Barefoot Girls (31 page)

The girls, who had been hanging out around Amy’s all day, their covert mission gone overt, were sitting on her front porch watching the whole scene, while trying to hang back and not look too interested. The result was that they stayed seated on the wicker chairs on the porch, but slowly moved closer and closer to the edge of their seats, their heads tilted as they listened to the boys’ conversation.

The older boys, continuing down the boardwalk, passed below the porch and saw the girls there.  They waved and yelled, “Hey!”

The girls jumped up from their perches and went to lean on the railing. “Hi!”

The boys slowed their steps, their uncertainty making them shuffle. Their eyes grew wide when they saw Keeley.

Zooey couldn’t stand it. “What are you guys doing? Did you say something about a party?”

The three boys, who had now shuffled to a complete stop, tore their eyes away from Keeley to look at Zooey. One of the boys said, “Uh…yeah...hey, you girls should come. It’s at Kevin’s, out on his dock.”

The short one with the red hair, Zooey always forgot his name, had refocused his attention on Keeley. He pointed at his chest and said, “I got the vodka. It was easy. Party’s going to be a blast. Are you gonna come?”

“Yeah, sure!” Pam said, bobbing her head with enthusiasm.

Zooey glanced at Pam. Dummy. Couldn’t she see that he was asking Keeley? If it wasn’t for Keeley, they wouldn’t be getting this invitation, the boys would have said something about it not really being a party, or made up some excuse, and then moved on down the dock with a wave.

“Yeah?” The short boy asked, still looking at Keeley.

Keeley nodded slightly and looked over at Pam. “Sure?”

Amy piped up. “I don’t know. We may have plans. I have to check with my mom.”

Pam’s head snapped around to look at Amy. “What?” She made a tsking sound. “No! Stop it.” She turned back to face the boys. “We’ll definitely come. Can’t wait. Thanks.”

All three of the boys were still staring at Keeley. “Cool,” the tall dark skinny one with the zits said. Zooey was pretty sure his name was John.  The only name she was certain of was the name of the silent boy, Charlie Baxter, who was one of her crushes. Seeing Charlie staring at Keeley that way hurt the most.

The boys started slowly walking away. “See ya at Kevin’s tonight. The party starts at eight,” the short one said.

Zooey watched them go and then witnessed the argument between Pam and Amy about whether they should have accepted the invitation as if from far away, her thoughts consumed with how much things had changed already because of Keeley, and feeling a mixture of fear and electric excitement about the evening to come.

Her fears, which she had hoped were due to an overactive imagination, turned out to be correct. That night they went to Kevin’s and everything was different. The boys swarmed around Keeley, monopolizing her to the point that the other three girls ended up shoved off to the side, standing in a cluster on the dock and sipping the harsh-tasting cocktails they had been handed upon arrival. The older girls stood in their own group at the end of the dock with Rose in their midst. Every once in a while, a raucous cackle of derisive laughter would rise up from them, the glances cast in the Barefooters’ direction making it clear who they were laughing at.

Zooey was getting ready to petition for their departure when Michael appeared, sauntering down the boardwalk in their direction, his hands in his pockets. God, he was handsome. And now, as he approached, she saw that he was a few inches taller than her, which was unheard of when it came to boys her age.  He slowed his steps as he got closer, looking at the crowd of boys, none of whom noticed his arrival or greeted him. They were all still focused on Keeley, and apparently telling her jokes, as you could hear peals of her laughter coming from where she was encircled.

Just then, Rose broke away from her girl-gang and strode down the dock, passing the Barefooters without a glance and saying “excuse me” in a strident angry voice when the cluster of boys surrounding Keeley wouldn’t move to allow her through. With a twinge of conflicted satisfaction, Zooey noted that Rose’s boyfriend was among the boys under Keeley’s spell.

A few boys moved and Rose was able to push through and reach Michael’s side on the boardwalk, smiling as she welcomed him. While Rose looked good with Kevin – both of them being attractive kids - her regal bearing and aloof demeanor were at odds with Kevin’s casual slouch and his overall mellow air of amusement. Standing next to Michael though, Rose looked as if she’d been paired with her perfect match in both gorgeousness and posture. Well, Zooey considered, gorgeous unless you stood her next to the new Keeley, anyway.

Rose got Michael a drink, pouring out the last of the pitcher into his glass, and stood talking to him. Although Zooey knew Rose was beautiful, she had trouble seeing it most of the time due to the girl’s underhanded cruel nature, but watching her sparkle under Michael’s gaze, she could see it again and felt the familiar sinking. He would never notice her, tall scrawny flat-chested Zo. Not ever.

Suddenly the group of boys surrounding Keeley broke, and Keeley stepped out of the circle, craning her neck around and then spotting the Barefooters. She grinned and jogged over to them. “Isn’t this party great? The boys are so funny! Oh, my God, I nearly died laughing. This drink is pretty good, too.”

Amy, who had never wanted to come to the party and whose mood had grown darker and darker as the evening progressed, snapped. “What? This party is not great. And this drink sucks. It tastes like rubbing alcohol with juice.  I want to go home.”

“No, you promised!” Pam whispered, lowering her head and glaring at Amy.

“Really?” Keeley’s smile faded.

Zooey knew she was being mean, but she didn’t want Michael to meet Keeley. Right now he was tied up with Rose. If they left immediately, they’d slip right by him without being noticed. The last thing she could stand tonight was seeing that look again on another boy’s face, especially on this new dream-come-true boy’s face.

She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Keeley, but this party really isn’t that great. The girls won’t talk to us at all; they’ve been standing over there giving us the evil eye all night. And they’ve already run out of vodka, I just saw someone take the last of what was in the pitcher. There’s not even any music. I can’t believe they didn’t bring a radio out here. We’d be having so much more fun right now eating Amy’s mom’s chocolate chip cookies and laughing our butts off with that book at our house,” Zooey said, referring to the bodice-ripper romance novel they’d found in a pile of discarded books at the island’s little dump last summer. They’d spent many of their evenings at their little clubhouse-shack before it grew dark reading sections of the book out loud, falling all over each other laughing at the story’s absurd characters and plot and getting bug-eyed at the steamy parts. Zooey wasn’t even sure that the other girls wanted to pick up where the left off, halfway through the book, but it was the only thing she could think of at that moment.

“Yeah, let’s do that,” Amy said with a brisk nod.

All of the color and excitement had drained from Keeley’s face, replaced by a sad wondering look. It made Zooey feel even more sorry. But she had to do what she had to do. “Pam? Come on, we’re just standing around on a dock. It’s not like there’s dancing or games or anything.”

Pam, always the get-along-girl, shrugged. “Okay. Let’s go.”

“Keeley?”

“Fine, whatever you guys want to do.”

They filed past the crowd of guys and Zooey overheard enough bits and pieces in passing to know that they were discussing how to get more vodka. Perfect, they were distracted and might not notice Keeley leaving. Her plan felt like a string was being pulled at both ends, growing too taut, ready to break. Just hang in there, another minute or so and they’d be gone. And then Zooey could relax. Maybe then the old uncomplicated love for her friends, the feeling she’d taken for granted until this summer, would come flooding back.

Rose glanced at them quickly as they approached, and then moved so that her back was to them. Zooey would have been happy about Rose’s efforts to block Michael from seeing them except now Rose was also blocking the way they would have made their exit, cutting to the left past the pair where they stood at the junction of dock and boardwalk. Now, to get past, the girls would have to circle around them. Zooey’s lips tightened and she breathed hard out of her nose. Damn that Rose!

Amy, who was leading the way, slowed down when she saw Rose block them, and as she did, a shout came from behind them.

“Keeley! Hey! You girls! Where are you going?”

It was the short redhead, leaning out of the huddle of boys. Some of the other boys turned to look. “Hey!”

The taut string snapped. Zooey clenched her teeth together. The other girls came to an abrupt halt, glancing over their shoulders.

It was at that moment that Keeley and Michael saw each other. Zooey knew because she was still facing that direction and saw Michael’s face over Rose’s head. That look. Eyes growing wider, expression becoming keen with interest, like a dog on a scent.

“Hi,” Keeley said, her voice soft, returning his gaze.

It was one of those cloudy muggy days that settled in on the island from time to time in July and August and Zooey was hanging out of the open window of their little clubhouse wiping at the yellow globs of egg that persistently clung to the gray shingles with a sponge, trying to get at the yellow goo wedged in the seams and cracks.

“I think we need another splash of that water,” she called down to Pam, who was sitting in her family’s rowboat in the shallow water below. Pam put down her dog-eared copy of
Seventeen
magazine, leaned over the edge of the boat with a small blue bucket that had been sitting next to her, scooped up some seawater and then stood, legs shaking to keep her balance. With a grunt, she threw the water up at the area that Zo was cleaning. It missed the main part of the mess, but splashed the clumps of yellow yolk enough to wet them. Zo leaned over and wiped again, nodding as more of the egg started to lift off onto her sponge. She slid inside to squat down on the floor and rinse her sponge in the bucket of seawater she had at her feet.

Amy was sitting against the opposite wall near the old chest that was still filled with the blankets they’d found all those years before, but now also contained beach towels and a collection of books. It also held three photo albums they’d created over the years documenting their summers together and their friendship which grew closer and more comfortable every year. Until this year.

Amy’s head was tipped back and resting on the wall, her eyes closed, but she opened them and spoke when Zooey came back inside. “I don’t even know why you’re working so hard. She’s just going to do it again tonight. What we’ve got to do is find a way to get back at that bitch. And I still think the best thing to do is to steal her underwear and run it up on the firehouse flagpole. She’s so uptight, it would drive her nuts, her underwear flying around for everyone to see. And we have to make sure everyone knows it’s her underwear, so we should put up a flag with it saying 'Rose’s panties are in a bunch'. Or something like that.”

Zooey shook her head, squeezing water out of the sponge. The water was starting to get yellow. She’d better get some fresh water soon or she’d just be painting the egg back on with her sponge. “That would just make it worse. She’s already got all the kids avoiding us. Even the little kids act scared when they see us coming. I bet she told them some horrible story about us. Like we’re witches and eat babies or something.”

“Well, we can’t just keep taking it lying down. You know what really burns me up? She’s not even mad at us. She’s mad at Keeley for stealing her thunder. She thinks Keeley stole Michael from her. And all this stupidity is about boys, that’s the worst part. Boys! Who cares? They’re so…dumb.”

Zooey sighed. The same old refrain she’d been hearing for weeks. Zooey waited for part two of Amy’s daily rant since Rose started targeting their little house with toilet paper, eggs, and shaving cream.

“And you know what else?”

Zooey looked at Amy and nodded in resignation.

“Keeley’s a traitor. I can’t believe you guys still want her back. She’s been blowing us off for a month. A month! Today it’s a month! Keeley and Michael, Michael and Keeley, la di da. She can have him. And just you wait! He’s gonna get sick of her, and then she’s going to come crying back to us, but I’m not going to forgive her that easily. She’s going to have to work for it. Especially after all this, this war, with Rose and her friends. Seriously.”

Zooey stood up and then sat on the window’s edge again. Before leaning out, she surprised herself by looking at Amy and saying, “You’ll forgive her. We all will. Things won’t be the same until we’re all together again. You know it, too.”

Amy looked back at her, her little face stony and resistant. Zooey leaned back out the window to work again on the eggs that were splattered all over their not-so-secret clubhouse.

That night the clouds cleared and a full moon shone into Zooey’s bedroom, making the room nearly as bright as day. She lay awake and wondering whether she should have gone with them. Right now, Pam and Amy were probably hoisting Rose’s bra and panties high on the island’s firehouse’s flagpole with the old ripped pillowcase painted with Amy’s preferred message. At least they’d be able to see what they were doing without having to use flashlights. They were also in more danger of being caught, their revenge exposed by moonlight.