Forbidden Boy

Julianne dragged her feet across the ground, the soles of her worn-in red ballet flats leaving sand trails on the cement behind her. Twenty yards ahead on the beach, Chloe was waiting for her, tapping one platform espadrille impatiently. “Jules, move it or lose it! This party waits for no man!” Julianne squinted to see her sister through the ten o’clock moonlight and shivered as a burst of early-June breeze broke through the warm night and crept up her spine. Around her, the sky was blue-black, and the only things she could make out clearly were the reflection of the water and the shape of the dunes.

Although Chloe’s tone was light, Julianne rolled her eyes in her sister’s direction and let out an exasperated sigh. She hunched her shoulders, shoved her hands deep into the pockets of her faded Citizens, and grumbled. “It doesn’t matter. I’m sure by the time we get there someone will have snatched up the beach rights and we’ll have to head back home anyway. I mean, it isn’t about who’s been here the longest. If some arrogant jerks with buckets of money decide to, oh, I don’t know, build a massive addition onto their huge glass house, they can just take over the beach to do that any time they want—

right?”

“Oh, Jules …” Chloe sighed, lacing her fingers through the belt loops of her denim miniskirt. Julianne noticed that her sister’s tangerine manicure matched her braided ribbon belt perfectly. Chloe was obviously trying her best to ignore the recent developments threatening their home. Even though their artist mother had purchased the family’s ocean-side property and its cozy 1960s cottage-style house, full of quirky nooks and little balconies nearly thirty years ago, changes in the neighborhood were now threatening to force the family out of their beachside house.

Over the past few years, wealthy families, enchanted by the beauty of the beach, had begun moving into the neighborhood en masse. It seemed that a new mansion was springing up around them practically every month.

With each new mansion came a new lawyer knocking on the door trying to cajole, guilt-trip, or bully the family into selling their land so that the new neighbors could build some “really amazing” hot tub, cabana, or heliport on the beach.

“We’ll be okay,” Chloe continued, turning toward the ocean. “It’s been our house for thirty years; no one can take it from us. Mom and Dad had their first date on our beachfront, they got married in the house, we have both lived our entire lives there, and Mom … well, you know.”

Neither girl wanted to finish Chloe’s sentence.

Although their mother had been dead for several years, the house was still full of her creativity and warmth.

“I don’t know,” Julianne protested. “The Moores really mean business. They’re way more intense than any of the other families have been.” The Moore family had only moved in a few weeks earlier, but they were incredibly vocal about their plans to build a huge addition onto their already massive mansion. “I mean, it’s totally insane. They move in, level a whole chunk of the beach, and build this huge glass castle looking out onto the ocean. Okay, whatever, they’re not the first. But now they want to build a gigantic addition, too? For what?

Servants’ quarters? A horse stable? What else could they possibly need?”

“I know. I don’t trust them either,” Chloe conceded.

“But we can’t do anything about it tonight, so we might as well enjoy ourselves.” They had stopped moving toward the party, and Julianne shivered slightly as a whisper of cool ocean breeze broke through the warmth of the night. Fearing that Jules might turn around and head home, Chloe switched tactics. “Listen, Little Mary Sunshine, we’re going to this party and we’re going to have a good time—whether you like it or not. It’s non-negotiable. So you can enjoy yourself or you can pretend to enjoy yourself, but those are your only options.”

“Ooh, don’t I get to look behind door number three before I decide?”

“Nope, that’s it. You can learn to love it or you can learn to fake it,” Chloe chirped, enumerating Julianne’s options with her fingers. She looked like a very determined camp counselor trying to wheedle some bratty child into drinking the bug juice. Julianne felt her shoulders relax and couldn’t help but let out a short laugh.

Laughing felt like gulping huge mouthfuls of air after being underwater for a very long time.

“Okay, then,” Julianne conceded. “Sounds like a plan. I can do fun. I love fun. Fun is my middle name.”

“Um, Jules?” Chloe swept her hair back off her shoulders and arched one well-maintained eyebrow toward her younger sister. “You don’t have a middle name.”

Julianne shrugged her shoulders and giggled, noticing Chloe’s triumphant expression. “You got me there, Captain Literal. Whose party is this, anyway?”

“Okay. So, do you remember Jess and Molly? From Kappa Delta?” Chloe had rushed the sorority her first semester at UCLA and already had more friends than Julianne could keep track of. Julianne pursed her lips together, trying to match faces to names. “Anyway,”

Chloe continued, “it’s their old roommate, Kristen.

She’s great.”

“Did she go to high school with you? I don’t remember her,” Julianne cut in. Chloe always knew everyone, everywhere, and it was generally difficult to keep track of which friends were from which school, job, or club. In the summer in the Pacific Palisades, though, Julianne felt like everyone was friends. Surrounded by sand and sunshine, it was almost impossible not to have fun.

“Nope. I think she went to private school somewhere.

I met her during rush. Anyway, she has a bonfire permit, kegs, the whole nine. I’m sure we’ll probably know at least half the people there. And …” Chloe’s voice trailed off as she twisted a strand of coffee-colored hair around her finger.

“And?” Julianne prodded.

Julianne’s eyes met Chloe’s, both flashing in recognition at the same time. “Oh no,” Jules sputtered. “Oh no no no no no.”

Chloe shifted her weight and looked at her sister, still twisting her hair. “J, c’mon. You need a distraction from the stress with Dad and the house. You’re going to give yourself an ulcer. You’re going to give
me
an ulcer.”

Julianne threw up her hands in mock indignation, hoping that Chloe would catch the gesture even on the darkened beach. “Me?
I’m
going to give
you
an ulcer?”

she mock-whined. “You just took, like, ninety-seven classes; you’re working at the children’s hospital this summer; you do the expert sudoku for fun; and you just scheduled a bikini wax for Wednesday”—Julianne took an exaggerated breath before finishing her rant—“and
I’m
the thing that’s eating away at your stomach lining?”

“Okay, let me rephrase. My ulcer aside, we both know that things have been a little high-intensity on the home front recently.” Chloe glanced at her sister for confirmation. “And you know what’s a great stress-reliever? Making out.”

“So have you already picked someone out to relieve my stress, or do I draw straws when we get there?”

Julianne asked grudgingly.

Chloe clapped her hands and reached out to put an arm around her younger sister. “Oh, Jules, he’s totally hot. And super smart. You’re going to love him.”

In the distance, Julianne could hear the thumping bass line of a Common song. She could smell the bonfire smoke and hear the waves chasing the shoreline.

Chloe did have a point. Was there anything better than a start-of-summer beach party? She laughed as she let her sister drag her down the beach, over the dunes, and toward the party.

As soon as Chloe and Julianne hit the mass of people weaving around the bonfire, a group of shouting and laughing girls bum-rushed Chloe and pulled her off in pursuit of a keg. Alone in the hive of UCLA Greeks, Santa Monica rugby guys who’d somehow caught a ride over, and assorted skaters, surfers, friends from school, and townies, Julianne felt like she was floating in the middle of a cyclone of activity. She looked out over the firelit field of sun-streaked blond heads and laughed. It was a complete Palisades mélange. To her right, Julianne saw her co-editor of the
Cliffview
—the Palisades High art magazine—snuggled into the lap of the adorable college guy who waited tables over at the Fishtail. On the other side of the bonfire, she could just make out her third-grade science partner (who was now earning a reputation as a pretty decent longboarder). Enthusiastic girls in tiny cutoff sweats and bikini tops were tossing a Frisbee with a group of cute boys in lifeguard sweatshirts, their Billabong surf shorts hanging easily off of their hips.

Julianne bopped her head to the beat as the music tran-sitioned into last summer’s Rihanna song. Humming

“Umbrella, ella … ella …” to herself, she continued her inaugural party lap.

“Jules!” A chorus of male voices bellowed her name from a distance and, squinting, Julianne could just make out Mitch and Hunter, two of her cross-country teammates, and a few of their friends, up ahead.

“Hey there!” She sidled up to her teammates, arms thrown wide open to receive their bear hugs. “How’s summer treating you so far?”

The guys shrugged their muscular shoulders before answering. “Oh, you know. Some surfing, some running, just trying to chill a little before work starts,” Mitch replied in his laid-back surfer drawl.

Hunter nodded in agreement, his sandy curls bobbing. “And you, J-money? Big summer plans? Are you still working with Bill?”

Julianne nodded. “Yes, indeedy.”

“Rock on. Me too.” Mitch smiled, his huge dimples on display. “And Hunt might be popping by for a few jobs. The pay is sweet.”

Julianne grinned, delighted that she’d be spending a summer in the sun with some of her favorite boys.

“Awesome. It’s a cool project, too. I think we’re going to have a blast. In, you know, that manual-labor type of way.”

“Works for me!” the guys chimed at the same time.

“Hey,” Hunter started hopefully. “Jules, have you heard from Kat lately?”

Kat Tse, Julianne’s best friend, had briefly dated Hunter over the spring and they were still friends.

“Nope, not in a few days,” Julianne replied, shaking her head. “I think she’s still settling into her dorm in Madrid. Her Spanish classes don’t start until next week.”

“Cool. When you talk to her, tell her I said hey,”

Hunter said easily. Julianne admired his comfort level with Kat. Although she was still friendly with most of her exes, she definitely didn’t count them among her nearest and dearest.

“Will do.” Julianne grinned and nodded.

“We should head out,” Mitch said. “I’ve got to be up early tomorrow. Fishing with my dad. And these losers”—he gestured to the other guys—“all need rides home.”

“Have a good night,” Julianne said, doling out a parting round of hugs. “See you at work.”

“Totally.” Hunter grinned. As the guys headed away down the beach, he turned around and called over his shoulder, “Oh, Jules, Lucy is looking for you. She has your negatives or something. You left them at the Mean Bean.”

“Awesome. Thanks. Later, guys.” Julianne waved at her friends, filled her lungs with delicious salty air, and headed off in search of her favorite self-proclaimed

“coffee-shop wench.”

After fifteen minutes of searching for Lucy and the envelope of negatives she’d left at the Mean Bean the day before, Julianne was still empty-handed. She had, however, taken a few mini-breaks to admire the surfers peeling off their T-shirts to go night-swimming, and to say hello to a few more friends from school. She was having a fabulous time, but she was just plain thirsty.

“’Scuse me.” Julianne edged past a blond couple dancing so close they could have been sharing a kidney, en route to the first cooler she could find. Scooting past hordes of tanned bodies bumping up against each other, she unconsciously tugged down the hem of her soft gray T-shirt. Julianne smiled, looking down at the fabric. She had forgotten how smeared and spotted with black ink it was. All of the stains were like birthmarks, giving the shirt uniqueness and character. She loved this shirt, even though Chloe rolled her eyes and pouted whenever she came down the stairs wearing it. It was Julianne’s shirt for getting things done, for creating new things, for making life happen. And, as worn as it was, it was still her favorite party shirt. She scooped her long dark curls off of her neck and into a messy bun atop her head in preparation for a dive toward the cooler. Moments later, she was walking away with a can of PBR—the official beer of the perpetually broke and self-consciously hip—in her hand, and a trail of cooler water down the front of her favorite shirt. She was congratulating herself on a job well done when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Julianne wheeled around.

“Thank God—I thought I’d completely lost you.”

Chloe’s face was flushed from the bonfire, her green hoodie unzipped to reveal a dusty pink tank top trimmed with funky antique lace. “Are you having fun yet?”

“Totally,” Julianne conceded.

“Fantastic!” Chloe bubbled, linking her arm through Jules’s and pulling her along. “It’s about to get even better.” Chloe swept Julianne through the crowd, back past the bonfire, in between two lines of coolers, and around what appeared to be two dueling sororities engaged in a full-on dance war, before stopping at the kegs.