“Not only did I ask him, I basically announced that I liked him, you know, in that way, and told him that I knew he liked me, too.” Already Zinnie was feeling a little better telling someone about this.
“What did he say?” Chloe asked.
“He said it wasn’t him,” Zinnie said. “Oh, if only I’d come to the water tower first and seen you, I would have saved myself from the single most embarrassing moment of my life!”
“Did he say how he felt about you?” Chloe asked.
“Not really—he just didn’t respond to that part. That can only mean one thing, right? That he doesn’t like me in that way?”
“Not necessarily,” Chloe said. “I found out before I came here that this boy at my old school had had a crush on me since the second grade. I never even had a clue. And this boy had once seen me throw up my Halloween candy at recess. Talk about embarrassing!”
Chloe laughed and Zinnie did, too. It felt good—necessary, even—to share this experience with someone who understood.
“Do you like him as a boyfriend?” Zinnie asked.
“I’m not really into boyfriends and stuff like that,” Chloe said.
“I didn’t think I was either, until I met Max. Do you think there’s a chance he still likes me?” Zinnie asked.
“For sure,” Chloe said. “Maybe he didn’t say anything because you kind of surprised him, is all. Maybe he likes you for the same reason I do—because you’re not trying to be cool.”
“So you don’t think I’m cool?”
“OMG, that’s not what I meant!” Chloe said, resting a hand on Zinnie’s arm. “Exactly the opposite. I think you’re so cool because you’re not trying to be something you’re not. You’re not trying to impress anyone like . . . Well. Never mind.” Chloe’s face changed for a second.
“Like who?” Zinnie asked.
“Well, to be honest, like Marigold,” Chloe said.
“She does think she’s so cool,” Zinnie said. She’d had it up to her eyeballs with her sister, and though she didn’t realize it until this moment, keeping it to herself had been weighing on her. “She cares what everyone else thinks—a lot. Especially about her clothes.”
“I feel like she wants to impress me because she wants to get to my uncle or something,” Chloe said.
“She wants to impress you,” Zinnie said, a little taken aback. “But it’s more just because she wants to be friends with you.”
“She’s a lot to deal with sometimes,” Chloe said. “No offense. She’s what Nadia would call ‘toxic.’”
“She is,” Zinnie said, thinking of how unfair and mean Marigold had been lately. She knew she was treading on dangerous ground, but she was so fed up with Marigold that talking about her flaws was making Zinnie feel a little lighter. “Right now she’s driving me crazy.”
“In what way?” Chloe asked, handing her another strawberry.
“She’s blaming things on me that aren’t my fault—at all. She’s bossing me around like I’m her personal assistant. And she doesn’t seem to care about my work at all.”
“I really hope she doesn’t follow me around PAM next year,” Chloe said. “The only reason I’m hanging out with her now is because it’s the summer.”
“She probably won’t follow you at PAM,” Zinnie said. What had felt like sweet relief was taking on a sour tinge. “She’s not actually mean, you know. Just to me, but I’m her sister, and sisters do that sometimes.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Chloe said. “I’m an only child.”
“Sisters can be pretty rough with one another. I do it too—though she is way worse. And she’s not fake or anything. She does want to be friends with you.”
“I don’t think she’s, like, a bad person,” Chloe said. “It’s just that I’d really rather hang out with you, and she’s kind of a pain. You understand, right?”
Zinnie nodded, but couldn’t look her in the eye.
“You know what? I really should go,” Zinnie said. The guilt of having said mean things about her sister was starting to build. “I need to get back to my aunt’s.”
“Oh, okay,” Chloe said. “I was kind of hoping we could go to the beach—without Marigold, of course.”
A memory came to Zinnie: Marigold, crying in Mom’s arms because the Cuties had been mean to her. There was nothing worse than seeing her older sister cry.
“No, I need to get back to my family now, but thanks for all the amazing tips,” Zinnie said with a smile that made her cheeks ache.
“Uh, okay,” Chloe said. “Bye, I guess.”
“Bye,” Zinnie said as she scurried down the water tower’s ladder, eager to get on her bike and ride.
36 • Working Together
Marigold was helping get things ready for dinner while also trying to brainstorm possibilities for the tricentennial performance when Zinnie, brow creased, came into the backyard. She had been out on one of her writing adventures—getting more writing material. This was Zinnie’s mission in life, yet she couldn’t help Marigold come up with any ideas. Marigold had just this morning quickly read over Zinnie’s posts on her iPad, just to make sure that Zinnie wasn’t writing about her. And she wasn’t, thank goodness. Zinnie had been true to her word. The only sister she’d written about was Lily in a funny post about the bison.
“You know what?” Zinnie said.
“What?” Marigold asked as she set out the picnic blanket in the backyard. They were getting ready for an outdoor dinner. Tony was going to grill some hamburgers, and Peter, Mack, and Jean were coming over. Marigold was hoping that Peter, having had more time to cool off and think about what she’d said, might be a little more open about how he was feeling. She was also hoping that he wouldn’t ask for too many details about whatever the Silver sisters were planning on doing for the tricentennial, because she had no clue, even though she was determined to cement in his mind that they weren’t just summer people.
As if Zinnie could hear her thoughts, she approached Marigold and helped her straighten the edge of the picnic blanket. “I’ll help you figure out something for the tricentennial.”
“You will?” Marigold asked, surprised.
“Yes,” Zinnie said. “And I’m sorry.”
“You are?” Marigold asked.
“I’m sorry that I told Peter about Chloe. I honestly didn’t know,” Zinnie said.
“It’s okay,” Marigold said, though she was slightly suspicious. Zinnie’s current attitude was such a change from this morning. But having just been on the opposite side of the apology with Peter, Marigold knew how important it was to respond. “I forgive you. And I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did.”
“It’s okay,” Zinnie said, and wrapped her arms around her sister in a bear hug.
“Um, is something else going on?” Marigold asked.
“Yeah,” Zinnie said. She bit her lip, staring at the ground, and then spoke. “Max and I were messaging, and I thought he was Brave13 and that it meant that he liked me, but I was wrong. It wasn’t him.” She hid her face in her hands. “I basically told him I liked him, and he didn’t say he felt the same.”
“Wait, he’s not Brave13?” Marigold asked.
“No,” Zinnie said, peeking from between her fingers.
“Then who is?” Marigold asked. Zinnie shrugged, still covering her face.
“Who else could it be?” Marigold said.
“Dunno.” Zinnie busied herself with the picnic blanket. “But I’m pretty embarrassed.”
“I don’t know much about boyfriends,” Marigold said, sensing her sister’s distress. “But I don’t think they think about these things the way we do.”
“Do you have any advice?” Zinnie asked.
Marigold put a hand on her hip and thought. “Pretend it didn’t happen.”
“Really?” Zinnie asked. “But it did happen.”
“It happened for you, but did it happen for him?” Marigold said, feeling wise and older sisterly.
“I ha
ve no idea what you even mean by that,” Zinnie said.
“I mean if you act like everything is normal, then maybe it will just . . . be normal again,” Marigold said. Zinnie didn’t look convinced.
“Is everything okay over here?” Lily asked, stepping outside with plates, napkins, and utensils.
“Yeah,” Marigold said. “We’re cool.”
“We’re just talking about what we should do about the tricentennial performance,” Zinnie said.
“It should be fun and upbeat,” Marigold said. “It’s a celebration.”
“We need to write a song,” Lily said.
“That would be good,” Marigold said. “Except we can’t sing. Important detail.”
“Maybe a rap?” Zinnie said.
Marigold shrugged. “Eh, I don’t know about that.”
“A poem? Like, spoken word?” Zinnie suggested.
“Oh, I know!” Marigold said. “We can interview people about what they love about Pruet and put it together somehow.”
“Good idea,” Zinnie said. “Wait a second, did you get that idea from Madison’s blog?”
“So what if I did?” Marigold said. “This is totally different.”
“I guess you’re right,” Zinnie said. “It’s not like Madison invented interviewing.”
“Maybe we can act it out,” Lily said.
“And Chloe can do the choreography,” Marigold said.
“No,” Zinnie said firmly.
“Whoa,” Marigold said, sensing some hostility.
“It’s just that you’re the director, right?” Zinnie asked. “You want to be crowned Eliza Pruet, don’t you?”
“How’d you know?” Marigold asked.
“Give me a break,” Zinnie said. “I’m your sister.”
Later, as they ate their picnic of hamburgers, cucumber salad, and sliced tomatoes from the garden, Marigold interviewed everyone about what they loved most about Pruet.
“All the animals who live here,” Lily said. “Oh, and the people, too.”
“I love the sailing,” Peter added. His mood was definitely better than it had been last night. The best part was that because she had told him the whole truth from her end, she was at ease. “But I guess everybody already knows that.”
“A history of various buildings around Pruet would also be interesting,” Tony said.
“It sounds like everyone has their own opinions,” Aunt Sunny said.
“And they’re all pretty different,” Jean added.
“Maybe that’s it, though,” Marigold said. “Maybe if we combine all our favorite things about Pruet, you can put that together to write the song, Zinnie.”
“Don’t even think about asking me to play the guitar, okay?” Peter said. And everyone laughed, remembering his reluctant performance in the talent show the girls had put on their first summer here.
“Some people just don’t like performing,” Aunt Sunny said. “I know it might be hard for you girls, especially those of you headed to the Performing Arts Magnet, to understand, but it is true.”
“Luckily, I do,” Tony said. “The only thing I don’t do very well is compose original tunes. That’s why Tony and the Contractors is a cover band.”
“I bet Max could do it,” Marigold said. Of course! That was the perfect solution. He could sing, the sisters could act it out, and Marigold would direct. She glanced at Zinnie, who was shaking her head “no.” But Marigold just smiled at her reassuringly. Naturally Zinnie would have to be the one to ask him. She’d work on that later.
“Marigold, do you want to go for a walk with me?” Peter asked.
“Sure,” Marigold said. “Let’s go to the pear orchard.”
With a clear view of the night sky, it was the perfect spot to set things straight again.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” he said as they walked through the evening air, which had cooled as the sun had lowered, was full of the scent of Aunt Sunny’s flowers, and now hummed with insects.
“What part of what I said?” Marigold asked. “I kind of said a lot.”
“All of it, I guess,” Peter said as they passed beneath the stone archway. “There was this guy in my class in fifth grade, Jeremy. Man, what a jerk. He decided that because I had red hair he was going to call me Big Red, which everyone thought was pretty funny because I was the second shortest person in the class.”
“That’s so mean,” Marigold said. “Is he still in your class?”
“He is, but he doesn’t bother me anymore. Not since I joined the sailing team. The worst part was, he had been one of my best friends in fourth grade. In fifth grade I had a hard time with friends, and it was not a good year,” Peter said.
“So you understand—maybe—a little?” Marigold asked, taking a seat on the stone bench.
“Yeah,” Peter said, sitting next to her. The bench wasn’t very big. And yet, Marigold thought, he didn’t necessarily have to sit so very close to her. “I think so. You knew I might not be like, ‘Nice to meet you, niece of Mr. Rathbone. Welcome to Pruet.’”
“Exactly,” Marigold said. They chuckled. Peter held her gaze, and she felt her insides melt.
“So I’m sorry I was kind of stubborn when we were out by the ri-vah,” he said. Marigold swooned at his accent.
“And I was also thinking about how you said you wanted to spend more time with me,” Peter said. Marigold felt her color rise. “And that was sweet. Wicked sweet.” Marigold’s pulse quickened. “’Cause I want to spend more time with you, too.”
He leaned toward her, and she closed her eyes, anticipating the kiss she had imagined for so long. But just then she heard Lily’s voice.
“Marigold! Marigold!” Lily called. “Aunt Sunny made us brownies and Tony has his guitar and everyone is singing Beatles songs. You have to come back!”
“We’ll be right there, Lily,” Marigold said, hoping Lily might leave. But she stayed there waiting until Marigold and Peter gave her their full attention. “Okay, we’re coming.” Marigold and Peter smiled at each other as they stood up and headed back toward everyone else. At least they had five more nights.
Marigold interviewed the Pasques more about their favorite things about Pruet before they went home for the evening. Then she asked Aunt Sunny, Tony, and her sisters to go into great detail about what made this little town so special to them. After she had several notebook pages filled with ideas, and when the sisters were getting ready for bed, Marigold begged Zinnie to ask Max about singing the song.
“He has such a great voice, and you two do write really creative things together.”
“I feel so weird about Max right now!” Zinnie said. “You do it!”
“But you guys are friends, and the thing you like to do most together is make up songs. Look—I got all the information for you,” she said, handing over a few pieces of paper with everyone’s favorite things about Pruet written on it. “These words are perfect, but it’s no fun unless it’s set to music. You and Max can do that better than anyone.”
“But what about the fact that I just told him I liked him? Oh, I’m so embarrassed just thinking about it!” Zinnie said, hiding her face in her pillow.
“Here’s what I’ve learned about being embarrassed,” Marigold said, sitting on the edge of her sister’s bed. She had plenty of experience with the subject. In seventh grade she’d bragged to all her friends about being in a blockbuster movie and then felt like an idiot when her scene was cut. “The more embarrassed you act, the more awkward it gets. If you just move on, everyone else will, too.”
“So, like you were saying before, pretend like it never happened?” Zinnie asked.
“Pretty much,” Marigold said.
“I don’t know, Marigold. It definitely did happen— I really think it’d be better if you did this,” Zinnie said. “This is your project, after all.”
“But you’re so good at stuff like this—and Max has such a good voice and is so charming. And you and Max together? You’re like chocolate an
d peanut butter. A perfect combination.”
Zinnie shook her head.
“Please,” Marigold said. “I’m your sister, and I’m asking you from the bottom of my heart.”
Zinnie thought for a moment and then said, “Okay. As your sister.”
“Thank you,” Marigold said, wrapping her arms around Zinnie. “As family we have to have each other’s backs, right?”
“Right,” Zinnie said, though she looked like she was going to cry.
“Wait. Do you want me to talk to him first?” Marigold asked.
“No,” Zinnie said. “I can handle this. I can do it for my sister.”
“Are you sure?” Marigold asked.
“Sure,” Zinnie said. “I’ll do it right now.” And she and Marigold took her laptop into the backyard and typed a message to Max.
37 • The New Plan
Marigold had walked with Zinnie over to the yacht club a little early so they could watch the TV crew transform it back to its usual state. They sat on a picnic bench as the workers loaded up the trucks with lights and equipment. Inside, the crew carried the usual chairs and tables back into the dining room while others replaced the drapes and rehung pictures. They were due to return the yacht club back to the people of Pruet by the end of the morning.
This was not going to be an easy video chat with Max.
As Zinnie sat in Jean’s office, laptop at the ready, Zinnie felt as tense as the ball of elastic bands that Aunt Sunny kept in her kitchen drawer.
But what else could she do when her sister asked her something from the bottom of her heart? If Marigold knew that she’d been talking about her behind her back with Chloe, she’d be devastated.
So last night, with Marigold coaching her to “just act normal,” she’d messaged Max, seeing if he’d help her write a song for the tricentennial. She didn’t even mention their last message exchange. Zinnie heard back from him first thing in the morning. He’d replied, “Sure!” He’d also mentioned that they’d probably need to video chat, as it would be a lot easier to write a song together if they could actually see each other.
“Does noon Pruet time work for you?” Zinnie had asked.
The Silver Moon of Summer Page 15
