Текст книги "The Summer I Turned Pretty"

Автор книги: Jenny Han

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 13 страниц)

chapter thirty – five

Around sunset, Cam came and picked me up for mini golf. I waited for him on the front porch, and when he pulled into the driveway, I ran up to his car. Instead of going to the passenger side, I walked right around to the driver's side. "Can I drive?" I asked. I knew he'd say yes.

He shook his head at me and said, dryly, "How does anybody ever say no to you?"

I batted my eyelashes at him. "No one ever does," I said, even though it wasn't true, not even a little bit.

I opened the car door, and he scooted over.

Backing out of the driveway, I told him, "I have to be home early tonight."

"No problem." He cleared his throat. "And, um, can you slow down a little? The speed limit is thirty-five on this road."

As I drove, he kept looking over at me and smiling. "What? Why are you smiling?" I asked. I felt like covering my face up with my T-shirt.

"Instead of a ski-slope nose, you have, like, a little bunny slope." He reached over and tapped it. I slapped his hand away.

"I hate my nose," I told him.

Cam looked perplexed. "Why? Your nose is cute. It's the imperfections that make things beautiful."

I wondered if that meant he thought I was beautiful. I wondered if that was why he liked me, my imperfections.

We ended up staying out later than I'd planned. The people in front of us took forever on each hole; they were a couple, and they kept stopping to kiss. It was annoying. I wanted to tell them, Mini golf is not where you go to hook up. That's what the drive-in's for. And then after, Cam was hungry, so we stopped for fried clams, and by that time it was after ten, and I knew my mother and Susannah would already be asleep.

He let me drive home. I didn't even have to ask; he just handed me the keys. In the driveway when we got home, I turned off the ignition. All of the lights in the house were off except for Conrad's. "I don't want to go inside yet," I told Cam.

"I thought you had to be home early."

"I did. I do. I'm just not ready to go inside yet." I turned on the radio, and we sat there for five minutes listening.

Then Cam cleared his throat and said, "Can I kiss you?"

I wished he hadn't asked. I wished he'd just done it. Asking made everything feel awkward; it put me in a position where I had to say yes. I wanted to roll my eyes at him but instead I said, "Um, okay. But next time, please don't ask. Asking someone if they want to kiss you is weird. You're supposed to just do it."

I regretted saying it right away, as soon as I saw the look on Cam's face. "Never mind," he said, red-faced. "Forget I asked."

"Cam, I'm sorr–" Before I could finish, he leaned over and kissed me. His cheek was stubbly and it felt kind of rough but nice.

When it was over, he said, "Okay?"

I smiled and said, "Okay." I unbuckled my seat belt. "Good night."

Then I got out of the car, and he came around and took the driver's seat. We hugged, and I found myself wishing that Conrad was watching. Even though it didn't matter, even though I didn't even like him anymore. I just wanted him to know I didn't like him anymore, to really know it. To see it with his own two eyes.

I ran up to the front door, and I didn't have to turn around to know that Cam would wait until I was inside before he drove away.

The next day my mother didn't mention anything, but she didn't have to. She could make me feel guilty without saying a word.

Chapter thirty – six

My birthday always marked the beginning of the end of summer. It was my final thing to look forward to. And this summer I was turning sixteen. Sweet sixteen was supposed to be special, a really big deal–Taylor was renting out a reception hall for hers, and her cousin was DJ-ing and she was inviting the whole school. She'd had it planned for ages. My birthdays here were always the same: cake; gag gifts from the boys; and looking through all the old photo albums, with me sandwiched between Susannah and my mom on the couch. Every birthday I've ever had has been here, in this house. There are pictures of my mother sitting on the porch pregnant, with a glass of iced tea and a wide brimmed hat, and there's me, inside her belly. There are pictures of the four of us, Conrad, Steven, Jeremiah, and me, running around on the beach–I was naked except for my birthday hat, chasing after them. My mother didn't put me in a bathing suit until I was four years old. She just let me run around wild.

I didn't expect this birthday to be any different. Which, was comforting and also kind of depressing. Except, Steven wouldn't be there–my first birthday without him trying to elbow in and blow out my candles before I could.

I already knew what my parents were giving me: Steven's old car; they were getting it detailed with a new paint job and everything. When I got back to school, I would take driver's ed, and soon I wouldn't have to ask for a ride ever again.

I couldn't help but wonder if anyone back home remembered it was my birthday. Besides Taylor. She remembered; she always did. She called me at exactly 9:02 in the morning to sing happy birthday, every year. That was nice and all, but the trouble with having a summer birthday and being away was you couldn't have a party with all your school friends. You didn't get the balloons taped to your locker or any of it. I'd never really minded, but just then I did, a little.

My mother told me I could invite Cam over. But I didn't. I didn't even tell him it was my birthday. I didn't want him to feel like he had to do something. But it was more than that. I figured that if this birthday was going to be like every other one, I might as well really have it be like every other one. It should just be us, my summer family.

When I woke up that morning, the house smelled like butter and sugar. Susannah had baked a birthday cake. It was three layers and it was pink with a white border. She wrote in loopy white frosting happy birthday, bells . She'd lit a few sparkler candles on top, and they sizzled and sparked like mad fireflies. She and my mother started to sing, and Susannah gestured for Conrad and Jeremiah to join in. They both did, off-key and obnoxious.

"Make a wish, Belly," my mother said.

I was still in my pajamas, and I couldn't stop smiling. The past four birthdays I had wished for the same thing. Not this year. This year I would wish for something else. I watched the sparklers die down, and then I closed my eyes and blew.

"Open my present first," Susannah urged. She thrust a small box wrapped in pink paper into my hands.

My mother looked at her questioningly. "What did you do, Beck?"

She smiled a mysterious smile and squeezed my wrist. "Open it, honey."

I ripped the paper off and opened the box. It was a pearl necklace, a whole strand of tiny creamy white pearls with a shiny gold clasp. It looked old, not like something you could buy today. It was like my fathers Swiss grandfather clock, beautifully crafted, right down to the clasp. It was the prettiest thing I'd ever seen.

"Oh my gosh," I breathed, lifting it up.

I looked at Susannah, who was beaming, and then at my mother, who I thought would say it was much too extravagant, but she didn't. She smiled and said, "Are those–"

"Yes." Susannah turned to me and said, "My father gave me those for my sixteenth birthday. I want you to have them."

"Really?" I looked back at my mother, to make sure it was okay. She nodded. "Wow, thank you, Susannah. They're beautiful."

She took them from me and fastened them around my neck. I'd never worn pearls before. I couldn't stop touching them.

Susannah clapped her hands. She didn't like to linger too much after she'd given a gift; she just enjoyed the giving of it. "Okay, what's next? Jeremiah? Con?"

Conrad shifted uncomfortably. "I forgot. Sorry, Belly."

I blinked. He'd never forgotten my birthday before. "That's okay," I said. I couldn't even look at him.

"Open mine next," Jeremiah said. "Although, after that, mine kind of sucks in comparison. Thanks a lot, Mom." He handed me a small box and leaned back in his chair.

I shook the box. "Okay, what could it be? Plastic poop? A license plate key chain?"

He smiled. "You'll see. Yolie helped me pick it out." "Who's Yolie?" Susannah asked.

"A girl who's in love with Jeremiah," I said, opening the box.

Inside, nestled on a bed of cotton, was a small charm, a tiny silver key.

Chapter thirty – seven

AGE II

"Happy birthday, butthead," Steven sang, dumping a pail full of sand into my lap. A sand crab wriggled out of the sand and crawled onto my thigh. I let out a shriek and jumped up. I chased Steven down the beach, white hot fury pumping through my veins. I wasn't fast enough to catch him; I never was. He ran circles around me.

"Come and blow out your candles," my mother called.

As soon as Steven turned around to head back to the towel, I leapt onto his back and with one arm around his neck, I pulled his hair as hard as I could.

"Ow!" he howled, stumbling. I clung to his back like a monkey, even with Jeremiah grabbing my foot and trying to pull me off. Conrad fell to his knees, laughing.

"Children," Susannah called. "There's cake!" I hopped off of Steven's back and scrambled over to the blanket.

"I'm gonna get you!" he yelled, chasing after me.

I hid behind my mother. "You can't. It's my birthday." I stuck my tongue out at him. The boys fell onto the blanket, wet and sandy.

"Mom," Steven complained. "She pulled out a hunk of my hair."

"Steven, you have a whole head full. I wouldn't worry about it." My mother lit the candles on the cake she'd baked that morning. It was a lopsided Duncan Hines yellow cake with chocolate frosting. She had messy handwriting, so "Happy Birthday" looked like "Happy Bimday."

I blew out the candles before Steven could try to "help" me. I didn't want him stealing my wish. I wished for Conrad, of course.

"Open your presents, Smelly," Steven said sullenly. I already knew what he'd gotten me. A stick of deodorant. He'd wrapped it in Kleenex; I could see right through the tissue.

I ignored him and reached for a small flat box wrapped in seashell paper. It was from Susannah, so I knew it would be good. I tore off the wrapping paper, and inside there was a silver charm bracelet, from the store Susannah loved, Rheingold's, where they sold fancy china and crystal candy dishes. On the bracelet there were five charms: a conch shell, a bathing suit, a sand castle, a pair of sunglasses, and a horseshoe.

"For how lucky we are to have you in our lives," Susannah said, touching the horseshoe.

I lifted it up, and the charms glinted and sparkled in the sunlight. "I love it."

My mother was silent. I knew what she was thinking. She was thinking that Susannah had overdone it, that she'd spent too much money. I felt guilty for loving the bracelet so much. My mother had bought me sheet music and CDs. We didn't have as much money as they did, and in that moment I finally understood what that meant.

chapter thirty – eight

"I love it," I said.

I ran upstairs to my room and went straight for the music box on my dresser, where I kept my charm bracelet. I grabbed the bracelet and ran back downstairs.

"See?" I said, putting the key charm on and fastening it onto my wrist.

"It's a key, because you'll be driving soon. Get it?" Jeremiah said, leaning back in his chair and clasping his hands behind his head.

I got it. I smiled to show him I did.

Conrad leaned in for a closer look. "Nice," he said.

I held it in the palm of my other hand. I couldn't stop looking at it. "I love it," I said again. "But it's from Rheingold's. It must have been really expensive."

"I saved up all summer to buy it," he said solemnly. I stared at him. "No, you didn't!" He broke into a smile. "Fooled ya. Gullible as ever, aren't you?"

Punching him on the arm, I said, "I didn't believe you anyway, jerk." Even though I had, for a second.

Jeremiah rubbed his arm where I'd punched it. "It wasn't that expensive. Anyway, I'm big-time now, remember? Don't worry about me. I'm just glad you like it. Yolie said you would."

I hugged him fiercely. "It's perfect."

"What a wonderful gift, Jere," Susannah said. "It's better than my old necklace, that's for sure."

He laughed. "Yeah, right," he said, but I could tell he was pleased.

My mother got up and started cutting the cake. She wasn't a very good cake cutter: The pieces were too big, and they fell apart on the sides. "Who wants cake?" she said, licking her finger.

"I'm not hungry," Conrad said abruptly. He stood up, looking at his watch. "I've gotta get dressed for work. Happy birthday, Belly."

He went upstairs, and nobody said anything for a minute. Then my mother said, loudly, "This cake is delicious. Have some, Beck." She pushed a piece in front of her.

Smiling faintly, Susannah said, "I'm not hungry either.

You know what they say about the cook not having taste for her own cooking. But you guys eat."

I took a big bite. "Mmm. Yellow cake, my favorite."

"From scratch," my mother said.

chapter thirty – nine

Conrad invited Nicole, Red Sox girl, over to the house. Our house. I couldn't believe Red Sox girl was at our house. It was bizarre to have a girl there other than me.

It was midafternoon. I was out on the deck, sitting at the patio table, eating a Doritos sandwich when they drove up. She was wearing short shorts and a white T-shirt, and a pair of sunglasses on top of her head. The Red Sox hat was nowhere in sight. She looked chic. She looked like she belonged. Unlike me, in my old Cuz Beach shirt that doubled as a pajama dress. I thought he'd at least bring her inside the house, but they hung out on the other side of the deck, lying on the lounge chairs. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but I could hear her giggling like crazy.

After about five minutes I couldn't take it anymore. I got on the phone and called Cam. He said he'd be over in half an hour, but it was more like fifteen minutes.

They walked back into the house when Cam and I were arguing over which movie to watch. "What are you guys gonna watch?" Conrad asked, sitting on the couch opposite us. Red Sox girl sat next to him. She was practically in his lap.

I didn't look at him when I said, "We're trying to decide." Emphasis on the "we're."

"Can we watch too?" Conrad asked. "You guys know Nicole, right?"

So, suddenly Conrad felt like being social when he'd spent the whole summer locked up in his room?

"Hey," she said in a bored tone.

"Hey," I said, matching her tone as best I could.

"Hey, Nicole," Cam said. I wanted to tell him not to be so friendly, but I knew he wouldn't have listened anyway. "I want to watch Reservoir Dogs , but Belly wants to watch Titanic."

"Seriously?" the girl said, and Conrad laughed.

"Belly loves Titanic," he said mockingly.

"I loved it when I was, like, nine," I said. "I want to watch right now so I can laugh at it, for your information."

I was as cool as a cucumber. I wasn't going to let him goad me in front of Cam again. And actually, I still loved Titanic. What wasn't to love about a doomed romance on a doomed ship? I knew for a fact that Conrad had liked it too, even though he'd pretended not to.

"I vote for Reservoir Dogs" Nicole said, examining her fingernails.

Did she even get a vote? What was she doing there anyway?

"Two votes for Reservoir Dogs " Cam said. "What about you, Conrad?"

"I think I'll vote for Titanic" he said blandly. "Reservoir Dogs sucks even harder than Titanic. It's overrated."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "You know what? I think I'll change my vote to Reservoir Dogs. So it looks like you're outnumbered, Conrad," I said.

Nicole looked up from her fingernails and said, "Well, then, I change my vote to Titanic."

"Who are you?" I muttered under my breath. "Does she even get voting privileges here?"

"Does he?" Conrad jerked his elbow at Cam, who looked startled. "Just kidding, man."

"Let's just watch Titanic" Cam said, taking the DVD out of its case.

We sat and watched stiffly. Everyone else busted up laughing at the part when Jack stands at the helm and says, "I'm the king of the world." I was silent. About midway through, Nicole whispered something into Conrad's ear, and the two of them stood up. "See you guys later," Conrad said.

As soon as they were gone, I hissed, "They're so disgusting. They probably went upstairs to go at it."

"Go at it? Who says 'go at it'?" Cam said, bemused.

"Shut up. Don't you think she was gross?"

"Gross? No. I think she's cute. A little too much bronzer, maybe."

I laughed in spite of myself. "Bronzer? What do you know about bronzer?"

"I have an older sister, remember," he said, smiling self-consciously. "She likes makeup. We share a bathroom."

I didn't remember Cam saying he had a sister.

"Well, anyway, she does wear too much bronzer. She's bright orange! I wonder where her Red Sox hat is," I mused.

Cam picked up the remote control and paused the movie. "Why are you so obsessed with her?"

"I'm not obsessed with her. Why would I be obsessed with her? She has no personality. She's like one of those pod people. She looks at Conrad like he's God." I knew he was judging me for being so mean, but I couldn't stop talking.

He looked at me like he wanted to say something, but he didn't. Instead he turned the movie back on.

We sat there on the couch and finished watching the movie in silence. Toward the end I heard Conrad's voice on the stairs, and without even thinking I snuggled closer to Cam. I rested my head on his shoulder.

Conrad and Nicole came back downstairs, and Conrad looked at the two of us for a second before saying, "Tell my mom I took Nicole home."

I barely looked up. "Okay."

As soon as they were gone, Cam sat straight up, and I did too. He took a breath. "Did you invite me over here to make him jealous?"

"Who?" I said.

"You know who. Conrad."

I could feel a flush rising up my chest and all the way to my cheeks. "No." It seemed like everybody was wanting to know where things stood with Conrad and me.

"Do you still like him?"

"No."

He let out a breath of air. "See, you hesitated." "No, I didn't!"

Did I? Had I? I was sure I hadn't. To Cam I said, "When I look at Conrad, all I feel is disgust."

I could tell he didn't believe it. I didn't either. Because the truth was, when I looked at Conrad, all I felt was a yearning that never went away. It was the same as it had always been. Here I had this really great guy who actually liked me, and deep down inside I was still hung up on Conrad. There, that was the real truth. I had never really let go. I was just like Rose on that stupid makeshift raft.

Cam cleared his throat and said, "You're leaving soon. Do you want to keep in touch?"

I hadn't thought about that. He was right, the summer was almost over. Pretty soon I would be home again. "Um ... do you?"

"Well, yeah. I do."

He looked at me like he was expecting something, and I couldn't figure out what it was for a few seconds. Then I said, "Me too. I do too." But it came too late. Cam took his cell phone out of his pocket and said he'd better get going. I didn't argue.

 chapter forty

We finally had our movie night. My mother, Susannah, Jeremiah, and I watched Susannah's favorite Alfred Hitchcock movies in the rec room with all the lights off. My mother made kettle corn in the big cast-iron pot, and she went out and bought Milk Duds and gummy bears and saltwater taffy. Susannah loved saltwater taffy. It was classic, like old times, only without Steven and Conrad, who was working a dinner shift.

Halfway through Notorious, her most favorite of all, Susannah fell asleep. My mother covered her with a blanket, and when the movie was over, she whispered, "Jeremiah, will you carry her upstairs?"

Jeremiah, nodded quickly, and Susannah didn't even wake up when he lifted her in his arms and carried her up the rec room stairs. He picked her up like she was weightless, a feather. I'd never seen him do that before. Even though we were almost the same age, in that moment he almost seemed grown-up.

My mother got up too, stretching. "I'm exhausted. Are you going to bed, too, Belly?"

"Not yet. I think I'll clean up down here first," I said.

"Good girl," she said, winking at me, and then she headed upstairs.

I started picking up the taffy wrappers and a few kernels that had fallen onto the carpet.

Jeremiah came back down when I was putting the movie into its case. He sank into the couch cushions. "Let's not go to sleep yet," he said, looking up at me.

"Okay. Do you wanna watch another movie?"

"Nah. Let's just watch TV." He picked up the remote and started flipping through channels randomly. "Where's Cam Cameron been lately?"

Sitting back down, I sighed a little. "I don't know. He hasn't called, and I haven't called him. The summer's almost over. I'll probably never see him again."

He didn't look at me when he said, "Do you want to? See him again?"

"I don't know. . . . I'm not sure. Maybe. Maybe not."

Jeremiah put the TV on mute. He turned and looked at me then. "I don't think he's the guy for you." His eyes looked somber. I'd never seen him look so somber.

Lightly I said, "Yeah, I doubt it too."

"Belly . . . ," he began. He took a deep breath of air and puffed up his cheeks, and then he blew it out so hard the hair on his forehead fluttered. I could feel my heart start to pound–something was going to happen. He was going to say something I didn't want to hear. He was going to go and change everything.

I opened my mouth to speak, to interrupt him before he said something he couldn't take back, and he shook his head. "Just let me get this out."

He took another deep breath. "You've always been my best friend. But now it's more. I see you as more than that." He continued, scooting closer to me. "You're cooler than any other girl I've ever met, and you're there for me. You've always been there for me. I ... I can count on you. And you can count on me too. You know that."

I nodded. I could hear him talking, see his lips moving, but my mind was working a million miles a minute. This was Jeremiah. My buddy, my best pal. Practically my brother. The hugeness of it all made it hard to breathe. I could barely look at him. Because I didn't. I didn't see him that way. There was only one person. For me that person was Conrad.

"And I know you've always liked Conrad, but you're over him now, right?" His eyes looked so hopeful, it killed me, killed me to not answer him the way he wanted me to.

"I ... I don't know," I whispered.

He sucked in his breath, the way he did when he was frustrated. "But why? He doesn't see you that way. I do."

I could feel my eyes starting to tear up, which wasn't fair. I couldn't cry. It was just that he was right. Conrad didn't see me that way. I only wished I could see Jeremiah the way he saw me. "I know. I wish I didn't. But I do. I still do."

Jeremiah moved away from me. He wouldn't look at me; his eyes looked everywhere but at mine. "He'll only end up hurting you," he said, and his voice cracked.

"I'm so, so sorry. Please don't be mad at me. I couldn't take it if you were mad at me."

He sighed. "I'm not mad at you. I'm just–why does it always have to be Conrad?"

Then he got up, and left me sitting there.