The Trouble With Flirting (9 page)

“I couldn’t find them,” she announces angrily as she drops down next to me, missing the towels and sending a swirl of sand up in the air and into my eyes. “They must be hiding somewhere. This sucks.”

I’m finding it hard to be sympathetic: I bet I’m just as wounded by Alex and Isabella’s disappearance as she is by Harry and Marie’s, but at least I’m trying to make the time pass pleasantly for those of us left behind. Every time she mutters something about how long Harry and Marie have been gone, James looks more disturbed, and I’m starting to feel bad for him. Is Julia really that clueless?

Lawrence and Vanessa come back soon after that, sweaty and exhilarated, followed a little while later by Isabella and Alex.

“Sorry we were gone so long!” Isabella sings out. They
sit down close together and she lets her hand rest lightly on his knee, almost like she doesn’t know it’s there. “There was this strange little rock area up ahead, and I said, ‘Let’s just walk to there,’ but then it was much farther than I realized. And then when we got there, it wasn’t even all that interesting.” She glances slyly at Alex. “But the walk was nice.”

“As we learn from
The Odyssey
, it is not the journey but the destination that matters,” Alex intones with mock pomposity. He leans back so he can pull something out of his pocket and says in his normal voice, “Hey, Franny, I found these for you.” He holds out his hand to me, revealing five softly colored, irregularly shaped pebbles. “You said you like sea glass, right?”

I didn’t even think he’d heard me.

I put out my hand and he pours the pieces onto my palm. “They’re beautiful,” I say. “Don’t you want them?”

“I was looking for you. Since you couldn’t.”

“Thank you.” I close my hand around my treasure.

Isabella says—a little sharply—“Don’t hog all the credit, Alex.
I
found that big clear piece.”

“No,” Alex says. “I found the clear one—you found the purple one.”

“I’m pretty sure I found both.”

“Now who’s trying to hog the credit?” He brushes his lips against her temple.

“Just trying to keep you honest,” she says, her voice sof
tening.

I tighten my fist around the sea glass until it hurts.

Marie and Harry don’t return until we’re all eating the hot dogs, chips, and drinks that the counselors have supplied.

Marie is in a very good mood. She tosses around her mane of honey-colored hair as she laughs loudly at Harry’s jokes and orders James to wait on her. She seems to think she’s impressing everyone with the fact that she has two guys orbiting her, but I don’t think either of them seems nearly as delighted with her as she is with herself.

Julia is unusually quiet, just sits with me and Lawrence, picking at a bag of chips and ignoring her hot dog.

After we’ve been eating for a little while, Isabella stands up and stretches. With that white linen tunic and her long dark hair pinned up and those sleek sunglasses, she looks sexy and sophisticated. “Anyone want another soda?” she asks, and Alex leaps to his feet to go with her to the barrel of drinks near the volleyball net. Their hands seek out each other along the way, and they stay entwined even when they return to report that the counselors are putting out dessert. Harry and Lawrence head over to the picnic table to grab some for us all.

Harry comes back and tosses a plastic-wrapped brownie in front of me. I toss back a “thanks,” and then he drops down next to Julia and holds out another one. “For you.”

“No, thank you,” she says frostily.

He shakes his head ruefully. “I could have sworn someone told me that girls like chocolate.”

“I like
chocolate
,” she says.

“So it’s me you have a problem with?”

“It was just a joke. Excuse me.” She gets up and pointedly walks over to where Alex and Isabella are talking and sits down with them.

Harry looks at me. “I think I’m in trouble.”

“Seems like it.”

He leans back on his elbows. “Don’t suppose you’d be willing to tell me what crime I committed?”

I shake my head. “I’m just an innocent bystander. By
sitter
.” Then I relent. “But you probably should have waited for her to take that walk along the beach. I’m only telling you this much because you gave me a brownie.”

“I knew I was on to something with that chocolate/girl thing.” He turns onto his side so he’s facing me, his head propped up on one elbow. “Hey, how’s your foot feeling?”

“Totally fine.”

“Too bad. I kind of liked carrying you around.”

“I’m sure you’ll have plenty more opportunities—I’m the world’s biggest klutz.”

“Well, I’m not going to
hope
that you get hurt, but if you do, remember that you’re
my
damsel in distress, and no one else is allowed to carry you.”

“I don’t remember signing that contract,” I say.

“All the more reason to promise me now.”

“What if you’re not around when I get hurt?”

“Send word. I’ll come running.”

“How big an injury does it have to be? Because sometimes I do this thing when I stand up too quickly and my ankle kind of twists a little—”

“Sounds serious,” he says gravely. “You don’t want to put any weight on that. I’d better carry you the next time that happens.”

“What if I skin my knee?”

“I’ll carry you.”

“Charley horse?”

“I’ll carry you.”

“Chipped toenail?”

“Not worth taking a risk. I’ll carry you.”

I grin at him and then realize that Julia is watching both of us from over near her brother. And she looks seriously annoyed. Which is ridiculous: I can’t help it if Harry flirts with whoever he’s near and that happens to be me right now. But I have to admit—he’s funnier and smarter than I’ve given him credit for, and I’m kind of enjoying the conversation. I guess guys like Harry can be good company so long as you don’t forget that they’re, you know . . . guys like Harry.

T
he next day, parts are announced. At dinner that night I can basically guess who got the good roles and who didn’t by everyone’s expression.

Julia is morose. “It’s not bad enough that she switched to our cast?” she whispers to me as we fill our cups together at the dispenser. “They gave her Viola! The biggest female lead!”

“Is she a bad actress?”

She waves her hand irritably, sending drops of Diet Coke flying around us. “She’s fine, I guess. It doesn’t matter—this is totally sympathy casting; they still think some guy was inappropriate with her. Which is so ridiculous.. . . And you
know who’s playing the duke?” I shake my head. “
Harry
,” she says, like it should have been obvious. “That means the two of them fall in love, which is just what she was obviously hoping for when she switched into this cast. She got everything she wanted by cheating. It’s so unfair!”

“Who did you get?”

“Maria.” She pronounces it “Ma-rye-ah.” “She’s a maid. It’s not the worst role in the world, but it’s not the best. I’m also the duke’s musician. I think that gives me one more line.”

Marie is sitting with Harry when we get back to our table, going on about the play and their scenes together. “We should sneak off to rehearse whenever we can,” she tells him as we sit down. “He said he wants us off book by the end of next week. That’s not so hard for people with smaller roles”—her eyes, ever so briefly, graze over Julia—“but I’m terrified!”

“It’ll be fine,” he says, and greets both me and Julia, who takes a sip of her Diet Coke and says offhandedly, “So where did you and your boyfriend go after the beach, Marie?”

Marie looks vaguely annoyed by the question. “Just some restaurant.” She turns back to Harry. “The hardest thing to me is going to be pretending to be a boy—I mean, I could
play
a boy no problem. It’s much trickier playing a
girl
who’s
pretending
to be a boy. You know what I mean?”

“Don’t overthink this one,” he says. “Lower your voice, show some swag, grab your crotch, and wear something that hides your boobs. She will, right?” he says, turning to me.
“Wear something that hides her boobs? What’s her costume going to be like?”

“I’m not allowed to say—Amelia’s worried people will start asking for changes if they find out too early on.”

“But you’ll tell
us
, right?” Harry says, with a beguiling smile. He
does
have an extremely beguiling smile; I’ll give him that. Something to do with those under-eye dimples. “We’re your friends.”

“I’m open to bribery,” I say cheerfully.

“I already gave you a brownie,” he points out. “How much more can one man do?”

“Two brownies?” I suggest.

Alex and Isabella come over to the table. “I’m Isabella!” she cries out as she gets closer.

“Yeah, we’ve met you,” Harry says.

“Shut up! You know what I mean.”

“You got the role!” He holds out his arms and she bends down so they can hug. “I’m so proud of you. I knew you could do it.”

She steps back, beaming. “Best of all, Alex is the duke.”

“Everyone’s a duke,” I say.

“Is that what you got?” Isabella asks Harry, who nods. “Fantastic! I’m so proud of
you
.” Another hug. What a huggy duo they are. She slides into his lap and rests her head on his shoulder. “Can I share your food?” she asks. “I’m too tired to go get my own.”

“What’s mine is yours,” Harry says, and she rips off a
piece of his roll and pops it in her mouth, then rips off another piece and pops it in
his
mouth.

“So you’re one of the leads?” Julia asks her brother, who nods. “I’m just the stupid maidservant,” she says glumly. “It’s not fair. I mean, I’m happy for you, Al, but I care about acting so much more than you do.”

“I know, and you’re also much better at it than I am.”

“I’m not saying that—”

“It’s true.” Alex is totally channeling William to me right now: my brother would have tried to make me feel better too. “It’s just that boy/girl thing—every guy will get a good role because Shakespeare had lots of great male roles and there aren’t as many guys as girls here.”

“Yeah, Sir Andrew’s going to be played by a girl in our production,” Marie says. “They’re changing the character to Lady Andrea because they don’t want a girl playing a boy since Viola is already a girl playing a boy and they don’t want to confuse the audience.”

“Which means trannies are completely out of the question,” Harry says.

Marie taps his shoulder. “Are you going to go see fireworks on the Fourth with everyone? I’m trying to decide if I want to go or not. There’s a party I’ve been invited to—”

“With James?” Julia asks.

Marie gives a curt nod. “But I don’t know if I want to go. I hate to miss out on fireworks.”

“Girls always see fireworks when they’re with me” is
Harry’s predictable response.

“Oh, I’m sure,” she says with heavy sarcasm. “But are you going?”

“Haven’t thought about it.” He glances at me. “You going, Franny?”

“I guess,” I say. If everyone else is going, I’ll go. I’m not going to miss out on a fun night away from campus just because I have a stupid childhood phobia.

I look up and see that Alex is watching me. He gives me a little nod and a reassuring smile. I guess he remembers that fireworks make me nervous.

On the night of the Fourth, after the bus lets us off on a tree-lined bluff above the ocean, the graduate students hand out candy and popcorn. They brought Frisbees and footballs, too, and we all throw them around, laughing and enjoying the growing cool as the twilight deepens around us.

It’s fun, but there’s a knot of anxiety inside me that tightens when someone yells, “They’re about to start!”

Everyone gathers at the edge of the cliff, facing the ocean. I quickly slip to the back of the crowd, getting as far away as I can from the actual fireworks.

There’s a small
boom
and a sizzling noise as a rocket snakes up to the sky. It explodes, and blue and white sparks fly down.

People ooh and aah. My heart thuds, and I can feel sweat prickling under my arms and at my temples. I know I’m perfectly safe and should be enjoying this, but my body refuses
to believe that. Where’s William when I need him? He was the only thing that kept me from fainting when I was little. He’d stand next to me and I’d close my eyes and press my face into his arm.

Two loud
boom
s in a row and suddenly I’m finding it hard to breathe. I move closer to the tree and press my whole body against the rough bark. Maybe I can just kind of shield myself behind it—

I suddenly feel a strong arm behind my back and a warm, steady hand on my shoulder.

I open my eyes. Alex is standing next to me. He doesn’t say anything, just keeps his arm tight around me. I’m protected by him on one side and the tree on the other.

Five rockets are set off in quick succession and
boom, boom, boom, boom, boom
above us. I stare up at the shower of lights as each burst breaks through the one before it. I lean against the trunk and think,
It’s beautiful
. Because it really is.

Alex’s arm is reassuringly solid across my back. I want to relax against it, but I don’t, because he’s probably just being nice, and I don’t want him to think it means anything more than that to me.

I thank him when it’s all over. He says, “Don’t mention it,” gives my shoulders one last squeeze, then walks back to Isabella, who’s standing with Harry near the front of the group.

He takes her hand and says something, gesturing back toward me and the tree, and she nods, like she understands
what’s going on. But the next time we walk by each other, her eyes linger on my face like she’s trying to figure something out.

A couple of nights later, I find my friends curled up together in a corner of the common room, talking wistfully about chocolate chip cookies.

“The ones here suck,” Julia says. The sofa is full, so she curls up her legs and drapes them across Vanessa’s lap, making room on the floor for me to sit below them. “They’re always stale. I want bakery ones, all warm from the oven.”

“At home I bake cookies all the time,” Vanessa says, gently scritching the top of my head in greeting, like I’m a pet. “They’re good, too.”