Summer of Seventeen Page 13

  I winced. I guess Julia hadn’t gotten around to telling him that newsflash. I was grateful, even if the reasons she’d kept it from him weren’t exactly unselfish. My guess was that she didn’t want to tell him that I’d fucked another girl at a party, in case it reminded him that she’d had a thing for Marcus, or made him think that cheating ran in the family. For all I knew, it did.

  “Yeah,” Julia said quietly. “Actually, they broke up.”

  Oh.

  “You’re kidding?” I could hear the disbelief in Ben’s voice. “I thought they were solid. It’s obvious he’s crazy about her.”

  “I know. He’s been so miserable since she dumped him.”

  I really hated that freakin’ word.

  “Wow. Poor Nicky. What happened?”

  God, I was so hoping he wouldn’t ask that.

  “I’m not really sure.” Thanks, sis. “But you know girls are always throwing themselves at Nicky. Thank God he’s totally oblivious half the time.”

  Huh?

  “Sounds like Nicky.”

  What girls? Other than Erin?

  There was another pause. “So … what are you going to do about your renter.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You could always ask him to leave.”

  Julia sighed. “We need the money.”

  “You’ll find someone else to rent the room…”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think so. I mean, the season’s already started and what if I couldn’t find someone? Besides, I don’t think Marcus plans on leaving town, so he’d still be around.”

  I knew that Julia had already had ‘the talk’ with Marcus and decided to let him stay, although it didn’t sound like she was admitting that to Ben. Basically, she’d told Marcus that he was a bad influence on me, encouraging me to drink, smoke, and treat women like shit.

  I only knew because he told me. He got a big ole laugh out of it, too.

  I’d gotten a version of the same talk direct from Julia—the whole, “Marcus isn’t someone you can rely on,” speech.

  Just because he turned her down.

  No matter what she said, I still thought that was what happened. But I was in no position to get all judgey on her ass. Or his.

  I wasn’t in any shape to criticize how other people lived their lives.

  The next time I saw Camille, she was screaming at my sister.

  Wait, let me back up.

  It was a night when I wasn’t working at the Sandbar. I was meeting up with Sean and we were going to make the most of a small swell at Jetty Park before hitting up some party that he’d heard about. Lacey was going to be there and he wanted to get laid. I’d already decided not to get shit-faced; no way I was going to let another situation like the one with Erin happen again.

  I was still texting Yansi every day, even though she never replied. But Ben was back with my sister, so maybe I’d get a second chance, too.

  Julia was in a good mood. She and Ben were going out on a date, which shocked the hell out of me because they never went out. Anyway, she’d gotten all dressed up and was hyper and excited. It was slightly unnerving seeing her like that, especially because she was wearing a short, clingy dress and a ton of makeup, but it was nice to see her happy for a change, too. She was even being pleasant to Marcus.

  He was in the kitchen cooking. Not heating shit up like Julia did, but actual cooking. I didn’t know he knew how. I could make eggs, so long as they were scrambled, and I could make pancakes from a packet mix. But he was chopping vegetables and even doing something with a bag of a mixed greens. I was impressed. He said it was because Camille was French so cooking mattered to her. I thought she was Italian because she said ‘Ciao’ but Marcus said everyone in Europe said that, even the Germans. I wasn’t sure I believed him, but that’s what he said.

  Julia was impressed, too. She couldn’t cook for shit.

  I was sitting in the backyard drinking a soda, waiting for Sean, while Julia was waiting for Ben to text her that he was outside.

  I pulled out my phone and sent my daily text to Yansi.

  * Miss you *

  I knew she wouldn’t answer, but it made me feel connected to her in some small way.

  Julia was ragging on Marcus, not in a mean way, but like they were friends. It was nice. Relaxing. It felt good having no tension in the house for once.

  “So who’s the lucky woman tonight?”

  “Camille.”

  I could hear Julia’s laugh float out through the open door.

  “Wow! The same one for over a week! Is that a record?”

  “Yep. Same girl. Have you got a bigger saucepan?”

  “In the other cabinet. So, Camille, huh? What does she do?”

  “She’s a nurse.”

  I could hear the surprise in Julia’s voice. “Oh! That’s … great.”

  There was a knock at the front door and Marcus went to answer it.

  I could hear Camille’s sexy accent down the hall.

  “I have brought wine—a Bordeaux. I thought we should certainly have good wine if you are cooking and the food is bad.”

  “Who says the food will be bad?”

  “You did. You said you can’t cook. And you’re American.”

  They walked into the kitchen where Julia was still waiting for Ben.

  “Who is this?” snapped Camille. “You live with a woman?” Her voice was outraged. “Who is this tramp?” And then she screamed several things in French.

  Marcus was surprisingly calm. If it had been me, I’d have been looking for a Kevlar vest.

  “No, I mean yes I live with her, but … this is Julia. She’s my landlady. I told you about her.”

  “Landladies are old women!” scoffed Camille. “She is not so old!”

  I badly wanted to laugh, but I wondered if Julia would let rip. I was amazed when she didn’t.

  “Honestly, Camille,” sniffed Julia as she checked her phone, “he’s all yours. Good luck with that—you’ll need it. Right, I’m out of here. I’m meeting Ben. My boyfriend. Have a nice evening.”

  The front door slammed, but the kitchen was silent.

  “Babe…”

  “She really is your landlady? You are not sleeping with her? I don’t share, Marcus. You know this. It is, how you say, a deal breaker for me.”

  I didn’t want to listen to their private conversation, so I coughed loudly before walking back into the kitchen.

  “Hi, Camille,” I muttered.

  Camille looked surprised then she gave me a small smile. “Ah, the little brother. Hello, Nick.”

  “Yeah, I’m out now, too.”

  “Party?” asked Marcus, grinning at me.

  “Yep, Sean’s giving me a ride.”

  “Have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Say hi to Erin.”

  He seemed to think that was funny as fuck, so I just nodded and left them standing in the kitchen.

  I didn’t have to wait long before Sean showed up. He was in a good mood and tossed his car keys to me.

  “You drive. I’m going to get the party started.”

  He cracked open a bottle of beer and scooted down into the passenger seat so he couldn’t be spotted by any passing cop cars.

  The guy having the party lived over in Palm Bay which was a 20 minute drive away. It was more the kind of place where people played golf than surfed. But Craig was one of the guys who hung out at the pier sometimes.

  The house was a large bungalow surrounded by vacant lots. It made it a good place to get rowdy, with no neighbors nearby. Cars were lined up and down the street, and I parked Sean’s so it wouldn’t get blocked in. I had to be at work for 12.00 the next day and I didn’t want some douche to have me stuck there all night. I already knew that Sean wouldn’t be driving home later, so either I had to stay sober or we were sleeping on the floor.

  The party was just getting warmed up when we walked in. I said hi to a few people and was getting a nice buzz from my second bottle of beer even though I
hadn’t planned on drinking. But then I saw the one person I had no interest in talking to.

  “Hi, Nick.”

  She stood too close and pulled the beer from my hand, taking a long drink before passing it back. I shook my head and folded my arms across my chest.

  “Can’t even share a drink with me, Nicky?”

  I sighed and leaned against the wall.

  “What do you want, Erin?”

  She shrugged. “Nothing. Just wondering how you are. I haven’t seen you around much. You don’t hang with us like you used to.”

  “I’ve been working.”

  “All work and no play makes Nick a dull boy.”

  And she wet her finger in her mouth, then tried to run it down my neck.

  “Jesus! What is it with you?” I snapped, pushing her hand away. “I thought we’d already had this conversation? I told you: I’m not interested!”

  She pouted and stood with her hands on her hips.

  “Just seeing if you changed your mind.”

  “Fuck’s sake, no! But thanks to you, neither has Yansi.”

  I tried to walk away but she caught my arm.

  “I didn’t tell her.”

  I shook her loose. “I know. But someone did. So whether you wanted to or not, you fucked things up for me.”

  “What’s so special about her anyway?”

  For once her tone wasn’t hostile, but resigned, almost weary.”

  I was going to brush her off, but she looked so sad. Like I said, I’m a sucker for girls’ tears.

  I wanted to give her an answer that would show her that I meant what I said—something that would make her back off once and for all.

  “Seeing her … talking to her … even getting a text message from her … it makes my day better.”

  Erin’s face fell as I pushed away through the crowd, snagging another bottle of beer as I went.

  I sat outside and chugged it back, trying to wipe the last few minutes from my mind. I probably needed bleach. Talking about Yansi hurt too much. I closed my eyes and leaned back.

  A bunch of people were jumping in the pool, guys canon-balling to splash water over the girls. I recognized one of them: Emma from the Sandbar. Her rose tattoo stood out. Only a few of the older guys had tats, but none of the girls. I wanted to get one but Mom would never let me. I guess I could do whatever I liked now, but it just didn’t seem important anymore.

  She must have recognized me because she came and sat next to me.

  “Hey, Nick. How’s it going?”

  “Yeah, good.”

  We sat in awkward silence for a moment. I was hyper-aware of a pretty girl sitting by my side in a wet bikini.

  I shifted uncomfortably and tried not to notice that her nipples were staring at me like a couple of car headlights.

  “Is Marcus here?” she asked at last.

  Oh fuck, yes! Distract me with words.

  “No.”

  More words, please!

  “Oh? You guys seem to be joined at the hip these days. Is he seeing his girlfriend?”

  I glanced across at her. She didn’t seem upset. Thank fuck for that. I couldn’t deal with two moody girls in one night.

  “I don’t know,” I said, lying through my teeth. “Maybe.”

  She smiled. “Oh, you think I care!” Then she laughed. “No, I can spot a player a mile away, although he seems to be really into that French girl. You’re more my type.”

  She grinned at my expression.

  “Don’t worry. I nearly peed myself when Marcus told me you were only 17—I’m definitely no cougar!”

  I didn’t know what to say to that. I didn’t even know how old she was: 21 or 22, maybe.

  She nudged my shoulder. “Don’t freak out.”

  “I’m not,” I mumbled, shaking my head and taking another long drink of my beer.

  She laughed loudly, causing several heads to turn in our direction.

  “You really are too cute for words. Enjoy the party, Nick.”

  As she sauntered away, I had to squeeze my eyes shut. That ass in that bikini.

  I was kind of mad at myself—it was Yansi that I wanted, not Emma. But my body wasn’t listening. Stupid fucker was the one who’d gotten me into this mess in the first place.

  I was so tempted to get trashed, but I didn’t. Sean tried to make me join in a game of beer pong but I waved him off and said I’d catch up later. I finished my beer, tossed the empty, and went to hunt down a game of pool.

  When I got there, Emma was bent over the pool table, her tight ass waving at me. Then she looked over her shoulder and winked.

  I spent the next two hours getting thrashed and losing horribly—sometimes I really thought God hated me. It was mutual.

  The box was a plastic crate, the kind that they sell at Walmart to put kids toys in. At least it had kept out the worst of the Florida humidity from where it was stored in Mom’s garage.

  I brushed off a decade of spider webs then carried it into the house, tipping the bundle of papers onto the kitchen table and started sorting through them.

  Julia had gone out with Ben—I don’t know where.

  Things seemed better between them … better even than before. Maybe they were both trying harder. It made me wonder what would happen if they decided to be roomies or get married.

  I guess it would be okay if Ben moved in; he practically lived here already. But if they got married, they wouldn’t want Julia’s little brother living with them. I didn’t know what that would mean for me, and the thought freaked me out.

  I sifted through the contents of the box, not certain what I was looking for.

  There were photographs from Julia’s high school graduation, old school reports, pictures of me with gap teeth grinning at the camera, old birthday cards, newspaper cuttings about Cocoa Beach and the year I won the Under-11s surf contest, and photos of Mom as a kid standing with people I guessed were her parents. They’d died before Julia was born, but that was all I knew. I wished now I’d asked Mom more about them. I didn’t even know their names.

  Most of the time I liked my English teacher, Mrs. Lord, but that crap she’d spouted about time being a great teacher—what a load of horseshit. Time was a crappy teacher, because it just reminded you of all the things you should have done, but couldn’t do fuck all about now.

  I almost missed the thin sheet of paper that had been folded into the size of a postcard.

  So that was his name, Robert Croften. Or maybe he was known as Bob Croften or Rob Croften. Did this mean that he knew about me after all? I wasn’t sure.

  It was the strangest feeling, seeing his name in black and white. I was part of some guy that I knew nothing about. Half of my DNA was his. Did I look like him? Did I act like him? Did we have any mannerisms that were the same? Maybe he surfed? Maybe I got my love of the ocean from him? Maybe I was left-handed because he was?

  And maybe it didn’t matter because he didn’t give a fuck about me.

  If Julia moved out, I’d be completely alone. What if she wanted me to move out? Where would I go?

  Suddenly, all her irritating habits didn’t seem so bad.

  I shoved the papers into a pile with the birth certificate on top.

  I rested my head in my hands, trying not to think about Bob Croften who had a son that he’d never seen.

  “Hi.”

  My head shot up, wondering if I’d imagined her voice.

  My jaw dropped open when I saw Yansi standing there, and my throat began to burn.

  “What … what are you doing here?”

  “I was walking over here to see you and … I bumped into Julia and Ben. She said you were in, so…” She hesitated. “But I can go…”

  “No! Fuck, no! Please don’t go. Just ... stay, please.”

  She nodded jerkily and fiddled with the strap of her purse, before pulling out one of the battered kitchen chairs and sitting down.

  She stared at the table and I knew I should say something, but I couldn’t think
of a single damn word.

  “So,” she said at last. “You look … good.”

  I blinked rapidly before managing to choke out a reply.

  “Thanks. You, too.”

  And she did, she really did. I hadn’t seen her for two-and-a-half weeks, so she could have worn a sack and she’d look hot to me. But she was wearing a pale pink tank-top and short jean skirt, and her hair was loose, falling in thick, silky strands that I wanted to wrap around my hands while I kissed her. But I couldn’t: I didn’t have that right. Not anymore.

  But now I looked more closely, her eyes were tired, dark rings only partially hidden with makeup.

  She bit her lip and glanced toward the door, as if she was thinking of leaving.

  “Um,” I said, beginning to panic. “Can I get you a soda or a water or something?”

  “Can I have a water, please?”

  “Sure! Sure!”

  I leapt to my feet, relieved to have something to do.

  We couldn’t afford bottled water, so it had to be from the tap, and it wasn’t very cold. I handed her the glass and shoved my hands in my pockets.

  She took a sip and put the glass down. I don’t think she really wanted a drink; she was probably just being polite.

  One of the things I’d always loved about me and Yans was that we could talk about anything. But not now. It was awkward and embarrassing and I had no fucking clue what to do to make it any better.

  She glanced up at me and smiled weakly.

  “Are you going to sit down?” she asked, squinting at the chair I’d been sitting in.

  I slid into it, cringing as the legs scraped across the floor tiles too loudly.

  “So, this is … strange,” she whispered.

  “Um, yeah,” I agreed, running my hands through my hair nervously.

  “How’ve you been?”

  Shit without you. “Okay, I guess. You?”

  She sighed. “I’ve been better.”

  Me, too.

  “I’m sorry,” I said helplessly. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”

  She nodded as her lips twisted to the side. “I know.” Then she looked up. “Erin came to see me.”

  I was so surprised, my eyebrows shot up and my mouth dropped open, but no words came out.

  Yansi smiled faintly. “Yeah, that was about my reaction.”