The Trouble With Flirting (8 page)

“Let me see it,” Alex says. “Maybe I can pull it out cleanly.”

“If I can just find a place to sit down, I can do it.” I look for a nearby bench or rock.

Alex ignores me. “Julia, support her. Isabella, grab her leg and help me get it a little higher.” Before I know it, my foot is being hauled way up high. I’m still protesting that I can take
care of this myself, but no one’s listening to me.

“Anyone have a pair of tweezers?” Vanessa asks, moving in to get a closer look.

“Why would anyone bring a pair of tweezers to the beach?” Julia says.

“You never know.”

“My mom keeps a first-aid kit in her car,” Lawrence says, peering over Vanessa’s shoulder.

“That would be useful information if your mother’s car were
here
,” says Julia.

“You guys are blocking my light. Move back, will you?” Alex is cradling my shin firmly in the palm of his left hand, angling it around to try to get the best view of my foot. His hand is warm.

I’d be lying if I said I’ve never imagined feeling Alex’s hand on my leg.

Sadly, that daydream didn’t include a throng of people staring at us.

“Hold it steady,” Alex says to Isabella, like my leg has nothing to do with me, everything to do with her.

“Yes, doctor,” she says, and they share a quick smile.

He lightly touches his index finger to the skin near where the glass entered my foot, and I yelp again.

“Sorry,” Alex says. “Okay. One quick pull. You ready, Franny?” He bends over my foot, but then—

“What’s going on?” A new voice. We all look up.

It’s Marie. She’s got a big beach bag on one arm and her
pudgy boyfriend, James, on the other.

“Franny stepped on a piece of glass,” Alex explains.

James makes a little clucking noise of sympathy.

Julia says, “What are you guys doing here?”

“I decided a day at the beach sounded like fun, so James drove us here to meet up with you guys.” Marie turns to Harry. “I don’t see
you
helping out with this operation.”

“I’m providing moral support,” he says airily. “It’s a very challenging job.”

“You trying to be moral? I’m sure it is,” she counters archly.

“Will you please just take it out?” Julia snaps at Alex. “Or am I supposed to stand here all day holding her up?”

“Okay. For real this time.” He bends over me, and I feel his fingers on my foot and there’s a stinging moment of pain, and then . . . less pain. “Got it!” he says, and holds up a small sliver of green glass for everyone to see.

He and Isabella release my leg, and I balance carefully on my toe. “And to think I’ve always loved sea glass,” I say. “I even have a collection. But it turned against me.”

Alex says, “You guys go find a spot on the beach and put your towels down. Harry and I can carry Franny.”

Lawrence and Vanessa head down toward the beach.

“You don’t need to carry me!” I say. God, it keeps getting more and more embarrassing. “Seriously, I can just hop. It’s a tiny little wound. I’m fine.”

They ignore me.

“How should we do this?” Harry asks Alex. “Shoulders and knees? Crossed arms under her?”

“Do you need another set of hands?” asks James.

Alex shakes his head. “For tiny little Franny? Nah.”

“I could probably just pick her up by myself,” Harry says.

“Oh, listen to the big strong man,” Julia says. “We’re all really impressed over here.”

“Fine. I’ll show you.” Before I can even say anything, he’s pushing her and Isabella out of the way and scooping me up in his arms. His biceps bulge. I know because I’m looking right at them. I wonder if he works out a lot.

What am I saying? This is Harry—of
course
he works out a lot.

“Put me down!” I say. “I can walk.”

“Stop wriggling,” Harry says. “Or we’ll both fall on our faces.”

Alex frowns. “Let me help. It’s hard to walk in the sand, and if you fall, you could hurt her.”

“I’m fine,” Harry says. “If everybody would just get out of my way . . .” He takes an unsteady step toward the ocean. “It would help if you’d put your arms around my neck.” His voice sounds a little strained.

“Sorry.” I sling one arm around his neck and the other in front and clasp my fingers loosely together.

“Tighter,” he says.

So I tighten my arms around his shoulders. It feels uncomfortably like I’m hugging him. “I really could walk.. . .”

“I know. I’m proving a point here.”

“Why?”

He tilts his head back so he can look at me. We’re both wearing sunglasses, so I can’t see how green his eyes are, and I feel a funny twinge of regret at the lost opportunity to see them up close. Julia’s always talking about how beautiful his eyes are, but I’ve made it a point not to spend too much time staring at him. He’s vain enough as it is. “You know, there are girls who wouldn’t act like this was some kind of punishment,” he says.

“I’m sorry. It’s really nice of you. I’m just embarrassed.”

His arms tighten under my shoulders and knees. “Well, don’t be.” He staggers and lurches to the side with a swear, but steadies himself before we both go down. “Hole in the sand. Some stupid kid just left it like that. Sorry.”

“Nice save.”

“Thank you. Just think of me as your personal savior. And here we are.. . .”

Is it weird that I’m sort of sorry we got here so fast? That I was starting to enjoy my ride in Harry’s arms? Yeah, it’s weird. Forget it.

“Now I just have to figure out how to put you down. Hold on, I’ve got it.. . .” He drops to his knees so I’m pretty much sitting on his lap. I quickly scoot off him and onto the towels. “I’m fairly hopeful you’re going to survive this injury, Franny.”

“Unless gangrene sets in.”

“Gangrene always sets in,” he says darkly.

“What are you talking about?” asks Julia as they all gather around us again. “No one gets gangrene anymore.”

“They do in old books. If Franny were a Hemingway heroine or something, gangrene would set in and she’d lose her leg. Or her life.”

“But I’d be very attractive on my deathbed,” I add.

Alex touches my shoulder. “How’s the foot feeling?”

“Fine. Really.”

“Don’t try to walk on the sand. You don’t want to grind something in there while it’s still an open wound.” He looks around. “Anyone want to go in the water?”

“Not me,” Julia says. “It’s freezing.”

“You never like to go in the ocean,” Alex says.

“Because it’s always freezing. Give me a heated pool any day.”

“You’re so spoiled.”

“You’re just as spoiled, so don’t pretend you’re not.”

“Hey, look, volleyball,” Vanessa says, pointing to a net that’s set up a little ways down the beach. A bunch of other Mansfield students are already there, stripping off shirts and kicking off their sandals. “I’m going to go play. Anyone else?”

“Me,” says Lawrence. He glances back. “You sure you’re okay, Franny?”

“I’m so beyond okay that I’m going to scream if anyone else asks me that.”

“Okay. Bye.” He trots after Vanessa, slipping his T-shirt up and over his head as his feet slide in the sand. His thin shoulders are so white they’re practically translucent in the sun.

“Harry?” Julia says.

He’s already made himself comfortable on the towel next to me, his legs stretched out, his face turned up to the sun. “Mmmm?” he murmurs absently.

“Want to go for a walk?”

“In a minute. I need to regain my strength. I just saved a girl’s life, you know. Takes a lot out of you.”

Julia drops her beach bag onto one of the towels. “In that case, I’m going to run to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

“
I’m
up for a walk,” Alex says, looking at Isabella, who hesitates and says, “But poor Franny’s stuck here.”

“I’m fine,” I say.

“I’ll hang out here with her,” Harry says.

“So will we,” says James. He’s been carefully arranging a very thick and plush beach blanket on the sand for the last few minutes, and now he settles down on it, pulling a few wrinkles smooth as he makes himself comfortable. He’s wearing baggy swim shorts and an unbuttoned oxford shirt, which reveals a thatch of sandy-colored chest hair and a couple of rolls of waist fat. “Man, that sun’s hot today.”

“Yes, the sun has a way of being like that,” Marie says.

Alex and Isabella tell us they’ll be back soon and wander off down the beach.

I watch them go. He’s inclining his head toward her, listening intently to whatever it is she’s saying. The roar of the ocean makes their conversation instantly private.

“It’s hot,” James says after a moment.

“So you’ve already pointed out,” Marie replies. She’s still standing, her hands on her hips. She kicks a tiny bit of sand at Harry’s legs. He doesn’t seem to notice. She does it again, only with more sand, and he lifts his head and says, “Don’t,” and then goes back to sunbathing and ignoring her. She fidgets a bit, adjusting the waist of the leafy-green sarong she’s wearing around her tiny waist, then looks up and says, “You should drink something, James. You’re sweating like a pig.”

“That’s because it’s hot.”

“Yeah . . . You know what? I just remembered that we passed a coffee shop about two blocks back. I think you should go get us all some nice cold drinks.”

“But we just got settled here.”

“I’m
dying
of thirst.”

He rises reluctantly to his feet. “I wish you’d told me that before.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” She strokes his arm with sudden affection. “You’re so sweet. Get me an iced tea, okay? With lots of ice? And two Splendas? You guys want anything?” This last question is to me and Harry. He orders an iced coffee. I pass.

“I don’t suppose you want to come with me?” James says to Marie.

“I have to keep Franny company.” She slides down onto her knees next to me. “Since she’s stuck here and everyone else wants to take a walk. It would be mean for us all to just leave her.”

“Okay, then, I’m off. I have my phone if you think of anything else you want.”

“Thanks!” Marie says, all smiles and waves. “You’re totally my hero! Come back quickly!”

He struggles through the sand toward the parking lot, stopping a couple of times to take off one of his Sperry boat shoes and shake the sand out of it.

“Got rid of
him
,” Harry says lightly.

Marie shrugs with a little smile.

A few seconds later she shifts around on the blanket and says, “This is boring. Let’s go explore a little, Harry.” She rises to her feet.

“But I’m comfy.”

“Don’t be so lazy.” She reaches down for his hand, and he shrugs and lets her haul him to his feet. Like it’s more work to resist, which maybe it is. Harry definitely takes the easiest path.

Although he did carry me across the hot sand. Got to give him credit for that.

“We’ll be right back,” Marie says to me.

“No worries,” I say. I honestly don’t care.

They head along the beach. As they disappear around the curve, I see Marie’s hand start trailing up Harry’s ridiculously
muscled arm.

I’m alone. I get a book out of my beach bag and try to focus on reading it. Try not to think about Alex and Isabella and how they’ve completely vanished. And what they’re talking about. Or whether they’re even talking at all.

A shadow falls over me: Julia is back.

“Where did everybody go? Where’s Harry?”

“He and Marie went to explore.”

“Are you kidding me? He
just
said he didn’t want to go for a walk!”

“They’ll be back any second.”

She drops down heavily next to me. “She
has
a boyfriend.”

“It’s just a walk, Julia. They’ll be back soon.”

“No, they won’t,” she says miserably. “They’re nowhere in sight.”

“It’s nice just sitting here and reading.”

“Nice for you, maybe.”

I give up and go back to reading my book while Julia digs her fingers into the sand over and over again.

A little while later . . . “I’m back,” gasps a winded James, who hands me a full cardboard drink tray before collapsing down onto his knees on the towels. “Where did Marie go?”

“On a walk with Harry.” Julia fixes James with a stare, like she wants him to realize how wrong this is.

James sits on his butt and adjusts his sunglasses on his
nose. “It’s a little strange to ask someone to get you a drink and then not be there when he gets back.”

“
Very
strange.” Julia rises to her feet. “I’ll go find them and tell them the drinks are here. You stay with Franny.” She runs off across the sand, toward the bend in the beach.

That leaves me alone with James. “So,” I say, because I feel like I have to make conversation, “what are you up to this summer?”

“I’m working at a law firm.”

“Nice. Do you like it?”

“Very much. I’m planning to take a full-time job there when I graduate.” He unwraps a straw and threads it into one of the drinks.

“That’s great,” I say. “What’s it called?”

“Rushport Reeves.”

“Oh, so is this a gift from them?” I point to the beach blanket, which has
Rushport
embroidered on one corner of it.

“No. My last name’s Rushport.” I must look confused, because he adds, “My grandfather’s a founding partner of Rushport Reeves.”

No wonder he has a job waiting for him.

James drinks his coffee and smiles at me pleasantly around the straw. I thumb the pages of my book.

“How’s your foot doing?” he asks as he puts his cup back down.

“Fine, really. I’m tempted to get up and walk around.”

“Best to play it safe,” he says. “Glass, you know.”

I nod, not entirely sure what I’m agreeing with.

Another silence. I fidget and watch the volleyball players, who are laughing and jumping and diving in the sand. I would have happily played volleyball. I’m good at volleyball.

We fail at getting a real conversation going, so eventually I go back to reading my book, while James stretches out on the towels and closes his eyes with an “I put on SPF fifty this morning, but I know I’m doomed.”

Last in, first out: Julia returns. I thought she was in a bad mood when she left. It was nothing compared to the one she’s in now.