Mixed Bags (5 page)

“You’re not thirsty?” he persisted.

“Actually, I am,” she admitted. “But I left the house so quickly that I didn’t even grab a bag. I’m broke.”

He laughed. “Hey, I was the one asking you. Why don’t you let me handle the finances on this?”

She smiled now. “Sure, a Coke sounds good. Thanks.”

DJ wonDereD IF THIS
was a date, as she and Conner walked toward town.
No
, she thought,
it’s just hanging with a friend. A date is something that’s prearranged, and the guy comes to your house and picks you up.
Still, it was the closest thing she’d had to a date. She partially blamed this on the fact that her mother had died when she was fifteen and, according to her mom, was still not old enough to date. Then, just as she’d gotten interested in a guy while living with her dad and Jan and the cantankerous twins, it had been time to relocate.

“So what have you been up to lately?” he asked as they walked down Main Street toward the Hammerhead Café—Conner’s choice and a place DJ hadn’t been to yet.

She told him about the new arrivals at Carter House. She tried to paint a light picture of the situation, but did let on that it was going to take some getting used to.

“Anyway,” she said as they sat at one of the outside picnic tables covered in some slightly grimy oilcloth. “It felt a little crowded in there, and I just needed to get away.”

“So what are they like?”

“Huh?” She studied his shaggy brown hair, noticing how the sun had bleached the ends some, but it was actually a shade or two darker than her own. Still it was attractive in a beach-boy sort of way.

“The other girls I mean. What are they like?”

“Oh, well, I have to admit that they’re really pretty. My grandmother probably wouldn’t let a girl live there if she weren’t pretty. Well, except me, and that’s only because I’m family.”

“You’re pretty.”

DJ laughed. “Yeah, right. But, thanks anyway.”

“No, you really are.” He leaned in as if to study her more closely. “I mean you’re not a frilly kind of girl. Kind of what I’d call low maintenance.”

“How would you even know what that was?”

“My sister Amy. She’s in college now, and she might’ve calmed down some. But when she was at home, she was what I’d call really high maintenance. Seriously, she would not step out of the house if she hadn’t washed, blown-dry, and styled her hair within an inch of its life. Then she had to put on these layers of makeup that took like an hour. After that, she’d try on about twenty things out of her closet until she had the perfect outfit. I swear that girl had to get up at four in the morning just to make it to school on time.”

DJ laughed. “Yeah, I guess that is high maintenance.”

“Which you obviously are not.”

She frowned. “It’s that obvious?”

“It’s not a bad thing, DJ. I think it’s pretty cool that you don’t put a lot of time and fuss into your appearance.”

“Kinda like one of the guys.” She couldn’t help but frown as she wondered what Conner’s real perception of her might be.

But he just smiled. And his blue eyes sparkled in a way that she couldn’t be sure was serious or not. “Yeah, except you’re better to look at than a guy.”

Thankfully, the waitress came to take their order just then.

“Want some fries too?” asked Conner.

She grinned. “Actually, that sounds pretty good. It was kind of hard to eat tonight with so much going on at the table. I just wanted to get out of there.”

So he ordered a large side of fries and two Cokes. As a distraction from talking about looks, DJ asked if he planned to play fall soccer and when practices start. She was pretty sure he’d already told her, but it was a good way to move the conversation.

“Varsity practice started already,” he told her. “For guys anyway. It started last week. I thought I mentioned it.”

She nodded. “Maybe you did. Guess I’m kinda spacey with all the craziness going on at my house. Did I tell you that Rhiannon is going to live there?”

“Really? How’d that happen?”

“I guess her mom and my grandma worked something out.”

“Rhiannon should be glad. She was pretty bummed about moving.”

Then DJ told him about Rhiannon’s roommate, Taylor, and her celebrity mother.

“I’ve heard that name,” he said. “Cool. Someone almost famous.”

DJ rolled her eyes.

“You don’t like this Taylor girl very much, do you?”

“I thought I liked her. I mean not so much at first because she seemed kind of snotty. But then I hung with her awhile this afternoon—after I caught her smoking.”

He chuckled. “Does your grandma know about that?”

“No.”

“Good blackmail material.”

“My grandmother probably wouldn’t even believe me. I’m sure she thinks those girls are all perfect, and that I’m the loser of the bunch.”

He frowned. “Why would she think that?”

“You haven’t met my grandmother yet, have you?”

“I know she was somebody big in the fashion world. My mom and sister both told me that much. They were impressed.”

“Yeah, people who are into fashion and all that nonsense are totally impressed. My grandmother likes to be surrounded by people who are impressed with her, and I’m just not. I mean who cares if she was a supermodel back in the Stone Age. In my opinion, fashion magazines only contribute to eating disorders and body-image problems. Who needs them?”

He nodded. “Okay, I get it now.”

“So I’m like…” she tried to think of a metaphor. “Like the odd girl out, I guess.”

“That must be hard.”

“Anyway, for a little while, I thought maybe I liked Taylor and maybe she had more going on than just surface stuff. Then it was like she totally turned on me. I can’t even remember why exactly. I think it was mostly related to fashion…like if I can’t speak fashioneeze, or know the stupid names of the stupid designers, I’m not good enough to be her friend.”

“That’s pretty harsh.”

“Yeah, but then I did something pretty stupid.”

“What?”

So she told him about the tennis match, and he just laughed.

“Dumb, huh?” she said.

“Or it could be fun. Are you any good at tennis?”

“I’m okay.”

He grinned. “Yeah, you probably are, DJ. I think you’re just a natural at most sports.”

She shrugged. “Maybe Taylor will forget about it.”

Now the waitress returned with their order and, once again, DJ thanked Conner. Then she felt embarrassed, like maybe it was overkill, but this whole thing was still new to her. And she didn’t want to seem unappreciative either. Conner seemed like a really nice guy; he seemed to get her. And sitting here, just having a normal conversation with a normal guy, was hugely reassuring. Maybe she wasn’t such a hopeless loser after all.

“So how about you, DJ? Are you going to play soccer too?”

“Yeah, but you probably heard they aren’t having fall soccer for girls this year. I guess there aren’t enough schools in the area to play. But I’ll play in the spring. In the meantime, I’ll go out for volleyball. I didn’t play last year, and it’ll be fun to see if I still know how.”

“I’m sure you’ll be good at it,” he said.

So as they occupied themselves by talking about sports, eating fries, and sipping on Cokes, DJ realized it was the most fun she’d had in days—maybe weeks or even months. And by the time they finished and were walking back toward their neighborhood, she felt almost hopeful. The sky was getting dusky blue and she could hear a woman’s voice calling her kids to come inside and “get ready for bed.”

“Thanks, Conner,” she told him as they stopped in front of her grandmother’s house. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but I was feeling pretty bummed when I was down at the docks.”

“I could tell.”

She looked curiously at him. “You could?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I guess the waterworks kind of gave you away.”

“Oh.”

“See ya around then?” His eyes looked hopeful.

“Sure,” she told him.

“Good luck…in the big tennis match, I mean.”

She kind of laughed. “Yeah, thanks.”

Her step felt a lot springier as she walked toward the house. The lights were on inside, and it almost looked cheerful in there. Still, she paused on the porch, unsure as to whether she was ready to go in or not.

“Big date tonight?”

DJ jumped to see the red glow of a cigarette burning in the shadows of the porch. “Taylor?”

“Who else?”

“I didn’t see you.”

“Who is he?”

“Who?”

“Your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Yeah, whatever. What’s his name?”

“Conner.”

“And he’s not your boyfriend.”

“He’s just a friend.”

“He’s cute.”

DJ barely nodded. “I guess.”

“And built too.”

DJ just shrugged, acting as if she hadn’t noticed, but the fact that Taylor had was somewhat irritating.

“One of your sports-jock friends?”

“Yeah, he’s into sports.”

“Like you?”

DJ put her hands on her hips now, taking a step closer to where Taylor was curled up like a cat in one of the wicker chairs, taking a slow drag on her cigarette, which made the end glow bright red. Obviously, she wasn’t too concerned about whether anyone knew or not. Or maybe she wanted to get caught. DJ just glared at her without saying anything.

“What’s your problem?” asked Taylor.

“Look, Taylor, I don’t know why you’ve set your sights on me, but it’s getting old, okay?”

“I don’t have my sights set on
anyone.
” Taylor let out a long puff of smoke. “Least of all you,
Desiree.
”

“The name is DJ.”

“Whatever.”

“Fine.” DJ turned to go into the house. There was no point in trying to connect with this infuriating girl. It seemed perfectly clear that Taylor had a chip the size of a Hummer on her shoulder. Probably because her celebrity mommy had dumped her here. But then what made Taylor’s case any more special than DJ’s? At least Taylor’s parents were both still alive.

Just as DJ’s hand reached the handle of the front door, Taylor called out, “Don’t forget.”

DJ looked back at her. “Forget
what
?”

“Our little tennis match. You promised to clean my clock, DJ. Or did you forget?”

“Don’t worry. I didn’t forget.”

“But maybe you want to chicken out?”

“I am not a chicken.”

“So you’re still up for it then?”

“Of course.”

“I invited Eliza and Kriti to come with us. They think it’ll be a kick. We thought we’d go around ten. Eliza will drive us.”

“Grandmother is letting her use the Mercedes?” Now this really burned since her grandmother had barely let DJ use her car.

“Eliza has her own car.”

“Where?”

“Here. It was delivered after dinner, right after you sneaked off.” Taylor nodded toward the side of the house. “It’s parked in back. Nice set of wheels too.”

For some reason this aggravated DJ even more. Whether it was that Taylor was in the loop and DJ wasn’t—or the fact that Eliza had her own car—but something about this whole thing just irked her. Even so, she forced a smile as she made a cheerful little wave. “See you in the morning, Taylor.”

“THaT Was OuT!”
cried DJ as she shook her racket at Taylor.

“No way,” said Taylor as she prepared to serve again. “It was totally in, Desiree.”

“The name’s DJ,” she yelled. “And that serve was out!”

“Get ready,” said Taylor. “I’m serving again.”

“You’re cheating!” yelled DJ.

Taylor paused with her racket still poised and ready to serve. She looked over to the sidelines where Eliza and Kriti were sitting, sipping their Starbucks. “What do you girls say?”

“Yeah,” called DJ. “It was out, wasn’t it?”

“Sorry, but Taylor’s right,” called Eliza, as if she thought she’d just been appointed line judge. “It was in.”

Kriti nodded and held up a thumb. “In!”

“Out!” demanded DJ. She glared at Eliza and Kriti now. It was clear what was happening here; the fashion girls were aligning themselves against her. She wondered why she’d even agreed to this stupid tennis match in the first place. What was the point if Taylor already had everyone in her pocket?

DJ had assumed she had this game in the bag when Taylor came down to breakfast looking like Tennis Barbie. She felt certain that anyone who primped to play tennis couldn’t possibly be any good. But now as she was losing, she realized she’d probably been wrong about a lot of things.

It didn’t help matters when Conner and another guy showed up to witness DJ’s humiliating loss. DJ attempted to ignore them, trying to pretend they weren’t there as they lurked on the opposite side from Eliza and Kriti, but she could hear Conner’s attempt to coach and encourage her from the sidelines. Not that it helped. Nothing could help her game today. And she was fully aware of the fact that she was beating herself as much as Taylor was winning this stupid match. Of course, that only made her madder.

Taylor was an average player. Okay, maybe even better than average. But DJ had totally psyched herself out right from the start when she’d allowed her anger and embarrassment to get the best of her over some close shots that she felt Taylor called unfairly. After that she was too rattled to focus much, and Taylor had her running all over the court just to return shots, many of which she missed. When it was all finished, DJ only had herself to blame—the worst way to lose.

“Nice game,” said Taylor with a slight smirk as she reached over the net to shake DJ’s hand.

DJ rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. Back at you.” She just wanted to get out of here, and the sooner the better. She actually considered making a run for it, but knew that would probably look totally lame.

“Hey, DJ,” called Conner from where he and the other guy were now walking over to join the girls. “Too bad for you.”

DJ sighed. “I messed up from the start,” she said defensively. “After that it was all downhill.” She adjusted her ball cap and then glanced over her shoulder and across the street, trying to think of a way to make a graceful exit.

Conner nodded, smiling at Taylor now. “Yeah, DJ’s a great athlete. I think you just caught her on an off day.” Then Conner kept looking at Taylor, gazing at her in a way that seemed to show she had gotten his attention…and was keeping it. Taylor smiled back at him, as if she knew she had him. And DJ seethed.

“Oh, I’m sure that’s the case,” said Taylor in what seemed an overly seductive voice now, especially considering they were standing around on a public tennis court, drenched in sweat. At least DJ was drenched in sweat. Taylor still looked cool as a spring breeze.

“Are you going to introduce us to your friends?” Eliza asked DJ as she and Kriti came over to join the foursome.

DJ restrained herself from hitting Taylor, as she politely introduced her “new friends” to Conner, explaining how the girls were new in town but would be going to high school with them. She was so polite, especially considering how she felt, that she thought even her grandmother might be proud. Or not. She turned to Conner with a stiff smile.

“I don’t think I’ve met your friend.”

“This is Harry Green,” said Conner casually. “Harry and his family are old-timers here in Crescent Cove. They go back…like how far, Harry? To the Mayflower, or was it even before that?”

Harry shrugged and made a half smile. “Something like that.”

“My family goes back to before the Revolution,” said Eliza. She pushed her sunglasses up to reveal sparkling blue eyes as she smiled at Harry.

“Pleased to meet you,” said Harry, his gaze fixed on her. “Welcome to Crescent Cove.”

“Thank you,” said Eliza. “From what I’ve seen, it’s a pretty little town.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “You sound like you’re from the south.”

She nodded. “Louisville.”

“I’ve been there,” said Harry. “I have some relatives, but Louisville is a whole lot bigger than our town. You think you can get used to a place like this?”

“I love that it’s near the ocean,” she said. “Not that I’ve seen much yet. I just got here yesterday.”

“Maybe you need a tour guide,” offered Harry. “Not that there’s much to see, but if you’re interested in a little tour, I’d be more than happy to show you around.” He jerked his thumb over to where a blue Jeep Wrangler with its top down was parked nearby. “That’s my ride there.”

Then Eliza nodded in the opposite direction, where she’d parked her little white Porsche convertible, also with the top down. “I have wheels too.”

Harry let out a low whistle. “Man, do you ever.”

“Why don’t we all head to the beach?” suggested Taylor.

“Great idea,” said Conner. “Town’s going to be crawling with tourists anyway, since it’s Labor Day weekend and all.”

“And the weather couldn’t be better,” said Eliza. “So nice that it cooled down after yesterday.”

“And we’ve got a great spot on the beach,” said Harry. “It’s a place that only locals know about.”

“Sounds good,” said Eliza. She turned to Kriti. “You in?”

Kriti shrugged, as if she was unsure. “I don’t know…”

“Oh, come on,” said Eliza. “It’ll be fun. And school starts next week. This is the last of summer vacation; we need to make the most of it.”

“Okay,” Kriti said. “I guess it might be fun.”

“DJ and I need to go home and change,” said Taylor.

“And we need to get some things,” added Eliza.

DJ wasn’t even sure she wanted to go on this beach trip, plus she didn’t like anyone, especially Taylor, speaking for her.

“I don’t know if I’m going,” she said in voice that sounded pretty grumpy, even to her ears.

“Are you still pouting because I beat you?” teased Taylor.

“No,” said DJ. “I just don’t know if I want to—”

“Come on, DJ,” said Conner as he slipped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a warm squeeze. “Don’t be a spoilsport.”

She was about to say something mean, but that was when she noticed he was looking right into her eyes. And for a moment, she forgot everything else—everything but that clear, gorgeous shade of blue, deep and clear, just like the Atlantic Ocean.

“Okay,” she said in a much more civilized, almost demure, tone. “But I do need to clean up.”

“No problem,” said Conner. “How about if we meet you guys at Carter House?”

“Sounds great,” said Eliza cheerfully, digging around in her shiny white Prada bag. She pulled out her car keys that were attached to a large silver object. It looked more like jewelry than a key chain.

“And, with six of us, we’ll definitely need to take both cars,” said Harry. He dangled his keys in front of Conner’s nose now. “You can drive my Jeep if I can ride with Eliza.”

“Deal,” said Conner eagerly reaching for the keys.

“Deal,” said Eliza, nodding at Harry.

“Give us an hour or so,” commanded Taylor, as if she alone were calling the shots. “DJ and I both need to clean up.”

“How about noon?” suggested Eliza after checking her watch.

“See ya then,” called Harry as he and Conner headed back toward his Jeep.

“This is going to be fun,” said Eliza as they walked across the tennis court toward her Porsche.

“Oh, yeah,” said Taylor. “Those guys are both really cute.”

Eliza frowned slightly. “Maybe we should’ve asked them to invite some more guy friends to come along. I mean this is kind of lopsided—two guys and four girls.”

“It’s not as if we need to pair off,” said Kriti a little indignantly. “That’s certainly not why I’m going.”

“Well, what about you, Taylor?” asked Eliza as she paused by her car. “Will you mind?”

“Mind what?” said Taylor quickly.

Eliza nodded toward DJ now. “Well, I sort of assume that Conner and DJ are a couple and that leaves you and Kriti both without—”

“You assume wrong,” said Taylor as she set her bag and tennis racket into the front seat and then opened the door, pulled back the seat, and waited for Kriti to climb into the back. Then she got into the front passenger seat, the same spot she’d occupied on the way over. “DJ made it perfectly clear to me last night that she and Conner are only friends. Right, DJ?”

DJ and Kriti were both seated in the back now. And, although what Taylor was saying was true in essence, DJ felt it was wrong and unfair, not to mention manipulative. Still, she wasn’t sure how to straighten this thing out.

“
Right
, DJ?” Taylor turned around in the front seat to scowl at DJ now. “You did say that you and Conner were simply friends, didn’t you? It’s not like I’m making this stuff up, am I?”

“I said we were friends,” admitted DJ. “But that doesn’t mean it couldn’t change. I mean, it’s not like I can predict the future, but I do feel there’s something special between us.”

“Well, that’s not how you sounded to me last night,” said Taylor. “You were all like ‘we’re just friends, and that’s all.’” She turned back around in the seat, speaking more to Eliza now. “If you ask me, that girl is flaky. She says one thing and then turns around and says something totally different.”

“I am not flaky,” said DJ. “I was just trying to be honest. Conner and I aren’t officially a couple, but—”

“But it’s a possibility,” offered Eliza in a kind voice. “Don’t pick on DJ, Taylor. I understand what she’s saying. Maybe she thinks something is developing.”

“Maybe she’s wrong,” said Taylor.

DJ gripped the handle of her tennis racket more tightly. It was all she could do not to raise it up and pop big-mouth Taylor over the head with it. Also, she was tempted to boycott this stupid beach party altogether—and she would have gladly—except for the disgusting thought of Taylor hotly pursuing poor Conner in her absence.

DJ could just imagine Taylor grabbing Conner’s hand as they were walking on the beach. She’d probably be wearing a skimpy bikini that showed off everything, including what DJ felt certain were silicone breast implants, as she tackled the poor guy down to the sand and then rolled in the surf, forcing him to make out with her. That image alone would ensure that DJ went along with this little field trip. Not only that, but today might need to be the day that she made her big play for Conner. Certainly, she wasn’t really prepared for this. She had hoped their relationship, a really good friendship, might develop more slowly and steadily.

Feeling discouraged and beaten, DJ looked down at herself. She was wearing a frumpy old pair of gray sweat shorts along with a worn and faded blue Gap T-shirt that was still damp with perspiration and stretched out and frayed around the neck. Even DJ realized this outfit was not the least bit attractive, even if it was comfortable. But she hadn’t been thinking of fashion when she dressed this morning; she had only been thinking of beating the snot out of Taylor.

And she hadn’t expected Conner and his friend to show up like that. She wondered how Taylor had this figured out. Because who dresses up like that to play sports? Why would you want to get a nice outfit all sweaty? Well, obviously, girls like Taylor would. Girls like Taylor—and maybe Eliza and Kriti too—probably never went anywhere, not even to the emergency room to have a limb sewn back on, without looking their absolute best. They would probably freshen up their makeup while riding in the ambulance.

“Because,” she could just hear her grandmother saying, “you just never know who you’ll run into.”

Well, DJ knew one thing: if she was going to compete with Taylor—and that seemed to be the case—it was high time she cleaned up her act. Not that she expected Conner to be taken in by appearances. Just last night he had made it clear that he wasn’t that kind of a guy. Even so, DJ had seen him looking at Taylor. She was certain that he noticed the cleavage rising above her low-cut, snug-fitting, pink and white tennis shirt. She was sure he noticed those long brown legs in the short, short tennis skirt. Guys couldn’t help but notice that kind of thing. They were guys, after all.

Still, DJ didn’t have a clue as to what she was going to do or what she was going to wear to get Conner to look at her that way. Then, just as Eliza turned into the driveway, DJ remembered something. She remembered how, only last night, her grandmother had solicited assistance from these three girls, hinting that they might share some of their good style sense with her poor misguided and fashion-challenged granddaughter. She had practically begged these girls to help DJ improve her appearance.

As they walked into the house, DJ knew for a fact she would not be going to Taylor for help. That would be like asking the enemy if you could borrow a gun. No, she decided, she would go to Eliza. Privately. No way did she want Taylor to know what she was up to. She felt certain that Taylor would sabotage any attempt DJ made to compete with her.

“Hey, DJ,” said Eliza as they paused at the foot of the steps. “Do you think it would be okay if we took something from here to eat at the beach? Or, maybe we should just pick something up on the way.”

“We can probably find something here,” said DJ, thinking this was her chance. “Want to go see what’s available?”

“What are you doing?” asked Clara as DJ and Eliza stepped into her territory. DJ quickly told Clara their plans, which got Clara off the hook for having to serve and clean up lunch. Clara’s eyes lit up. “Help yourselves,” she said, pointing out what was on-and off-limits. She even got them an ice chest. “Do you girls think you’ll be home in time for dinner?”