Pool Boys (10 page)

Maybe Charlotte shouldn’t have come to the club in such a funk. The rain certainly didn’t improve her mood much. Her brand-new Miu Miu sandals were soaking, and she was forced to make a quick stop in the ladies’ room, because her mascara had started to run. Normally, Charlotte didn’t wear mascara, but today was special. Kind of.

To add insult to injury, Mom had insisted that Charlotte drag Stella McCartney along, though of course Charlotte refused to bring him inside. Stella could wait in the backseat of the BMW while she took care of this quick matter of business. The dog could also provide a convenient excuse for her to leave.

Charlotte von Klaus was taking control of her life.

Given her weird episode with Brooke in the car, and the fact that Georgia had pretty much fallen off the face of the earth with Valerie, the time had come for Charlotte to fend for herself. She’d just find Caleb, and ask him face-to-face why he’d agreed to go to the Midsummer Ball with Valerie.

After one last check in the bathroom mirror, to make sure her long, red curls were presentable, she marched out
and headed toward the billiards room. Her sandals made little squishy noises on the marble.
Ugh.
Hopefully Caleb wouldn’t be in the middle of a game right now. But then, he sucked at pool, so the odds were in her favor. He usually sat off to the side while the Robby Miller crew dominated. She could already hear Robby’s boisterous laugh.

Charlotte turned the corner, and skidded to a stop.
Whoa.

For a split-second she stood there, processing the scene. It was unexpected, to say the least. Sure the usual pool boys were there. But Caleb was conspicuously absent. And most unexpected of all was that
Ethan
was there, for once not in his tennis whites…and he was with Valerie. As in
with
, with. He stood behind her, guiding her hands as she leaned over the pool table, showing her how to aim the cue. She kept giggling. She was wearing a strapless pink dress that showed off her bronze tan, and she was sort of mashing her butt against Ethan’s body as she pretended to try to shoot the ball.

Charlotte blinked. She took a few steps back and then rounded the corner, leaning against the wall. Weirdly, she felt a sudden, relieved warmth welling up inside her.

So. Valerie wasn’t interested in Caleb. Nor was she interested in Marcus. She was interested in
Ethan.
Not that this was good, per se. It sucked for Georgia; that was for sure. So…why couldn’t Charlotte stop smiling?

Maybe she knew why. She wasn’t quite ready to acknowledge it yet, but Charlotte wondered if she maybe
kind of almost wanted to kiss Caleb again. That Spin the Bottle game had been one thing, but then that time in the bar in DC…something about Caleb’s kisses made Charlotte’s heart sing. So she didn’t want him kissing Valerie. Or anyone else, for that matter. At all.

Not sure why she was doing what she was doing, Charlotte dug through her bag and fished out her new pink Moto Razr (a divorce-guilt gift from Dad). She took a deep breath, programmed the picture-snapping option, and kicked off her sandals as to avoid any squeaking or squishing. She’d have to make this fast.…
Three, two, one—Go!
In a single move, she ducked low around the corner, snapped a quick picture of Ethan and Valerie snuggling over their pool game, then jammed her feet back into her sandals and bolted down the hall. Her sandals smacked on the floor, and she held her breath, hoping no one had seen—

“Yo, Charlotte! Wait up! Where’re you running off to?”

Great.

She sighed and turned. Robby Miller waved from the far end of the hall. “I thought I saw you. Come here.” He turned his baseball cap backward, straightening his white T-shirt. “I was just talking about you.”

Charlotte shot a quick glance toward the door. “I—I really need to get back to my car, Robby. Stella is waiting for me.”

Robby smirked, swaggering down the hall toward her. “You don’t want to hear what I was saying about you?”

In spite of herself, Charlotte grinned. Robby actually
looked…well, sort of cute tonight. At least he didn’t look like he was auditioning for a Wu-Tang reunion video.

Charlotte crossed her arms over her chest, still clutching her cell phone. “All right, Robby. What did you say?”

His smile widened as he glanced down at her purple toenails. He stopped in front of her and raised his eyes.

“I was
saying
—that there are no real chicks at this country club.”

Charlotte burst out laughing. She couldn’t help it. “Well, gee, Robby. Thanks so much. You really know how to sweet-talk a lady. If the chicks here are so heinous, why don’t you just go back to Kenwood?”

He pursed his lips and shook his head. “Nah, woman—you gotta let me finish. For one thing, the chicks at Kenwood are all skanks. Not like you.”

Charlotte shook her head. “Excuse me?”

“Listen up.” He lowered his voice, glancing back over his shoulder toward the billiards room. “I know Valerie thinks she’s all that. Just because she’s fine. But you’re
real
, girl. You’re a thousand times better than her. I was talking to Johnny about this exact thing. I’m just sick of these chicks with egos, know what I’m sayin’?”

Charlotte felt her face flushing with pleasure at Robby’s words, and he held her gaze, smiling at her. She remembered how he’d struck her as surprisingly insightful during their impromptu lunch together, and now she once again felt a swell of fondness toward him. She’d known Robby Miller forever—almost as long as she’d known Caleb—but, unlike Caleb, Robby had never stood out from the
crowd, never struck Charlotte as anything other than a typical pool boy. But this summer, everything was different. Charlotte suddenly felt like she’d grown a new pair of eyes, and was seeing everyone—Brooke, Georgia, Caleb—as if she’d never known any of them before. Which was kind of freaky—and might warrant an extra session with Dr. Gilmore.

But right now all Charlotte saw was Robby. Her lingering confusion over Caleb, the sense of flattery that was washing over her, and the undeniable adorableness of Robby’s crooked smile all came together at once, making Charlotte’s stomach jump and her feet move, impossibly, toward Robby.

“You don’t need to…” she told him shakily. “I mean…you don’t have to say those things.”

Robby shrugged one shoulder. “Hey, I’m serious, Charlotte.” He glanced down, seeming to drop his usual bravado. “Just…thought I’d tell you.”

“Well, thanks, Robby.” Feeling bold and crazy and a little
why-not?
, Charlotte came even closer to him and planted a kiss on his surprisingly warm, smooth cheek. Before she could pull back, though, Robby rested a hand on her arm. Their eyes met briefly and then, suddenly, she and Robby Miller were kissing.
Really
kissing. There they stood, their arms sliding around each other, in the hall outside the billiards room of Silver Oaks, where anyone—Ethan, Valerie—could come out to find them. But Charlotte didn’t care. Kissing Robby didn’t feel as
right
as
kissing Caleb—Robby’s style was a little aggressive for her tastes—but she was still loving the feel of it.

Then, as Robby moved his hand slowly down her back, and his lips slid off her mouth down toward her neck, Charlotte realized they were moving from
kissing
mode to
making out
mode, and there was definitely a difference.

She drew back, catching her breath, and Robby stared at her, looking as shocked as she felt.

“I—shouldn’t—” Charlotte tried to get the words out, but Robby shook his head.

“Charlotte, it’s okay—” Robby said, taking a step toward her.

“I have to go,” Charlotte mumbled. “Stella—Stella’s waiting in the car…”

And with that, Charlotte spun around and fled toward the door. She burst outside, into the pouring rain, and ran in her noisy sandals to her car. Her heart felt as if it would pop right out of her chest. Hunching her shoulders against the cold raindrops, she fumbled with her keys, finally unlocking the door and sliding inside. Stella was whining on the backseat. He scrambled up as soon as Charlotte got in the car, distressed at having been left alone for so long with nothing to watch but the rain.

Charlotte tried to take deep, calming breaths.
Why did I do that?
She’d just been thinking about how much she liked kissing
Caleb…
Was that why she’d randomly attacked Robby Miller? And, yes, he’d kissed her back. But…

Nothing made sense.

Charlotte noticed that she was still gripping her cell phone in her fist. Suddenly, she remembered the picture of Ethan and Valerie and wanted to burst out laughing. What was
with
her tonight? Ducking around taking furtive photos, kissing boys out of nowhere?

At least there was one thing Charlotte knew she could do, she thought as she petted a distraught Stella and then turned the key in the ignition. She was going straight to Brooke’s house to show her the picture. Charlotte didn’t want Georgia to see the cruel evidence, but maybe Brooke could shed some light on the situation.

Charlotte only hoped she wouldn’t be stirring up more trouble.

I broke an Unspoken Rule.

Georgia stared at herself in the cabana bathroom mirror. Rain thudded on the roof—a hard, steady, summer rain. Night had melted into morning, and Georgia had finally summoned the courage to drive to Silver Oaks. She’d secretly hoped Valerie would be there. But her new buddy was spending the day with her brother, Sebastian. So now Georgia was left hiding out in the cabana when, according to
another
Unspoken Rule, she should have been hanging out in the billiards room with her two best friends.

She’d spent most of last night sobbing into her pillow, and this morning, she still felt like a zombie. Too bad the nightmarish, fluorescent cabana light didn’t improve her mood much. Eons ago, she and Brooke and Charlotte had even coined a name for it: “the Uglifier.” But then, Georgia would have looked ugly to herself no matter where she was. She couldn’t understand what Marcus—or any guy—could see in her.

And why couldn’t this goddamn rain ever stop?

I just have to tell Brooke the truth
, Georgia decided. She sniffled and rubbed her eyes, then ran a hand through
her hair. She smoothed her green Tommy Hilfiger tank and tugged on her linen A-line skirt.
It’s not that big a deal, is it? Maybe she’s already over him. Or not.

The worst part was that Georgia didn’t trust Marcus. He was a good kisser, yes, but so were most players. And she didn’t want Brooke getting hurt by him in the end.

Thank God Ethan got the day off when it rained. She knew she couldn’t deal with bumping into him right now. But she also knew she couldn’t hide in the cabana forever. Eventually, she’d have to emerge and find Brooke.

“Georgia?”

And speak of the devil.

“Hey,” Georgia breathed.

Brooke stood in the bathroom doorway, dripping with rain. For once, she wasn’t coiffed and made-up. Her black hair was in disarray—and she was wearing
sneakers.
(Metallic Pumas, yes, but still.) She’d also thrown on an old Silver Oaks windbreaker, one she hadn’t worn in a very long time. Georgia almost smiled. Two summers ago, on a rainy day like today, in a fit of juvenile regression and boredom, Georgia, Brooke, and Charlotte had taken turns scribbling dumb, snarky little phrases in eyeliner next to the silver S. O. monogram, and then scrubbing them off.
S.O.
YESTERDAY…S.O. NOT COOL…S.O. WHAT?…Eventually they’d damaged the waterproof nylon. Georgia could still see a dark stain to the right of the letters.

“You’re a hard person to track down these days,”
Brooke stated coldly. “I’ve barely seen you since the season started.”

Georgia swallowed. “I know, Brooke. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you hanging out with Marcus and Valerie 24/7?”

Georgia clenched her fists at her sides. The vow she’d made to be honest with Brooke about the Marcus situation slipped away as quickly as she’d made it, and for no logical reason she could explain. All she knew was that she didn’t feel sad or guilty anymore. She felt trapped and angry and accused, and pulled in about a dozen different directions.

“Georgia, is this about Ethan?” Brooke asked, softening her tone. She avoided Georgia’s gaze, choosing to stare at her friendship bracelet instead. “I know that you still like him. So there’s something I need to tell you about him and Valerie.”

“What are you talking about?” Georgia’s heart froze.

Brooke tucked a damp strand of hair behind her ear. “Valerie’s into him,” she said. “And I can prove it.”

Georgia rolled her eyes. She almost laughed. She’d always known Brooke was manipulative, but she’d never imagined she would out-and-out lie. “Brooke, please. Give it up.”

“Whatever. I’m just saying that you should talk to Charlotte. She has some information you might find interesting.”

“Well, what if I don’t
want
to talk to Charlotte?”
Georgia took a deep breath and stepped away from the mirror. “Listen, it’s fine that you and Charlotte like to create drama wherever you go. I respect that. But
I’m
not like that. Okay?”

Brooke withdrew, clearly stung. “I’m not creating drama,” she breathed.

Georgia’s lips trembled. “You want to know something?” She felt as if she were standing outside herself, watching someone else. “Valerie actually thinks you’re cool. She wants to get to know you—and Charlotte. But you guys are
so
exclusive—”

“Well, maybe we’d be nicer to her if she stopped throwing herself at every boy in Silver Oaks—” Brooke began in her iciest voice.

“Look, she’s not interested in Marcus, okay?” Georgia cut Brooke off. Saying his name made her limbs shake, but she tried to remain firm. “And I don’t think he’s interested in her.”

“What makes you so sure?” Brooke challenged, but Georgia thought she could see a glimmer of hope in her hazel eyes. That made Georgia feel even worse.

“I—I don’t want to talk about it now,” Georgia said, spinning around to face the mirror. She felt on the verge of bursting into tears, but she hated to let Brooke see her break down.

“Fine,” Brooke snapped, and in her peripheral vision Georgia could see her turning away. “So maybe we shouldn’t talk anymore…Period.”

“Fine,” Georgia echoed, her voice coming out trembly.
She shut her eyes and waited until she heard Brooke stomp away, her sneakers squeaking on the linoleum.

Georgia opened her eyes and stared at her bleak reflection in the mirror. She felt awful having spoken to Brooke like that, but what bothered her the most about their argument was the tiny, niggling seed of doubt Brooke had planted.

What if Valerie
was
into Ethan? And what if he was into her, too? And if so, was there anything on earth Georgia could do about it?