out by now and told her he was Brave13. It couldn’t be anyone else, could it? she wondered with a shudder. Maybe he was feeling shy about it because he liked her as much as she liked him. Once again the sweet, shivery love song feeling came over her. She was on her way to check her email, her laptop tucked under her arm, when Marigold tapped her on the shoulder.
“Yes?” Zinnie asked.
“We need to work on our performance today,” Marigold said.
“I already told you,” Zinnie said. “I can’t help with that.”
“Come on, you can just write a play, can’t you?” Marigold asked. “You can just step away once you’re done. I’m going to be the director.”
“No,” Zinnie said. “I can’t write a play when I’m so focused on something else—like my blog.”
“We still have four days,” Marigold said. “I don’t know why you’re being so stubborn.”
Lily poked her head around the corner. “You two need to be nice to each other.”
“You can write something yourself,” Zinnie said.
“Fine,” Marigold said. “Maybe I will.”
Zinnie went to the backyard and checked her email. There was a message from Brave13. Yes!
Next on your list, the water tower! But not the new water tower—the old one. Very important distinction. Oh, and the afternoon is the best time to go.
Brave13 once again attached a link to a map, and Zinnie had her next adventure. A message popped on her screen. It was Max! Her heart fluttered, and sure enough, she was back in the land of hearts and rainbows, vibrating like a hummingbird sipping pollen from a hot-pink hibiscus. The idea of Brave13 being a mystery had been fun for a while, but now she just wanted to let go of the game and talk about all the places he had sent her and why. She could only imagine what it would feel like to actually share her feelings. All she knew about being in love, or at least in like, revolved around her emotions being private. They were bubbling up now, like a soda can that had been shaken, and she thought she might explode if she didn’t open up to Max. She beamed as she saw his words appear on the screen of her laptop.
Max: Hi!
Zinnie: Hi Max! The water tower’s next, huh?
Max: Next for what?
Zinnie: My blog!
Max: What do you mean?
Zinnie: I don’t want to ruin the mystery, but I think I should tell you that I know it’s you. And it’s the best, sweetest thing in the world!
Max: Uh . . .
Zinnie: Don’t be shy! I’m so happy about it!
Max: Happy about what?
Zinnie: That you’ve been sending me all these secret emails about places in Pruet! I know you like me, and guess what? I like you, too!
Max: Zinnie, I really don’t know what you’re talking about. I read your blog because my grandpa told me about it, but I didn’t send you those clues. Seriously.
Zinnie: So you didn’t send me a bunch of messages about liking me?
Max: No.
Zinnie felt the color drain from her face. Her stomach tightened and churned.
Zinnie: Really?
Max: It wasn’t me.
Zinnie: I gotta go!
Zinnie signed off before Max could even reply. She was so embarrassed she felt like her whole body was changing color, from beet red to ghost white to a dull shade of green. She put her head between her knees, trying not to faint with humiliation. How could she have been so wrong about everything? And why had she revealed her feelings for him before she’d been absolutely certain that he felt the same way? Her ears started to ring. She bet this was some kind of rule of romance—“Don’t announce your feelings about the other person until you have real proof that they like you, too.” It was probably a rule that Marigold knew. Ugh, Marigold would have never made this mistake! As annoying as Marigold had been lately, and as unfair as she’d been about the fun fourteenth, Zinnie wished now that she’d asked her older sister for more advice about boyfriends and girlfriends. Maybe it would’ve stopped her from experiencing this moment of feeling like a snail, struggling to get its whole body inside its shell. She now understood what all those heartbreak songs were about on the radio.
After her panic had passed, but still with the weight of disappointment hanging on her like a wet beach towel, Zinnie closed her laptop and went to the kitchen, where Aunt Sunny had surely baked some snacks. Cookies could solve most anything. At least, up until now they had been able to. Sure enough, there was a plate of pecan sandies on the counter. She ate two. They did help a little, but not as much as Zinnie hoped.
Later, Zinnie rode on the red bike out to the old water tower. She saw it from a distance and had to leave her bike by the road and then walk a while up a little hill to reach it. She climbed the many stairs to the top, and just when she reached the top she heard a voice say, “You’re here!”
She looked up and saw Chloe.
“Chloe! What are you doing here?” Zinnie asked.
“What do you mean? I’m the one who told you to come,” Chloe said.
“Huh?” Zinnie asked.
“I’m Brave13,” Chloe said with a smile.
“You are?” Zinnie asked. Chloe did a little bow. Zinnie put her hands over her mouth with surprise.
“Isn’t this place the best?” Chloe asked, opening her arms to gesture to the three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view all around them. Zinnie had to admit it was the best view in all of Pruet. She snapped some pictures for her blog.
“I thought it was the perfect place for a picnic,” Chloe said, and held up a paper bag. She pulled out some quinoa salad, strawberries, and iced green tea. “I even brought us a picnic blanket.” Chloe spread out a blanket for them.
“Want a strawberry?” Chloe asked. “I got them from Featherbrook Farm. Great post, by the way. I was laughing like crazy about the attack goose.”
“Featherbrook Farm is awesome,” Zinnie said, taking a strawberry. It was flavorful and sweet, and the juices dripped down her chin. “All the places you’ve sent me to have been. But I have to ask . . . why?”
“That first day I met you, you looked like you needed a muse,” Chloe said, popping a strawberry into her mouth. “And then, I don’t know, I just thought it was working so well. Your blog posts are so good that I thought I’d keep going.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me it was you?” Zinnie said, sipping some green tea. It was bitter; nothing like Aunt Sunny’s sweet sun tea.
“Would you have thought I was a good muse if you knew who I was?” Chloe asked.
“Probably not,” Zinnie agreed. After all, hadn’t half the fun been imagining it was Max? “But wait. How do you know about all these places? You’re not from here.”
“My uncle and I have been doin
g location scouting for weeks,” Chloe said. “You know, like before people shoot a movie, they go to the place where they’re going to film it and look at all the possible locations for scenes. My uncle loves to take me because he says that kids can see things that adults don’t.”
“I wonder why that is,” Zinnie said. The comment made her think of Lily, who did seem to be able to see what others couldn’t.
“Nadia says we’re more open human beings, less likely to be worried about something or thinking about the future. She says we live in the moment, so the world reveals itself to us.” Chloe smiled.
“Wow,” Zinnie said. “That’s so cool. That’s, like, one of the coolest things I’ve ever heard.” It was conversations like this that made her want to be friends with Chloe in the first place. Zinnie had intuited that they had a connection, and she’d been right. “Do you mind if I include that in my blog?”
“Of course not!” Chloe said, and laughed. “That’s what I like about you.”
“What?” Zinnie said. The wind picked up, and a group of clouds puffed across the sky like horses.
“You’re so not like the kids I know in L.A. They all care so much about what other people think of them. They’d be like, ‘Oh yeah, I already knew that.’ They don’t want to look uncool.”
“What are you trying to say?” Zinnie asked, suspicious of where this was headed. She’d never thought of herself as “cool” but she didn’t want other people to think that. Or if they did, she didn’t want them to tell her!
“Just that I like you,” Chloe said with an easy laugh.
Zinnie believed her. “I just did something really embarrassing,” she said. The surprise of seeing Chloe had momentarily made her forget about what had just happened with Max.
“Tell me,” Chloe said. Her teeth were red from the strawberries.
“I thought that someone else was Brave13—a boy,” Zinnie said, burying her face in her hands.
“What’s so embarrassing about that?” Chloe asked. “Did you ask him if he was?”
The Silver Moon of Summer Page 14
