Winter White (3 page)

“What if we ate somewhere in EC?” Aunt Maureen suggested. “Somewhere close so you girls could—”

“No,” Izzie and Mira said in unison. They both smiled slightly. They were a lot of things at the moment, but mad at each other was not one of them.

“Hayden? Connor?” Bill asked, trying not to look hurt.

“I don’t have plans,” Hayden told him as he tried to steal the DS from Connor.

“Somewhere with fries?” Connor clung to his DS. Their dad nodded. “I’m in!”

“Girls, are you sure you can’t get away and…” Aunt Maureen’s voice trailed off. Izzie had tuned out again, and she assumed Mira had done the same. She watched the open farmland roll by her window. The car grew quiet again. “Well, if you really can’t come,” Aunt Maureen said reluctantly, “we’ll drop you guys off first.”

Izzie breathed a sigh of relief. She wasn’t in the mood for another fight or a family feeling session. Forget studying for Spanish. All she wanted to do was clear her head and hit the waves. And that’s exactly what she planned on doing.

“Bye! Have a super time at lunch!” Callista waved as the limo backed out of the Monroes’ driveway. Her hair billowed in the light breeze, getting caught in her lip gloss. Mira still felt deflated. She wondered if Izzie felt as guilty as she did for bailing on the post–
Wendy “Big Mouth” Wallington Show
celebratory lunch. Her mom had looked disappointed, but Mira still couldn’t force herself to break bread with her dad. Even though it had been more than two weeks since he told them the truth about Izzie, every time Mira thought about what he did, she wanted to scream. She had a sister. A
sister
. And she was standing right next to her with a pout on her face that was probably an exact duplicate of Mira’s own.

Callista waved till the car disappeared from sight, then turned to the girls with a sad smile that was partially masked by
the breeze whipping her hair around. “You can breathe, ladies. They’re gone. You’ve got two hours to bash your dad all you want.”

“Is it that obvious?” Izzie asked, scuffing the brick driveway with her flip-flops. The heels she had been forced to wear for the taping hung from her right hand by the straps.

“A little bit,” Callista admitted. “But probably only to me because I know what you guys have been through. You guys were rock stars on Wendy’s show. You made my job much easier, but I’m sure it wasn’t much fun for either of you.”

Mira bit her lip. “Do you think the audience could tell?”

Callista shook her head. “No. Just me. I know your quirks already.” She pointed to Mira. “You make a fist every time someone asks you something that makes you nervous, and, Izzie, you tap your feet like drumsticks.” Callista studied them curiously. “Things aren’t getting any better with your dad?” Izzie and Mira shook their heads.

“I know he’s trying, but I don’t forgive him,” Mira said.

Callista glanced at Izzie. “Don’t look at me,” Izzie said. “I get angry just being in the same room as him.”

“Me, too,” Mira agreed, happy to have an ally. She and Izzie were so in sync lately, it was scary. This fight with their dad might be rough, but it had brought her and Izzie closer. “Last night at dinner, he said, ‘Mira, pass the peas?’ and I wanted to throw the whole bowl at him.” She bit her lip. “That’s wrong, isn’t it?”

Izzie laughed. “It could have been worse. You didn’t actually pelt him with peas.” She grinned mischievously. “Meanwhile, I
think I spent half of dinner dreaming about dumping the bowl of mashed potatoes on his head!”

“I probably wouldn’t forgive my dad yet, either,” Callista agreed. “I think it’s practically law in the teen handbook to fight with your parents. I know I did. Just don’t do it in public,” she added as an afterthought, and both girls laughed. Callista reached into a large oversize Gucci bag and fumbled for her keys. “Now, do you guys really have places to be and tests to cram for, or can I take you somewhere for lunch that your family will never find you? You have the day off from school! You should do something fun.”

Mira smiled to herself. This was why she liked Callista so much. The public-image guru might work for her dad, but she seemed to know exactly how it felt to be a frustrated fifteen-year-old girl. Every interview or press request she gave to the girls came with an apology (“Diane Sawyer doesn’t deserve to know what you think about half siblings, but it would help your family a ton if you answered the question anyway.”). When they finished an event, Callista let them complain (“Maria Menounos really asked you that? How tacky. I’m going to give her a piece of my mind.”). Callista acted like their big sister. Their dad had done one thing right by hiring her.

Izzie looked up from texting. “While I could use something other than the celery sticks Wendy had in her greenroom, I have to pass. Brayden has off last period, so he is skipping out early and meeting me to surf.”

“In this weather?” Mira asked. The breeze sent leaves tumbling down the driveway almost like they were trying to say they agreed with her. Callista’s cell rang loudly to put in its two cents, too. Callista stepped away to take the call.

“It’s not
that
cold,” Izzie said with a smirk. She headed for the front door to go get her wet suit and board. Once Izzie had her mind set on something, there was no talking her out of it.

At Emerald Prep, everyone thought Izzie and Brayden were doomed, and they weren’t even officially going out yet. No one took Savannah Ingram’s boyfriend and lived to tell the tale. But Mira couldn’t help being impressed with Izzie anyway. She always seemed to know what she wanted, and she went after it with gusto. Maybe it was time she tried that. She couldn’t stop thinking about Kellen Harper. He had been kind of weird at the fall dance, but Mira still thought—okay, hoped—he might be into her. Maybe it was time she found out for sure. She got out her phone and texted him.

Kellen always had food on his mind, so she wasn’t surprised when he texted her back.

Callista ended her call and walked back over to Mira, who was now grinning from ear to ear. “What about you?” Callista asked. “I know you’re not putting on a wet suit.”

“I’ve never worn a wet suit, and I don’t intend to start now,” Mira said. “They’re too clingy. They show everything.” She shivered at the thought.

“I agree,” Callista said. “So, want to drown your daddy sorrows in a milk shake at Corky’s? I keep hearing how good that place is, but I feel too lame to go alone.”

Were publicists also psychic? “I’m actually meeting someone there a little later,” Mira said sheepishly. She wanted to add, “You can join us,” but hanging with both Kellen and Callista seemed strange. “Corky’s is great, though. Want to go tomorrow instead?”

“Nah. This is the universe’s way of telling me I don’t need a milk shake,” Callista told her. Mira doubted that. Callista was probably a size two. She’d said she had a scary-fast metabolism, and her pants were always falling down on her. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about anything that happened at the taping?” she asked one last time. “I felt bad when Connor caught you off guard with that bathroom comment.”

Mira winced. Why did Connor have to call out her
bathroom habits? He was six, but still. “That’s not your fault. You can’t know everything Wendy was going to ask me.”

Callista laughed. “I should. That’s my job! You bounced back quickly, though.”

When Wendy “Big Mouth” Wallington—her dad’s supposed good friend from college—had asked Mira whether they were one big, happy family, Mira had smiled, of course. She had been raised to be a proper Southern belle, and that’s how she always behaved. She had grown up in front of cameras, thanks to her dad’s professional ball-playing and political careers, but that morning she wished she could have thrown some punches. Not just at Wendy for her invasive questions, but at her darling dad, the one she had always held up on a pedestal. Maybe she and Izzie wouldn’t have had such friction if they had known the truth. They were still polar opposites—if their two hometowns were jewels, Emerald Cove would be emeralds, of course, and Izzie’s Harborside would be the plastic stuff you got in Piggly Wiggly vending machines—but they were trying to get along now. They had been through too much not to.

Callista unlocked her Prius, which was sitting at the curb. “Want a ride to Corky’s?” Mira nodded. “Even though I’m dropping you off so early?”

“Oh, I’m not going to Corky’s yet,” Mira said with a grin, and opened the passenger door. “First I’m going to de-stress.”

“How do you plan on doing that?” Callista asked.

“By doing what I always do when I’m stressed. Shop.”

Two and a half hours later, Izzie and Brayden collapsed in a booth at Scoops, their favorite Harborside Pier haunt. Between the frigid water and the chill in the air, they were still trying to catch their breath.

“Let’s promise each other right now,” said Brayden, holding out his pinkie. Izzie hooked her finger with his. “We will
not
go back in the water till May.”

Izzie pouted, her lips still blue. Being able to go from her front door to the ocean in less than ten minutes flat used to be her favorite thing about living in Harborside. Now that she lived in Emerald Cove, she had to make actual plans to go to the beach. She hated the idea of not getting back in the ocean till May, but she kept her finger linked with Brayden’s anyway. She liked when their hands touched.

Brayden kept his blue-green eyes on her, almost as if he knew she still needed persuading. “Iz, today it was only sixty degrees! That means the water temperature was only…”

“I know, I know.” Izzie tried to run her hand through her sticky hair with her free hand. The
Wendy
show hairstylist had put so much lacquer in her normally product-free tresses that her locks were practically one big knot now that they’d been tangled up by the waves. “You think it’s too cold to swim, even with a wet suit on.” She didn’t want to admit it, but she knew he was right. When they dove in today, her body practically screamed in protest at the icy intrusion.

“
I
think?” Brayden repeated. “Everyone thinks so!”

“Everyone?” Izzie gave him a skeptical look. “No one else was out there.”

“Exactly!” Brayden said. “Other people are smart! They don’t go in the freezing cold water just because the girl they like wants to and they don’t want to seem like a baby for saying no.” She bit her lip and blushed. “The only fools in the water today were us and the pelicans, and they thought we were crazy, too.” Izzie tried not to laugh. “Oh yeah, I totally speak pelican,” he said seriously. “It is one of my hidden talents.”

Brayden looked so cute, it was hard for her to keep a straight face. His light brown hair was still wet from the frothy surf, and he had changed out of his wet suit in the back room of Scoops and into jeans, a long-sleeve tee, and his rope
necklace with the pirate medallion. This is how she liked seeing Brayden, not in his stuffy private school uniform. Here, he was relaxed, funny, and all hers, without the drama of Emerald Cove breathing down their necks.

Brayden was still ranting. “If we had seen any dolphins, I’m sure they would have thought we were deranged as well. Even the penguins…”

Izzie started to laugh and squeezed his finger tighter. “I get it! You’re the animal whisperer! Every sea creature and bird you’ve encountered agrees that it is too cold for us to be in the water, and they’re right. I admit defeat.” Satisfied, Brayden unhooked their fingers.

Izzie tried not to appear disappointed when he let go. She glanced around the nearly deserted ice-cream shop. The pier was still officially open for another few weeks, but most of the seasonal T-shirt, arcade, boardwalk fries, and custard stands would close that weekend. After the annual Halloween parade, no one really visited the wind-whipped boardwalk unless they were skateboarding or taking a shortcut to the community center.