The Shore (11 page)

Finally, the dishes were done. Lucas turned off the water after handing the last plate to April to dry.

“It's a good thing this is the last dish,” April said. “I'm tired. I'm going upstairs.”

“Sleep tight.” Avery waved.

“Nice doing dishes with you,” Lucas joked.

“I'm going to bed too,” Polly said with a yawn. “See you in the morning.”

A minute later Avery and Lucas were alone in the kitchen. She hopped up on one of the counters, not feeling at all tired. “That seemed to go well. I mean, except for Owen.”

“Yeah.” Lucas leaned against the opposite countertop.

He'd changed into a white T-shirt and khaki shorts. “I'm glad we got together.”

They exchanged smiles. Avery had a fleeting image of Curt rehearsing with his band. Should she have gone with him, to be supportive? The truth was, she'd rather be here. She glanced again at Lucas. The dreadlocks were a shock the first time you saw them, but it didn't take long to get used to them. And there was something sexy about the contrast of his light-colored shirt and shorts against his tan.

“Just graduate high school?” Lucas asked.

Avery blinked and realized she'd been drifting. “Yes,” she answered. “You?”

He nodded.

“College in the fall?” she asked.

“I . . . guess.” Lucas seemed to hesitate.

“Where?”

“Not sure yet. How about you?”

“I'll be going to a JC,” she said. “There aren't any four-year schools close enough that I can commute to. If I start out at a JC, I can still be close to Curt.”

“You two been together long?”

“A couple of years.”

“The two of you could go away to college together.”

“Curt go to college?” She laughed, and in so doing, leaned back and hit her head hard on the edge of the cabinets. “Ouch!” she said, her hand flying to her head.

Lucas stepped toward her. “Here, let me take a look,” he said.

“No, I'm fine. I just bumped it,” she said.

“Some bump,” he said. “You hit the cabinet so hard, I'm surprised the whole thing didn't fall down. I better take a look. Besides, I used to be a lifeguard. I'm trained to look for dangerous bumps and bruises.”

And just like that, his hands were on her head, gently parting her hair. Their faces were only inches apart. Avery's heart suddenly began to pound, and she licked her dry lips. She imagined him taking her in his arms and kissing her. It was just an idle thought, but she wanted him to do it.

“So you're not sure if you're going to college, or is it where?” she asked, trying to focus on something else. His touch was almost a caress. This wasn't supposed to be happening, but at the same time, she didn't want him to stop.

“Depends on who decides,” Lucas said. “If my parents have any say in it, the if and where are already a done deal.”

His hands found the place where she had hit her head, and she winced. “You don't sound too excited.”

“Let's just say I'd rather forge my own path, and I'm not sure college fits into my plans right now.”

“And working for Habitat for Humanity does?” she said.

Lucas's eyebrows rose. His eyes met hers. Clearly Avery had caught him off guard. “How do you know about that?”

“I saw you while I was shopping with Polly,” Avery said. “Don't get me wrong. I think it's cool that you're trying to help out.”

“Thanks.” Once again he moved his fingers softly through her hair as if reluctant to let go. “Everything looks okay here. The skin isn't broken or anything.”

He started to pull his hand away, but she didn't want him to. As if it had a will of its own, her hand reached up and grabbed his wrist, holding him close. They stared into each other's eyes, then Lucas's lips began to move toward hers.

Before either of them could move or say anything more, the front door opened and Curt entered.

• • •

Lucas was fully aware that he'd kept his fingers in Avery's hair longer than necessary. He was aware that if Curt hadn't come in just then, he would have kissed her. He'd wanted to touch her since he'd first seen her the day before. The words “soft” and “pretty” described both the girl and her hair, and he had to remind himself that he already had enough on his mind this summer without having the headache of messing with another guy's girlfriend.

And yet . . . there was something about her.

Almost irresistible.

At the sound of the door opening, Lucas backed quickly away from Avery. Avery slid off the counter and went to greet her boyfriend. Lucas wasn't sure what Curt had seen, and now he saw a suspicious look in Curt's eye and braced himself. But Curt's attention went to his girlfriend, and Lucas felt a strange mixture of relief and jealousy as the handsome scraggly rocker took Avery in his arms and gave her a hug.

“So what's up?” Curt asked.

“Just talking,” Avery said brightly, as if she too was relieved that he hadn't noticed how close she and Lucas had come. “Did you have a good rehearsal?”

Curt's eyes lit up. “Great news. Darek got us a gig. One of those sunset concerts in the park. It's free, but it's the kind of exposure we need.”

“Curt, that's awesome,” she said, flinging her arms around his neck. Lucas turned away, thinking back to what she'd said
about Habitat for Humanity. So she'd seen him while shopping.

“When's the show?” Avery was asking Curt.

“Two weeks.”

“See, I knew good things would happen here,” she said.

Lucas knew it was time to leave them alone. “That's awesome, bro,” he said, offering Curt his hand. As Curt shook it, his eyes hardened slightly. “Thanks.”

Lucas crossed the living room and headed for his room. He'd made a mistake, but fortunately it was a small one. Just the same, he wouldn't make it again.

Four

Polly checked her watch while she waited for Avery at the bottom of the stairs. It had been two weeks since she'd helped get Avery a job at The Seashell Restaurant. And every morning it was the same thing: Polly always up early and waiting. She knew she wasn't waking early because she was so eager to go to work. It was Avery she was eager to see. Avery, who was the nicest and sweetest friend she'd ever had.

I'll give her another five minutes, then I'll knock on her door,
she thought, just as she did every morning. The minutes ticked by. Just as she was about to start up the stairs, Avery's door opened and she came out, closing it behind her.

Polly breathed a sigh of relief. She didn't want to be responsible for waking up Curt. That was definitely not her idea of fun.

“Am I late?” Avery said.

“No,” Polly answered.

They smiled at each other. It had become a routine, a private
joke they shared. As Avery came quietly down the stairs she glanced over at one of the sofas and saw something that was not routine. “He been there all night?”

Polly turned. Owen was sprawled on a couch. She hadn't noticed him before. Then again, she hadn't seen much of him recently. He was out partying every night and, she suspected, not always home in the morning. His clothes were badly wrinkled and stained in a few places. He was unshaven and a mess,
and
had drooled onto the couch. Polly winced. “Do you think we should wake him?”

Avery shook her head as she headed for the front door. “Best to just let him sleep it off.”

“We've lived in the same house for two weeks and I'm not sure I've ever seen him sober after three in the afternoon,” Polly said as she and Avery left the house and stepped out into the morning sunlight. “You think he's an alcoholic?”

“I hope not,” Avery said.

A minute later they were walking down the beach, their shoes tucked into their tote bags. The sand squished between Polly's toes in a pleasing way. It was just after ten, and the beach was starting to fill up with families under the brightly colored umbrellas.

As usual when they walked to work, Polly dropped her eyes to the sand, searching for shells. She had only found one really good one, so far—it was the size of a baseball and black with gold streaks—and she kept it in a place of honor on her dresser
in between a picture of her parents and another one of her grandparents.

“You're quiet today,” Avery said, interrupting her thoughts.

Polly looked up quickly. “Sorry.”

“No, it's cool, you're just usually more talkative. Everything okay?”

“Fine,” Polly lied. In reality, things were far from fine. Every day all around her it seemed like everyone else was partying, hooking up, and even getting into relationships.
Why can't I just meet a nice guy?

“How's the man-hunt going?” Avery asked with a grin.

Polly blushed, surprised that Avery had seemed to read her mind. “Not as well as I'd like,” she admitted.

“What about Fred? He likes you.”

“But nobody likes him,” said Polly.

“That's not true,” Avery said. “Just a few big mouths in our house.”

“Yeah, but I have to live with them,” Polly said. And, anyway, she didn't want to talk about it, and the best way was to change the subject. “What about you?”

“Me?” Avery asked, caught by surprise. “I'm with Curt.”

“You never wonder about other guys?” Polly asked.

“Who?” Avery asked.

“Anthony?”

“Our manager Anthony?” Avery asked bewildered. He was the manager of The Seashell and therefore her boss.

“Yeah, he's gorgeous, and I think he likes you.”

Avery laughed. “No way.”

“Come on, even I'm not that naive,” Polly said. “He's so obviously into you. Why else would he tell you that you were too pretty to be a waitress and make you the hostess?”

“Uh, maybe because he saw immediately that I'd make a terrible waitress and he couldn't think of anything else for me to do?” Avery said.

“Nice try, Ave,” Polly scoffed. “
You're
not that naive either. Now don't make a big deal about it. It's not your fault you're beautiful and men fawn over you.”

“That's not true.”

“Which part?” Polly asked. “That you're beautiful, or that men can't help fawning over you?”

“Uh, both?”

“Sorry, even Lucas stares at you sometimes.”

“He does?” Avery asked, sounding surprised.

Polly shook her head. It was ridiculous that Avery didn't know this. “They
all
do, Avery. Even the ones who pretend not to.”

“I guess I just don't notice,” Avery admitted.

“Well, do me a favor and from now on, notice a little. It's frustrating that you don't even enjoy it. I would kill to get a tenth of the attention you get.”

“I'm sorry,” Avery said.

“Don't be sorry, just don't pretend it's not happening,” Polly said, surprised at her own bluntness.

“Okay, but seriously, I
am
sorry about the hostessing thing,” Avery said.

“Well, at least as a waitress I get tips,” Polly said, trying to make Avery feel better. “And don't forget, if there's a party of six, I automatically get fifteen percent.”

“Right,” Avery said, grinning. “Would it help if I steered the larger groups to your tables?”

“As long as the other waitresses don't notice, that would be great. Thanks!” Polly said, thinking,
I may not have met a guy but at least I've made a friend. Things could be worse.

“I don't think I ever thanked you properly for getting me the job,” Avery said.

“You're welcome,” Polly said.

“No, I owe you. Suppose I make it my mission to help find you a guy.”

“Serious?” Polly asked, excitement running through her.

“Dead serious. If I can't find a guy in this town who would want to be with a sweet and pretty girl like you, then there is no justice in this world.”

Polly hugged Avery. “That would be the best present ever.”

Avery patted her shoulder. “You deserve it.”

A few minutes later they arrived at the restaurant. The exterior was made up of dark wood and brass, and a sign declared in delicate pink letters the seashell restaurant. Large, round windows rimmed in brass faced the beach and the surrounding pier. There was an indoor seating area and an outdoor one. The tables
and chairs outside stood on a deck that ran halfway around the restaurant.

Next door was the Surfin' Spot, a bar with live music where a lot of people, including Owen and his friends, often hung out. The bar was always loud and rowdy with people crammed inside and out. Anthony managed both places.

Polly slipped on her white Keds and Avery a pair of white strappy sandals. They climbed the steps that led up to the pier and to the entrance to The Seashell. Inside, the air was cool and the lighting muted. The nautical theme carried on with starfish, large shells, and red plastic lobsters scattered among fishnets hanging from the ceiling. Three other waitresses were already seated at a table, all wearing the same pale pink skirt and midriff shirt that Polly had on. Being a redhead, Polly had always avoided wearing pink and she knew that the outfit didn't look that great on her. As hostess, Avery wore a simple, strapless, white cotton dress that offset her smooth shoulders. Polly would gladly have changed places with her.

Anthony, the manager, came out of the kitchen and ran an eye over all of them. He was just over six feet tall and had the sandy blond hair and tan that would have made him look like a beach bum were it not for the pleated linen white pants and a white long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. As Polly had said, he was gorgeous.

“Okay, ladies,” Anthony said, addressing them all. “We open in twenty minutes. Susie, Sandy, and Sarah will work the
dining room for lunch. Polly, you work the deck, and if Terry ever shows up, she'll be out there with you.”