Just a Summer Romance, Page 3

  “Forever,” replied the boy. “I don’t even remember a time when the three of us lived together.”

  “You don’t have any brothers or sisters?”

  The boy shook his head. “Not unless you count Rochelle.”

  “Rochelle?”

  “My mom’s collie.”

  “Your mother has a dog named Rochelle?” Mel began to giggle.

  The boy smiled. “She says it’s her favorite girl’s name, and she’s not going to have any more children, so she might as well use it on the dog.”

  “Your mother sounds funny.”

  “She is. Actually, she’s kind of wild. I go back and forth between my mom’s place and my dad’s. You know, equal time. When I’m at my mom’s, I hardly ever see her. She’s always off doing things—going to big parties, taking hula lessons, spending the weekend on someone’s yacht. Once she tried skydiving. Do you know the story of Mame?”

  Mel nodded.

  “My mother is kind of like Auntie Mame.”

  “Oh,” said Mel, impressed. “Wow. What about your dad?”

  “He’s great, but he works really hard. I don’t see that much of him either. He’s a movie director.”

  “You’re kidding!” exclaimed Mel.

  “Yeah. Right now he’s working on a movie in California. He’s been back and forth, back and forth all summer.”

  “What do you do when it’s your dad’s turn to have you and he’s out in California?”

  “You sure ask a lot of questions,” the boy said cheerfully.

  “Sorry. I can’t help it. It’s just part of me. Maybe I’ll put it to good use and become a newspaper reporter some day.”

  For a moment, the boy didn’t say anything. Then he answered Mel’s question. “Well, anyway, when Dad’s gone, his housekeeper stays with me. Leila. She’s okay. She’s here now. She’s been back and forth too, between the apartment and this house all summer, trying to take care of both places and keep an eye on me, too.”

  Mel tried to imagine what it would be like to have as much money as this boy’s family seemed to have. She tried to imagine how she would feel if her parents were divorced and she had two families instead of just one. She decided it might be glamorous and exciting for about a week, and then she would be glad to be back in one snug, housekeeperless home with both her parents.

  The boy stood up. “I’ve practically told you my life history,” he said. “Let’s walk to the Casino, and then you can tell me about you.”

  “So you know the Casino.”

  “It’s hard to miss. Besides, Dad took me there for dinner on Thursday night.”

  The Casino was the restaurant on the beach. It was also the gathering spot for all of Davis Park. Next to the restaurant was a room with a bar and video games where people went dancing at night. Outside the building were benches and soda machines, and a counter for ordering hot dogs, hamburgers and French fries.

  Mel stood up and dusted the sand off her legs. She tossed the remains of her breakfast in a trash can, and she and the boy headed down the beach.

  “So? What about you?” asked the boy as they walked slowly through the sand.

  “There’s not much to tell,” replied Mel. “There’s my mom and my dad and me, and my sister Dee—she’s sixteen—and Timmy the Frisbee-thrower—he’s nine.”

  “And Lacey?”

  “Lacey Reeder’s my summertime best friend. Her family’s beach house is next door to ours. We’ve spent every summer of our lives together. But since the Reeders live in New York City, I don’t see her much the rest of the year.”

  The boy nodded.

  He and Mel ambled down the beach, which was filling up quickly. It must be almost lunchtime, Mel realized.

  They reached the Casino and sat down on one of the benches, facing the ocean.

  “What do you want?” asked the boy. “Coke? Diet Coke?”

  “Mel! Hey, Mel!” a voice called suddenly. Timmy came flying up the wooden steps to the Casino. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Mom wants you to come home. She says, ‘Have you forgotten we’re having a lobster picnic since Dad’s here?’ Come on!”

  Mel, her cheeks burning, looked forlornly at the boy. “I guess I better go. Sorry.”

  “Hey, that’s okay,” he replied. “Look, I’ll see you around.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “Mel, come on.” Timmy had grabbed her hand.

  “Okay, okay,” said Mel crossly. She followed her brother down the steps, pausing once to turn and wave to the boy. It wasn’t until she was halfway home that Mel realized she still didn’t know the boy’s name.

  Chapter Five

  MEL COULDN’T BELIEVE SHE’D been so stupid as not to get the boy’s name or give him hers. He didn’t even know where she lived. What if she never saw him again? Immediately, she realized that that was silly because she knew where he lived, and if she didn’t see him in a few days, she could always go to his house.

  Then she began to worry. First she worried that the boy, in thinking the morning over, would decide she’d been too pushy—following him down the beach and spying on his house. Then she worried that he’d think she didn’t really like him—after all, she hadn’t told him her name.

  Mel spent the afternoon wondering what to do. She barely tasted her lobster and was too preoccupied to talk to her father (or anyone else). After supper that evening, she decided she needed to be alone to think.

  “I’m going to the ferry dock,” she announced. She threw on her sneakers and ran down the walk. Then she slap-slapped along through the dusk to the boats. One look up the ferry dock showed her that too many people were already there to allow any privacy. She strolled a bit further to the last dock in the bay and walked all the way out to the end.

  There she plopped down, her feet hanging over the side. They didn’t quite reach the water. She leaned back on her hands and gazed across the bay. Very faintly, she could see the mainland along the horizon. The sun, a glowing orange orb, had set several minutes earlier.

  Mel kicked her feet back and forth and thought.

  She closed her eyes, feeling the damp, salty breeze on her face, and tried to picture the boy—his limpid eyes, his head of curls. After a few moments, she sensed that someone had sat down beside her. Inwardly, she groaned. She had come to the dock to be alone. Who had followed her? Lacey? Dee? Timmy?

  Finally she opened her eyes and looked around.

  It was the boy!

  “Hi!” Mel cried.

  “Hello,” said the boy. “I thought it was you. I was taking a walk and I saw you from the Harbor Store.”

  “I needed a little peace and quiet.”

  “Do you want me to leave?”

  “Oh, no!” said Mel quickly. “No, I want you to stay.” Immediately, she wondered whether she was being too forward again. “I mean, if you want to stay.”

  “Sure,” the boy replied. “You know, I love the sun, and lying around on the beach, but I think this is my favorite time of day.”

  “Mine, too,” said Mel. “Or maybe a little later than this. I kind of like the dark. I used to be afraid of it, but now I like it. Timmy says I’m weird. I like rain, too.”

  “You do? So do I! I like sitting by a window with the rain streaming down the panes.”

  “When I was little, my mom used to read this poem to me. It’s called ‘Windy Nights,’ but the first four lines are about rain, and I love them.”

  “I know what they are,” the boy said. “‘Whenever the moon and stars are set, Whenever the wind is high, All night long in the dark and wet’—”

  “‘A man goes riding by,” Mel finished. “Robert Louis Stevenson…‘In the dark and wet,’” she said again. “I love those words. Who used to read to you? Your dad?”

  The boy shook his head.

  “Oh, your mom, then.”

  He shook his head again. “Leila. Leila read to me all the time.”

  “Oh.”

  Mel a
nd the boy looked out across the bay. On the mainland, lights twinkled here and there, some shining alone, some in friendly clusters.

  “So what have you been doing this summer?” Mel asked, remembering that the boy had said he’d been busy before he left for Fire Island.

  “Just working.”

  Mel nodded. She was incredibly glad that his work was finished.

  “You still haven’t told me very much about yourself,” the boy said, changing the subject. “I know about Dee and Timmy and Lacey, but not you.”

  Mel gave the boy a wry smile. “The first thing to know about me is that my name is Melanie Braderman. Everyone calls me Mel, though, except the woman who used to baby-sit for me, and she calls me Melly. No one else is allowed to.” Mel paused.

  The boy didn’t say anything.

  “So is your name a secret or what?” asked Mel. “I mean, do I have to guess it? You’re not Rumpelstiltskin, are you?”

  The boy laughed. “My name is Justin.”

  “Justin what? Justin Time?”

  “Justin Hart.” He was still laughing.

  “Well, anyway, Justin Hart, I’m fourteen and I’m going to be a freshman at Bronxville High School this fall. And I’m scared to death.”

  “Scared to death? Of what?”

  “Upperclassmen.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, for starters—Freshman Torture Day.”

  Justin looked shocked. “What,” he asked, “is Freshman Torture Day?”

  “To be honest,” said Mel, “I’m not positive it’s anything. Dee swears up and down that there’s no such thing. I’ve heard so many rumors, though. The kids in seventh and eighth grade are always telling stories about their older brothers and sisters coming home from their first day at BHS with big F’s written on their foreheads in red lipstick, and having to be the seniors’ slaves. Things like that.”

  “Well,” said Justin practically, “what happened to Dee on her first day at BHS?”

  “Nothing.”

  “See?”

  “No, it doesn’t prove a thing. Dee is gorgeous. Upper-class boys don’t want to torture her; they want to date her. I, on the other hand, am just the kind of person a sophomore boy would rather haze than kiss.”

  “Sweet sixteen and only been hazed?”

  Mel giggled. “Always a hazee, never a date.”

  They were both laughing.

  “I’m an upperclassman, and I wouldn’t want to haze you,” said Justin.

  Mel gulped. For some reason, she had assumed that she and Justin were the same age. “How old are you?”

  “Oh, old. As old as the hills.”

  “No, really.”

  “Fifteen,” replied Justin. “I’m going to be a great big menacing sophomore.”

  “Where do you go to school?” asked Mel.

  “It’s a private school,” Justin said vaguely.

  “Really? Is it Ethical Culture? That’s where Lacey goes.”

  “No, not Ethical Culture. You probably haven’t heard of it.”

  “Probably not,” agreed Mel.

  “Listen,” said Justin. “Would you like to walk to Watch Hill tomorrow evening?”

  “Sure!” replied Mel.

  “Great. I was thinking we could get ice cream or something at the restaurant there. And if we time it right, we could watch the sunset on the way.”

  “Oh, that sounds perfect.” Mel could hardly believe it! Justin Hart, the boy she had been spying on just that morning, was asking her for a date. Anyway, it was as close to a date as she had ever come.

  “Where should we meet?” asked Justin.

  “At the Casino?”

  “Okay. I’ll wait for you by the soda machines at seven o’clock.” Justin stood up. “I really should be getting back. I told Leila I wouldn’t be gone long, and I hate to make her worry.”

  “I should probably go, too.” Mel took one last look at the bay and got to her feet. She and Justin walked back along the dock. Justin, she noticed, was exactly as tall as she was. She matched her stride to his and walked just close enough to him so that their shoulders and elbows touched lightly.

  At the end of the dock they separated. “See you tomorrow!” Mel called.

  Justin grinned. “Seven o’clock!”

  Mel walked sedately along the boardwalk in front of the Harbor Store. After a few moments, she looked over her shoulder. Justin had already disappeared. Mel broke into a frantic run and tore home.

  “Mom! Mom!” she cried as she burst through the front door of Moonrise House.

  “Melanie? What is it?” Mrs. Braderman stepped out of the bedroom, looking worried.

  “It’s great news! Oh, I can’t believe it!” Mel collapsed on the couch, hugging herself with joy.

  “Well, what? Tell me.”

  Mel sat up and patted the couch next to her.

  Mrs. Braderman took a seat. “Do you want your father to hear this news, too?”

  “Sure,” replied Mel.

  “Honey!” Mrs. Braderman called. “Come here for a sec. Mel has some news.”

  Mel’s father joined them on the couch.

  “Okay, here goes I…,” said Mel, trying to drag out the suspense (her father looked at his watch), “have a date tomorrow night.”

  “A date? With a boy?” asked Mr. Braderman.

  “Of course with a boy.”

  “Honey, that’s wonderful,” said her mother. “Do we know this boy?”

  “No, not really. His name is Justin Hart. Oh, Mom, he’s so cute. And nice. I really like him.”

  “Where’s he taking you on the date?” her father wanted to know.

  “We’re going to walk to Watch Hill at sunset.”

  “Hmm. Are your mother and I going to meet him first?”

  “Probably not. He’s just going to wait for me in front of the Casino.”

  “Well…”

  “Dad, what is it?”

  “I’d kind of like to see what he’s like before you go off on a date with him. Where did you meet him?”

  “On the beach. I think he’s shy, Dad,” said Mel. “Besides, what are you worried about? We’ll walk through the wildlife preserve. A lot of people will be around at that hour. We won’t be alone for a second. I can go, can’t I? You’re not going to deprive me of my very first date…are you?”

  Mel’s parents looked at each other. They shrugged. “I don’t see why you can’t go,” her father said at last.

  Mel grinned. “Thanks, Dad.”

  Mrs. Braderman hugged her. “Honey, I’m so happy for you.”

  “Me, too,” said Mel. “I’m very happy for me.”

  Chapter Six

  “YOU KNOW,” SAID MEL, “it’s funny. Your first date is kind of like your birthday or a big holiday. You think about it and plan for it and dream about it, and then all of a sudden—boom, it happens. It’s right there. You think your birthday will never come—and suddenly it’s over.

  “I’ve been dreaming about getting asked out on a date ever since Dee started dreaming about it. And then last night Justin asks me, and now, in twenty minutes, it will start, and in a couple of hours it will be over. I can’t believe it.”

  “Mmm.”

  Mel glanced at Lacey, who was perched on the Bradermans’ deck railing. They’d been sitting on the deck for fifteen minutes, and, if “Mmm” counted as a word, then Lacey had spoken exactly two words since she’d come over. The other word had been “Hi.”

  “Is anything wrong?” Mel asked.

  Lacey shook her head. She was wearing an outfit Mel would have died for. It was a typical Lacey outfit—a hot-pink T-shirt under a cotton jumpsuit made from a wildflower print. Mel considered her own outfit, which was typically Mel. She was wearing baggy jeans, new sneakers, and a sweat shirt that said “If God had wanted me to cook, he wouldn’t have invented restaurants.”

  “Do you think I should change?” Mel asked Lacey.

  “Oh, could you?” asked a voice from inside the house. “Co
uld you change into a cow?”

  “Shut up, Timmy,” said Mel. “Lacey, really,” she went on. “This sweat shirt is funny, but maybe it’s not right for a first date. Could I borrow your other jumpsuit? The one with the star bursts all over it?”

  Lacey looked at her watch, then at Mel. “You don’t have time,” she replied. “Besides, you look fine.”

  “Not as good as you.”

  “Well, I don’t see what you’re worried about. You got a date, didn’t you?” Lacey snapped. “He met you in the dunes spying on his house with binoculars, carrying a bag with a hard-boiled egg in it, and wearing your most disgusting sweat shirt, and he still asked you to go to Watch Hill with him. What are you worried about?”

  Mel frowned at Lacey. “I don’t know…Are you sure nothing’s wrong?”

  “Positive.”

  “I know it’s Sunday, and we usually see our dads off on the ferry, but—well, look, I might get back in time to see them off anyway, if Justin and I don’t stay too long, and if our fathers take the late ferry—”

  “I said nothing was wrong.”

  “Okay, okay…Well, I guess I better go meet Justin.”

  Lacey slid off the railing. “Have fun,” she said, and ran down the Bradermans’ walk and up the next one to Starfish House.

  Mel watched her, puzzled. Then she stuck her head into her own house and called, “’Bye, everybody. I’m going.”

  “’Bye, sweetie. Have fun,” said her mother.

  “Come here and give me a kiss,” said her father. “I’ll be gone by the time you get back.”

  Mel ran inside. “Have a good week, Dad. See you Thursday.” Then she headed back out.

  Dee raised her eyebrows. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she said, grinning.

  Timmy didn’t say a word. He simply wrapped his arms around himself and made loud kissing noises.

  Mel stuck her tongue out at him and left the house. She jogged along the walks to the Casino, wondering and worrying every step of the way. Was she dressed properly? Was she supposed to pay for her own ice cream? (She’d brought some money, in case.) Would they find enough things to talk about?

  But as soon as she saw Justin leaning against a soda machine waiting for her, she knew she had no reason to worry.