I waved to get my dad’s attention as I jogged toward him. The blonde was nowhere to be seen. “What were you doing?” he asked, picking a twig from my hair.
“They invited me to join a class.” Maybe acting was something I could add to the list for Manning. I’d only been interested in it five minutes, but considering I had no clue what else to put on there, it was worth a try. “Maybe I’ll sign up for it as a freshman.”
“Which class?”
“Drama.”
He snorted and turned for the parking area. I hurried to keep up. “I never understood why that department was so important here. It’s silly, but I suppose not everyone can be gifted enough to do the things that really matter.”
That was as good of an opening as I was going to get. I scratched my head. “Um, Dad, you know . . . if drama’s a big deal here, they might like to see it on my application.”
“Possibly.”
“Maybe I could start looking into it now. Either at school or as, like, an extracurricular.”
“Hmm.” He put his hands in his pockets. “You do need to choose some electives next year. It could round out your schedule a bit.”
I didn’t know what to say other than “thanks.” It was rare to get what I wanted if it wasn’t his idea. Tiffany and my mom, on the other hand, got what they wanted frequently. Maybe he was finally starting to see me as an adult.
It was a win in my book.
8
Lake
Now this was what summer was all about.
At ten-thirty on the Thursday morning following our night at the fair, I lay on a beach towel on the south side of Huntington Pier with my friends. It was early, but beach real estate in August was valuable.
Normally, I applied a lot of sunscreen since I burned easily. Tanning was an art I had yet to perfect. Tiffany had my same complexion and she’d gotten it down to a science. She wanted to be tan three-hundred-and-sixty-five days a year. Tonight, though, Manning was coming over for dinner. He’d be at the house in about nine hours.
I applied sunscreen to my face and chest only. Vickie, on the towel next to mine, only used tanning oil. “Can I borrow some?” I asked when she’d finished with it.
She handed it over. “You missed a crazy party Saturday night.”
“I was there,” I said.
Mona, on the other side of Vickie, sat up on her elbows. She looked at me over her sunglasses. “You were not.”
“I was outside for a minute.” I squirted oil onto my legs, wedging my fingers under the elastic leg of my one-piece to even it out. “It didn’t look like much fun.”
“Are you kidding?” Vickie asked. “Everyone was there. We tried rum and played drinking games.”
Not everyone, I wanted to say. Corbin Swenson popped into my mind. I scanned the surfers bobbing on their boards in the water, but they were too far for me to recognize faces. “I went to Balboa Park,” I said. Since they looked up to my sister for some reason, I added, “With Tiffany. She says high school parties are lame.”
“Of course they are—to her,” Vickie said. “She’s not in high school.”
Mona drew her eyebrows together. “Maybe they are lame.”
“Oh, did you hear?” Vickie asked excitedly. “Kim left the party with Jack Firestone, and I guess they were sitting outside in his car for, like, ever.”
I gave Vickie back her oil, lay down on my towel, and picked up my book. I read two paragraphs before my mind wandered. Jack Firestone had graduated with Tiffany. Kim was my age. They’d probably had sex. I doubted nineteen-year-olds sat in parked cars with virgins.
As if the sun were a heat lamp directed at me, sweat beaded on my upper lip. I liked to think I was above sex, that I had more important things to worry about. That I’d have no trouble holding onto my virginity long after my friends had caved. But last night, I’d dreamed about Manning, about his big hands around my waist, and his dark, humorless eyes that sometimes weren’t so humorless around me. I’d woken up in the middle of the night and masturbated. I’d never done it thinking about someone I knew.
All morning, the thought of Manning had come with a tightening in my belly. And it wasn’t weird or bad or shameful. The opposite, actually. I liked it.
When water droplets fell onto my shins, I put down my book. Someone stood over me, silhouetted by the sun.
“Hey, girls.” I recognized Corbin’s voice. “What’s up, Lake?”
Vickie and Mona stayed quiet. I doubted either of them had ever spoken to a Swenson. I lowered my sunglasses. Corbin held a surfboard under one arm. “Hi,” I said.
“You see me out there?” he asked.
“I think so. I wasn’t sure which one you were.”
“The handsome one, obviously,” he said, peeling down the sleeves of his wetsuit. He pushed it down to his waist. Between surfing and baseball, sports had done him well. He wasn’t buff, but his muscles were cut, defined, and his skin golden-brown like his hair.
“What’re you guys up to?” he asked.
“Just this.” I waited for Vickie or Mona to jump in, but they just mutely stared at Corbin. “You?” I asked.