Tan Lines: Sand, Surf, and Secrets / Rays, Romance, and Rivalry / Beaches, Boys, and Betrayal, Page 4

  On the kitchen table, the little yellow Post-it note sat like an accusation. Her aunt Mallory’s scribbled, cryptic message was barely legible. When Summer had found it that afternoon after the graduation ceremony, it had taken her a minute to decipher her aunt’s shorthand: Austin cld. Cn’t wat 2 C U. No #. She was grateful, at least, that Aunt Mallory hadn’t made an issue of it in front of Diana and Marquez.

  It was too bad Austin hadn’t left a number. It would have given Summer a chance to warn him off, to announce her engagement and send him on his way. Now she was stuck with this feeling of foreboding, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  She rifled through her ramshackle dresser, trying to locate her khaki shorts. In her new place, maybe she could have an actual closet of her own.

  Suddenly she heard a gentle, tentative voice outside the open window.

  “Hey, guy. Did you think I forgot you? Look, Frank. I scarfed you some anchovies.”

  Summer closed her eyes. Diver. Only he could be standing on her walkway, chatting with a pelican.

  She crouched behind her dresser. Maybe he didn’t know she was there. Maybe she could keep it that way.

  “I’ll bet you’re glad Summer’s back, huh, Frank?”

  From her position on the floor, she could just make out Diver’s silhouette against the velvety purple sky. He had his back to the railing. His jacket was gone, and his tie hung loosely around his neck. He might or might not have been looking into her window. She couldn’t be sure.

  “We had a lot of good times here,” Diver mused. Summer wondered whether he was talking to himself, to Frank, or to her. “Remember sitting on the roof, you and me and Summer, watching the sun come up? The whole sky was on fire.”

  Summer did remember. She remembered the way they’d sat together in silence, awed and humbled, like two lone visitors in the world’s largest cathedral. Diver had been a mystery to her then, just as he still was.

  “I miss this place,” Diver said, almost whispering. He was peering through the window. “I miss you, too. And Summer. I miss her a lot.”

  Summer stifled a sob.

  “I guess she’s kind of mad at me. Not that I blame her.”

  Another sob, this one audible.

  “Maybe if we could talk,” Diver said. “Maybe I could explain.”

  Summer sniffled.

  The door creaked. She saw two tan bare feet sticking out of black pants. She looked up.

  Diver stood there in the shadows. His hand was out. He was holding a handkerchief.

  Summer took it and blew her nose. She sniffled again.

  Diver turned on the kitchen light, then straddled a chair.

  She started to give the handkerchief back.

  “It’s Jack’s. He gave it to me when he bought the suit.” Summer sat very still on the floor, her back against the dresser. She looked at the handkerchief. In the glare of the overhead light, the white linen almost glowed. Her throat felt as though she’d swallowed gravel.

  “Mom got a divorce lawyer,” she said, twisting the handkerchief in her hands. She didn’t look at Diver.

  She waited for him to say “It’s not my fault” or “So what?” She had answers for those words. She’d practiced them in her mind, all the angry things she would say to Diver when she finally had the chance.

  “Because of me,” he whispered. It wasn’t a question. It was a statement of fact.

  Summer looked up. Diver’s face was expressionless.

  “Why didn’t you—” She choked back a sob. “Why didn’t you stay, Diver? Why didn’t you try a little harder to belong? The rest of us wanted so badly to make it work.”

  “Because I didn’t,” Diver said. “Belong. Because…” He opened his hands, palms up, as if he expected the right words to fall into them. “I knew I wasn’t going to stay. I figured it was better to leave sooner rather than later. I didn’t want you all getting more…attached.”

  “Attached?” Summer cried. “Attached? You’re not some stray dog we picked up off the street. You’re my brother, you’re their son. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

  Her voice echoed in the little room. Diver folded his hands together. He thought for a long time. “I didn’t have your life, Summer. To me, Jack and Kim are just nice people. I grew up with other, not-so-great parents. I didn’t have your perfect life.”

  “Do you have any idea what it did to Mom and Dad to lose you? And then to…to find you again, to have you back in their lives, and then to have you just vanish again? You leave a note on my bed that says ‘I’m sorry,’ like that somehow evens the score?”

  Summer realized her hands were shaking. She climbed to her feet, pacing back and forth to use up the wild energy fueling her anger. “After you left, it was nothing but Mom blaming Dad and Dad blaming Mom for not handling you better. Then it was like they got tired and gave up. Well, I blame you, Diver. It wasn’t because Dad pushed you to get a job and Mom bugged you to cut your hair. It was you.”

  She dropped onto her bed and bent over, burying her head in her hands.

  After a moment Diver joined her. He touched her hair, then pulled his hand away. “It wasn’t just the job, Summer,” he said softly. “It was other things. They wanted me to tell them who my other parents were.”

  “You mean your kidnappers.”

  “I was only two, Summer. They were my parents to me.” He sighed. “Jack and Kim wanted to press charges, to prosecute them.”

  Summer wiped her eyes. “And you have a problem with that?”

  “I want to let it go.”

  “You want to let everything go, Diver. You just want to escape. You can’t live your whole life that way.”

  Diver stood. “I guess it’s the only way I know how.”

  He turned to leave. At the door he paused. “Keep the handkerchief. It’s more yours than mine.”

  On the walkway, Summer heard him stop to talk to Frank, but she was sobbing too hard to hear what he said.

  7

  Up on the Roof

  Summer awoke the next morning before dawn. She put on shorts and her blue and gold Property of Bloomington H.S. Athletic Dept. T-shirt and made herself a cup of herbal tea.

  The air outside was cool and wet. The sun was just a secret, glowing on the horizon. Waves lazily stroked the stilts beneath the house.

  Summer climbed up the ladder that led to the roof, the way she had the year before with Diver. The shingles were rough on her skin, like cats’ tongues. She sat very still. Now and then she sipped her tea. But mostly she just sat and waited.

  With Diver the previous summer, watching the dawn unfurl had been a wonderful moment. Spiritual, almost. They had shared something too big for words.

  She wished it had gone better with him the night before. She didn’t regret what she’d said. In fact, she’d been relieved to finally cut loose and drop her anger at his feet. Maybe Marquez was right. Sometimes it did help to just go ahead and be angry, instead of tying your feelings up in polite little packages with pretty ribbons, the way Summer had learned to do.

  But now she was left with a gaping hole where the anger had been. She felt diminished. Smaller than before. Watching Diver walk away, his shoulders sagging, she’d felt awful.

  But what could she do? Pretend he hadn’t failed her family? Pretend he hadn’t hurt her?

  She heard footsteps on the dock, and her pulse quickened. She hoped it was Diver, then instantly regretted hoping. Slowly a figure materialized in the gray haze.

  It definitely wasn’t Diver.

  “I come bearing the gift of muffins.”

  It was Austin, holding up a white paper bag. Summer’s heart fluttered.

  He looked pretty much the way he had when she’d first met him on her flight to Florida over spring break: tattered denim jacket, worn jeans, a couple of tiny silver hoops in one ear. He had submitted to a haircut, she could tell, but his dark brown hair was still operating by its own rules. He hadn’t shaved in at least a week, though his faded T-shir
t was wrinkle-free, a concession, she supposed, to her.

  Austin was not the kind of guy you’d bring home to Mom. If Mom was feeling charitable, she might see a sensitive, tortured, down-at-the-heels poet. If she wasn’t, she’d see her worst nightmare, the boy who was going to corrupt her innocent daughter and leave her brokenhearted.

  “Austin.” It was all Summer could think of to say.

  He stood on the deck below her, gazing up in rapture as if he were having a religious moment.

  “When I remembered your being this beautiful,” he said, “I told myself I was crazy, no girl was that perfect. Now I see I was right all along.” He grinned broadly. “Of course, when I imagined you, you were generally in a house, not on one. But what’s a preposition in the grand scheme of things? May I come up?”

  Summer gave a small nod. Austin tossed her the bag of muffins. They were still warm. She did not like what she was feeling—tingling skin and liquid bones and a stomach freed from gravity, the kinds of symptoms generally associated with the early stages of the flu. The symptoms she remembered from her early days with Seth.

  They were not feelings she wanted to be having. She told herself to stop having them.

  She was not listening.

  Austin crawled across the roof and settled next to her. The spot where his shoulder was touching hers burned.

  “So,” he said. “We meet again.”

  Summer hugged her knees and nodded.

  “You haven’t gone mute in the meantime?”

  She shook her head. Her voice was lodged in her throat like a piece of hard candy. She didn’t dare try it.

  Austin turned to look at her. She could smell his shampoo, or his aftershave, or his deodorant—something, anyway, that was lime-scented and exotic.

  “You got my messages?” he asked.

  Summer nodded.

  “And my letter?”

  Another nod, this one conveying regret and annoyance, she hoped.

  “And would it be out of line to wonder if you’d give me a hello kiss?”

  This time the nod was vehement.

  “I see.”

  She’d forgotten how compelling his voice was, how full of wild promises.

  “Well, can you at least hand me the muffins?”

  Summer did. Austin took one out. The fragrance of blueberries wafted through the air.

  A coppery halo glowed on the horizon. Summer fixed her gaze on it. She practiced the words in her mind like lines in a play.

  “I’m glad you’re okay,” she said at last.

  This time it was Austin who didn’t speak.

  “I thought you were afraid to take the test,” Summer said.

  Austin stared at his muffin, a bemused look on his face. “I was. Scared like I’ve never been scared.”

  “What made you change your mind?”

  “Something you said, actually.”

  “Me?”

  Austin touched the back of her hand with his fingertips. “You asked what if I went through life assuming I was going to get my dad’s disease, and it turned out I was wrong? Afraid to get involved with anyone, afraid to take the chance. It would just be so ironic. So I had the genetic testing done after all.” Austin gazed out at the drowsy ocean. “And lo and behold, the gods smiled on me.”

  “What did your family say?”

  “My mom was thrilled, my dad…well, he’s too out of it to really understand, I’m afraid. My brother—”

  “The one who tested positive for the gene?”

  Austin nodded. “Yeah. He was really glad for me, but I could tell he was thinking, ‘Why me and not him?’ Which was pretty much what I was thinking. Life doesn’t make a whole lot of sense sometimes.” He turned to face her. “But that’s something I’m starting to realize, Summer. Life doesn’t always make a whole lot of sense. Sometimes we don’t know exactly why we do what we do.” He took her hand, but she slipped out of his grasp. “Which is why I’ve moved to the Keys.”

  Summer blinked. “You’ve moved to the Keys,” she repeated very slowly, as if she were just learning English.

  “I got a job waiting tables over on Coconut Key. You know, a little ways up the coast?”

  Summer knew. It was one of the places Diana and Marquez wanted to go apartment hunting.

  “Why are you doing this, Austin? Moving here, following me? You run off at spring break and tell me to have a nice life. You leave without any explanation—”

  “Actually, I left a very articulate note,” Austin interrupted. “Not to mention the photos from our Disney World trip.”

  “Without any explanation,” Summer persisted, “and I get my life back together with Seth, and now you show up and go, ‘Hey, by the way, my genes are okay, and I’ve decided to move in next door’?” She held out her left hand. The little diamond caught the faint pink morning rays. “Do you know what this is?”

  “Cubic zirconia?”

  “It’s an engagement ring, Austin. Seth and I are engaged. Do you know what that means?”

  “Um…I’m guessing I’m probably not invited to the bachelor party?”

  Summer didn’t smile.

  Austin sighed. “I saw the ring right away, Summer, and yes, I know what it means. I just don’t happen to care. Jewelry as an expression of commitment does not impress me. Besides, one thing a brush with mortality teaches you is to live for today.”

  “Carpe diem,” Summer said. “I remember.”

  He flashed her one of his most charming smiles. “Anyway, I happen to like it here. You’ve got sun and ocean and pelicans”—he gestured at Frank—“and I’ve got a job I can stand, and a not-too-bad apartment, except for the roaches you can saddle up and ride. Even without you, it’s a nice place to be.” He took her hand, covering the ring, and this time he wouldn’t let go. “Of course, with you it would be perfect.”

  “There won’t be any me.”

  “That’s what you said on the Skyway to Tomorrowland at Disney World, and then you kissed me like I’ve never been kissed before.”

  “You must have had very limited kissing experience.”

  Austin leaned a little closer. “As it happens, I’ve had a lot of experience.”

  His lips were so close. The guilt and the recriminations evaporated. Even thoughts of Seth evaporated. All she felt was a terrific pull, as though she were a speck of steel and a million magnets were tugging her closer and closer.

  “Just one kiss,” Austin whispered, “for old times’ sake.”

  Summer closed her eyes to the rosy horizon and Austin’s dark gaze. She could feel her pulse throbbing through her temple like a marching band.

  If she stopped thinking and just felt the pull, guiding her closer, it felt so sweet. It felt so good, so right, if she just didn’t think….

  8

  I Think We Have a Really Bad Connection….

  “You still there, Seth?” Diana asked as she headed toward the stilt house, phone in hand.

  “I’m here.”

  “Sorry, I slipped and almost dropped the phone. The grass on the lawn is really wet.”

  She made her way down the sloping lawn. The dawn light cast long shadows. The yard was filled with the remains of Marquez’s party: crumpled napkins, overflowing trash barrels, a discarded T-shirt, a pair of sandals, a handful of wet crackers.

  “We had a great party last night,” Diana said. “Really crazy. Wish you could have been here.”

  “Me, too,” Seth said. His voice was fuzzy. The connection was pretty bad.

  “What time is it there, anyway?” Diana asked.

  “Way too early,” Seth said. “I couldn’t sleep.”

  “How come you’re calling? Is anything wrong?”

  “No…I just, you know, wanted to tell Summer hi and stuff. You know.”

  And stuff. “Yeah, I know.” Diana’s grip tightened on the phone.

  “She doing okay? Summer, I mean?”

  Diana stopped suddenly as the sloping roof of the stilt house came into vie
w.

  Well, well. What an interesting sight this was. Her little cousin on the roof, in what appeared to be a very passionate embrace with Austin Reed.

  “Diana?” Seth’s voice was tinny and indistinct.

  Diana put the receiver to her ear. “Yeah?”

  “I said is Summer doing okay?”

  “Oh, yeah. I’d say she’s doing just fine, Seth. You don’t have to worry about Summer. She can take care of herself.”

  She took a few steps onto the walkway that led to the stilt house, then held up the phone. “Summer!” she called.

  Diana watched with grim satisfaction as Summer and Austin disentangled frantically.

  “Diana?” Summer yelled back. “Did you want something?”

  “It’s Seth,” Diana waved the phone.

  Summer’s mouth dropped open. Austin rolled his eyes. After a moment he climbed down off the roof, then helped Summer down. When he reached for her waist, she pushed his hands away irritably.

  Diana sauntered down the walkway. She could see Summer working up an excuse, a logical explanation for why she happened to be playing tonsil hockey with someone other than her fiancé.

  “Just a sec, Seth,” Diana said. “Summer’s a little busy.”

  There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Diana?” Seth said at last. “I never really got a chance to thank you for straightening me out over spring break. I was so angry about seeing Summer with Austin that I guess I couldn’t see the forest for the trees, you know? You were right. I couldn’t exactly get all irate when you and I had done the same…well, anyway, thanks.”

  “Sure,” Diana said softly as she neared the stilt house. “Anytime. I’m a regular marriage counselor. Oh. I almost forgot.” She paused in front of a stricken-looking Summer. “Congratulations on your engagement. I’m sure you two will be very happy.”

  With a knowing smile, Diana passed the phone to Summer. Austin’s face was impassive, but Summer looked so terrified and confused that Diana almost felt sorry for her.

  Almost.

  Diana turned on her heel and headed back to the main house. Summer’s too-animated voice chirped away like the birds in the trees.