Summer of Seventeen (17 page)

I winced. I guess Julia hadn’t gotten around to telling him that newsflash. I was grateful, even if the reasons she’d kept it from him weren’t exactly unselfish. My guess was that she didn’t want to tell him that I’d fucked another girl at a party, in case it reminded him that she’d had a thing for Marcus, or made him think that cheating ran in the family. For all I knew, it did.

“Yeah,” Julia said quietly. “Actually, they broke up.”

Oh.

“You’re kidding?” I could hear the disbelief in Ben’s voice. “I thought they were solid. It’s obvious he’s crazy about her.”

“I know. He’s been so miserable since she dumped him.”

I really hated that freakin’ word
.

“Wow. Poor Nicky. What happened?”

God, I was so hoping he wouldn’t ask that.

“I’m not really sure.”
Thanks, sis.
“But you know girls are always throwing themselves at Nicky. Thank God he’s totally oblivious half the time.”

Huh?

“Sounds like Nicky.”

What girls? Other than Erin?

There was another pause. “So … what are you going to do about your renter.”

“I don’t know.”

“You could always ask him to leave.”

Julia sighed. “We need the money.”

“You’ll find someone else to rent the room…”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. I mean, the season’s already started and what if I couldn’t find someone? Besides, I don’t think Marcus plans on leaving town, so he’d still be around.”

I knew that Julia had already had ‘the talk’ with Marcus and decided to let him stay, although it didn’t sound like she was admitting that to Ben. Basically, she’d told Marcus that he was a bad influence on me, encouraging me to drink, smoke, and treat women like shit.

I only knew because he told me. He got a big ole laugh out of it, too.

I’d gotten a version of the same talk direct from Julia—the whole, “Marcus isn’t someone you can rely on,” speech.

Just because he turned her down.

No matter what she said, I still thought that was what happened. But I was in no position to get all judgey on her ass. Or his.

I wasn’t in any shape to criticize how other people lived their lives.

The next time I saw Camille, she was screaming at my sister.

Wait, let me back up.

It was a night when I wasn’t working at the Sandbar. I was meeting up with Sean and we were going to make the most of a small swell at Jetty Park before hitting up some party that he’d heard about. Lacey was going to be there and he wanted to get laid. I’d already decided not to get shit-faced; no way I was going to let another situation like the one with Erin happen again.

I was still texting Yansi every day, even though she never replied. But Ben was back with my sister, so maybe I’d get a second chance, too.

Julia was in a good mood. She and Ben were going out on a date, which shocked the hell out of me because they never went out. Anyway, she’d gotten all dressed up and was hyper and excited. It was slightly unnerving seeing her like that, especially because she was wearing a short, clingy dress and a ton of makeup, but it was nice to see her happy for a change, too. She was even being pleasant to Marcus.

He was in the kitchen cooking. Not heating shit up like Julia did, but actual cooking. I didn’t know he knew how. I could make eggs, so long as they were scrambled, and I could make pancakes from a packet mix. But he was chopping vegetables and even doing something with a bag of a mixed greens. I was impressed. He said it was because Camille was French so cooking mattered to her. I thought she was Italian because she said ‘Ciao’ but Marcus said everyone in Europe said that, even the Germans. I wasn’t sure I believed him, but that’s what he said.

Julia was impressed, too. She couldn’t cook for shit.

I was sitting in the backyard drinking a soda, waiting for Sean, while Julia was waiting for Ben to text her that he was outside.

I pulled out my phone and sent my daily text to Yansi.

* Miss you *

I knew she wouldn’t answer, but it made me feel connected to her in some small way.

Julia was ragging on Marcus, not in a mean way, but like they were friends. It was nice. Relaxing. It felt good having no tension in the house for once.

“So who’s the lucky woman tonight?”

“Camille.”

I could hear Julia’s laugh float out through the open door.

“Wow! The same one for over a week! Is that a record?”

“Yep. Same girl. Have you got a bigger saucepan?”

“In the other cabinet. So, Camille, huh? What does she do?”

“She’s a nurse.”

I could hear the surprise in Julia’s voice. “Oh! That’s … great.”

There was a knock at the front door and Marcus went to answer it.

I could hear Camille’s sexy accent down the hall.

“I have brought wine—a Bordeaux. I thought we should certainly have good wine if you are cooking and the food is bad.”

“Who says the food will be bad?”

“You did. You said you can’t cook. And you’re American.”

They walked into the kitchen where Julia was still waiting for Ben.

“Who is this?” snapped Camille. “You live with a
woman
?” Her voice was outraged. “Who is this tramp?” And then she screamed several things in French.

Marcus was surprisingly calm. If it had been me, I’d have been looking for a Kevlar vest.

“No, I mean yes I live with her, but … this is Julia. She’s my landlady. I told you about her.”

“Landladies are old women!” scoffed Camille. “She is not so old!”

I badly wanted to laugh, but I wondered if Julia would let rip. I was amazed when she didn’t.

“Honestly, Camille,” sniffed Julia as she checked her phone, “he’s all yours. Good luck with that—you’ll need it. Right, I’m out of here. I’m meeting Ben. My boyfriend. Have a nice evening.”

The front door slammed, but the kitchen was silent.

“Babe…”

“She really is your landlady? You are not sleeping with her? I don’t share, Marcus. You know this. It is, how you say, a deal breaker for me.”

I didn’t want to listen to their private conversation, so I coughed loudly before walking back into the kitchen.

“Hi, Camille,” I muttered.

Camille looked surprised then she gave me a small smile. “Ah, the little brother. Hello, Nick.”

“Yeah, I’m out now, too.”

“Party?” asked Marcus, grinning at me.

“Yep, Sean’s giving me a ride.”

“Have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Say hi to Erin.”

He seemed to think that was funny as fuck, so I just nodded and left them standing in the kitchen.

I didn’t have to wait long before Sean showed up. He was in a good mood and tossed his car keys to me.

“You drive. I’m going to get the party started.”

He cracked open a bottle of beer and scooted down into the passenger seat so he couldn’t be spotted by any passing cop cars.

The guy having the party lived over in Palm Bay which was a 20 minute drive away. It was more the kind of place where people played golf than surfed. But Craig was one of the guys who hung out at the pier sometimes.

The house was a large bungalow surrounded by vacant lots. It made it a good place to get rowdy, with no neighbors nearby. Cars were lined up and down the street, and I parked Sean’s so it wouldn’t get blocked in. I had to be at work for 12.00 the next day and I didn’t want some douche to have me stuck there all night. I already knew that Sean wouldn’t be driving home later, so either I had to stay sober or we were sleeping on the floor.

The party was just getting warmed up when we walked in. I said hi to a few people and was getting a nice buzz from my second bottle of beer even though I hadn’t planned on drinking. But then I saw the one person I had no interest in talking to.

“Hi, Nick.”

She stood too close and pulled the beer from my hand, taking a long drink before passing it back. I shook my head and folded my arms across my chest.

“Can’t even share a drink with me, Nicky?”

I sighed and leaned against the wall.

“What do you want, Erin?”

She shrugged. “Nothing. Just wondering how you are. I haven’t seen you around much. You don’t hang with us like you used to.”

“I’ve been working.”

“All work and no play makes Nick a dull boy.”

And she wet her finger in her mouth, then tried to run it down my neck.

“Jesus! What is it with you?” I snapped, pushing her hand away. “I thought we’d already had this conversation? I told you: I’m not interested!”

She pouted and stood with her hands on her hips.

“Just seeing if you changed your mind.”

“Fuck’s sake, no! But thanks to you, neither has Yansi.”

I tried to walk away but she caught my arm.

“I didn’t tell her.”

I shook her loose. “I know. But someone did. So whether you wanted to or not, you fucked things up for me.”

“What’s so special about her anyway?”

For once her tone wasn’t hostile, but resigned, almost weary.”

I was going to brush her off, but she looked so sad. Like I said, I’m a sucker for girls’ tears.

I wanted to give her an answer that would show her that I meant what I said—something that would make her back off once and for all.

“Seeing her … talking to her … even getting a text message from her … it makes my day better.”

Erin’s face fell as I pushed away through the crowd, snagging another bottle of beer as I went.

I sat outside and chugged it back, trying to wipe the last few minutes from my mind. I probably needed bleach. Talking about Yansi hurt too much. I closed my eyes and leaned back.

A bunch of people were jumping in the pool, guys canon-balling to splash water over the girls. I recognized one of them: Emma from the Sandbar. Her rose tattoo stood out. Only a few of the older guys had tats, but none of the girls. I wanted to get one but Mom would never let me. I guess I could do whatever I liked now, but it just didn’t seem important anymore.

She must have recognized me because she came and sat next to me.

“Hey, Nick. How’s it going?”

“Yeah, good.”

We sat in awkward silence for a moment. I was hyper-aware of a pretty girl sitting by my side in a wet bikini.

I shifted uncomfortably and tried not to notice that her nipples were staring at me like a couple of car headlights.

“Is Marcus here?” she asked at last.

Oh fuck, yes! Distract me with words.

“No.”

More words, please!

“Oh? You guys seem to be joined at the hip these days. Is he seeing his girlfriend?”

I glanced across at her. She didn’t seem upset. Thank fuck for that. I couldn’t deal with two moody girls in one night.

“I don’t know,” I said, lying through my teeth. “Maybe.”

She smiled. “Oh, you think I care!” Then she laughed. “No, I can spot a player a mile away, although he seems to be really into that French girl. You’re more my type.”

She grinned at my expression.

“Don’t worry. I nearly peed myself when Marcus told me you were only 17—I’m definitely no cougar!”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I didn’t even know how old she was: 21 or 22, maybe.

She nudged my shoulder. “Don’t freak out.”

“I’m not,” I mumbled, shaking my head and taking another long drink of my beer.

She laughed loudly, causing several heads to turn in our direction.

“You really are too cute for words. Enjoy the party, Nick.”

As she sauntered away, I had to squeeze my eyes shut. That ass in that bikini.

I was kind of mad at myself—it was Yansi that I wanted, not Emma. But my body wasn’t listening. Stupid fucker was the one who’d gotten me into this mess in the first place.

I was so tempted to get trashed, but I didn’t. Sean tried to make me join in a game of beer pong but I waved him off and said I’d catch up later. I finished my beer, tossed the empty, and went to hunt down a game of pool.

When I got there, Emma was bent over the pool table, her tight ass waving at me. Then she looked over her shoulder and winked.

I spent the next two hours getting thrashed and losing horribly—sometimes I really thought God hated me. It was mutual.

The box was a plastic crate, the kind that they sell at Walmart to put kids toys in. At least it had kept out the worst of the Florida humidity from where it was stored in Mom’s garage.