Authors: Hailey Abbott
A
week later, Cassie managed to snag a gift from the parking gods—a fantastic spot only steps from Melrose. She mouthed a quick thank-you as she locked the car and then ran around the corner and halfway down the block.
It was almost eight o’clock on the Friday before the long Fourth of July weekend, and the sun was just getting to the intensely orange part of its slide toward the ocean. Long shadows stretched across the sidewalks as dusk began to settle in. Cassie averted her gaze from one truly scary looking guy with a dark black tattoo sprawled across his forehead and a chain attached to several large piercings along his jaw. Better safe than sorry.
She pushed through the doors of her favorite coffee
house, letting the blast of air-conditioning soothe her with the contrast from the street. The rich smell of coffee beans and warm milk enveloped her immediately, and she took a moment to breathe it in before looking around for Keagan. Her friend waved wildly from her choice spot in the plush armchairs near the window, where they could look out at all the alternative kids and gothed-out tourists who wandered in and out of the trendy boutiques, to stock up on their leathers and dog collars or grab a new tattoo before dinner.
“Sorry,” Cassie said in a rush as she approached. “I got caught in traffic coming back from the ferry and then I had to change out of my bike clothes—”
“No worries,” Keagan interrupted with a wave of her hand and a big smile. “I just got here myself. A toddler dumped his spaghetti all over me and it took me forever to shower it off. Seriously, it was like embedded in my hair.” She made a face and waved her palms over her head, indicating the area just north of her bangs. “So gross.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t tell you about my day,” Cassie said, collapsing into the chair opposite Keagan with a happy sigh. “The perfect all-day bike ride with the sweetest family—three generations on one trip. Grandmother, mother, and daughter.” Cassie shrugged. “I had such a good time I almost missed my ferry.”
“And meanwhile I was in a one-way food fight,” Keagan said, wrinkling her nose. “Life is totally unfair.”
“You’d never know there was a spaghetti incident,” Cassie assured her, leaning back against the velvety chair. “You look great. Spaghetti-and spaghetti sauce–free.”
But even covered in marinara, Keagan would have looked good. She was showing off her perfectly shaped legs in another pair of short-shorts, paired with a formfitting red Michael Stars tank top layered under a small black vest. She’d let her hair fall around her shoulders in a pale blond curtain, and she looked like the Beach Boys might leap out at any moment and start singing about her. California cool, with a little bit of Hollywood glamour girl.
“So do you,” Keagan offered. “I think I need to consume more iron or something. You’re all glowing and pretty.”
“I think you mean
sunburned
,” Cassie laughed, though she was pleased with the compliment. She’d thrown on her favorite outfit in her rush to meet her friends—battered jeans, a bohemian-looking white peasant top that pinched in at the waist, and her most beloved dangling necklace, made of interlocking gold hoops. “If you biked in the sea air all day, you’d glow too.”
“I’m so jealous that you get to be outside all day,” Keagan said with a sigh. She stretched her arms over her head. “I mean, the restaurant has tables outside and stuff, but it’s not really the same thing.”
Cassie laughed, and then got up to order a coffee. She usually went for her favorite, Mexican mocha, which was cinnamony and chocolaty and to die for, but tonight she decided to celebrate with something
even more
decadent: a frappuccino. After all, the girls were meeting up after a long first week of working, and they were headed to their first big party together. Cassie ordered the delicious, better-than-a-milk-shake drink, and prepared herself to enjoy the sure-to-be-amazing night ahead. Not that she needed much preparation. Greta had promised the party would be overrun with hotties to suit all types. Cassie grinned at the cashier, who was all dimples and green eyes behind the counter, and there was definitely an extra spring in her step when she headed back to her armchair.
“He’s cute, right?” Keagan said in a whisper, giggling. “Fully kissable, in my opinion. I’m on my second iced latte already and I blame it on his smile.”
“Oh, I’ll clearly be ordering another,” Cassie agreed. “I wonder if he offers making out as part of the menu? Or if that’s only for off-work hours?”
“I think kissing is strictly off the menu, though not necessarily off work,” Keagan replied. “But I bet we could convince him.” She laughed. “Just bat the eyelashes, smile, and it’s practically a done deal.”
“Oh, please,” Cassie said, pretending to scoff. “We aren’t eyelash batters. That’s so submissive. We need
to march up there and
demand
that he kiss us. Girl power, K!”
“My mistake,” Keagan said, giggling. “No eyelashes. I’ll just walk up there and when he asks if he can help me, I’ll say”—she struck a pose—“
you’re damn right you can. Kiss me, coffee boy.
”
Cassie opened her mouth to reply, but Keagan’s eyes went wide, and the color drained away from her face.
“What?” Cassie asked, worried. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”
Keagan swallowed and then let her breath out in a rush.
“Not a ghost,” she muttered, splotches of color appearing on her pale cheeks. “A ghost would be okay. It’s Zachary Malone. By the door.”
Uh-oh,
Cassie thought. Of all the eight zillion coffee shops in L.A., why did he have to pick this one?
Cassie shifted around in her seat and had no trouble picking out Zachary from the crowd. It was like he’d swaggered into some television setup crafted to make Keagan as uncomfortable as possible. Rihanna belted out a song on the sound system while the last of the day’s sunshine spilled all around him in a reddish glow. He was, as expected, gorgeous. Sexy and dangerous-looking, with dark hair and one of those bodies you could tell was amazing even under a T-shirt and hipster jeans. Of course, it was also obvious that he knew he was
hotter than an Abercrombie model and loved it. Wentworth Miller and then some.
And then he stepped to the side, pulling his Ray-Bans from his eyes, and revealed the girl standing next to him, clinging to his hand like she needed help to stand up straight. And she very well might have. She had fake boobs spilling out of her halter dress, big blond hair groomed to perfection, and looked way too much like Paris Hilton. Basically, she was every girl’s worst nightmare.
“Yikes….” Cassie managed to say.
“That’s Morgana,” Keagan said miserably. “Who’s actually named
Morgana
?”
“Maybe it’s a fake name to go with the rest of the fake body,” Cassie said. Keagan only shook her head. They watched Morgana flit across the store, drawing the near-panting gaze of every guy there, until she disappeared into the ladies’ room. “She’s ridiculous,” Cassie muttered.
“Yes, she is,” Keagan replied.
Zachary glanced over and saw Keagan sitting in her chair—frozen in position like a doe in headlights. Cassie could tell the exact moment that Zachary recognized his ex. His face changed from blasé to a smirk. He took a step toward Keagan.
Oh no,
Cassie thought.
This is going to get ugly.
The door to the coffeehouse was tossed open again,
and Greta appeared in a swirl of traffic sounds with the sunset behind her, making her strawberry blond curls gleam. She was dressed to maim, in the tiniest black sundress Cassie had ever seen, with slouchy gray boots low on her legs. She strode inside the coffeehouse, smiled at Cassie, then frowned when her eyes fell on Keagan. She assessed the situation with a quick glance.
“You have to be kidding me,” she said, before Zachary could say a word, her voice loud enough to reach even the screenwriters hunched over their laptops with white earbuds connecting them to their computers like life support. “Are you stalking me,
again
?” she demanded, marching right over to Zachary. “How many times can I tell you it’s over?”
Greta threw a look at Cassie, eyebrows raised. Cassie took the hint and jumped to her feet as Zachary sputtered something unintelligible. Cassie followed Greta’s lead.
“He just showed up,” she said, even louder than Greta. She had everyone’s attention. “Do you want me to call someone?”
“This is so lame,” Greta said, shaking her head sadly, as if she pitied this insanely hot loser. “Why can’t you stop following me around? I told you, I’m not getting back together with you, okay? It wasn’t serious anyway.”
“You’re…you’re crazy!” Zachary managed to get out.
“Oh, sweetie,” Greta said theatrically. “I get it. I do. I’m sorry that you fell so in love with me. I wish I could feel the same.”
“She wants you to leave her alone,” Cassie told him, managing not to laugh—and deliberately not looking over at Keagan, who was making a suspicious wheezing sound. “She’s told you a million times, Zachary. This is so embarrassing.”
Zachary stared at Cassie in shock, a whole lot less hot with his mouth hanging open. Across the store, Morgana pranced out of the bathroom, oblivious to the scene taking place in front of her.
“Oh, Zach,” Greta said pityingly, glancing over at Morgana. “Really? Do you
really
think that parading this poor girl around is going to make me jealous? That’s almost sweet. But”—she smiled at him—“it’s still not going to work, okay? I know how much you’re paying her.”
Zachary’s face went purple, but he still couldn’t seem to get a word out. From how Keagan had described him, this might be a first.
“Zach?” Morgana whined, reaching his side. “What’s going on? You look super tweaked.”
“Hey, buddy,” said the cute cashier, leaning on the counter. “I think maybe you should leave.”
“They’re pretty anti-stalker here, Zachary,” Cassie added, crossing her arms over her chest. “Sorry.”
“And please don’t leave me any more messages,” Greta said, stepping around Zachary toward the counter. “I can’t listen to any more of you crying, seriously. I’m sorry you’re in so much pain, really I am, but you have to move on.” She smiled at him. “I know I have.”
And then, cool as a cucumber, Greta draped herself over the counter and ordered a double espresso, while Zachary and his new girlfriend slunk out the door. Morgana seemed confused, but if Zachary had had a tail, Cassie was certain it would have been tucked firmly between his legs. She looked over at Keagan, who was covering her mouth with both hands, her eyes wide and shining.
“Oh my God,” she whispered when Cassie sank back into her seat.
“Oh my God.”
Greta walked over and perched herself on the arm of Cassie’s chair, a satisfied smile on her lips.
“Greta,” Keagan said, shaking her head. “I can’t believe you did that! Did you see his face? Oh my
God
!”
“This is our summer,” Greta said, looking at Keagan and then Cassie, and then smiling broadly. “Not his. May the games begin.”
T
he first party of the summer was thrown by a kid Greta went to school with at Harvard-Westlake, one of the best private schools in Los Angeles. He lived in one of those sprawling houses in the Palisades that spread out over the bluffs with nothing to look at but the sparkling expanse of the Pacific Ocean. Cassie had always had a soft spot for the cute little village of Pacific Palisades, tucked away on Sunset Boulevard almost all the way out toward the water. It had nothing at all to do with the fact that Steven Spielberg and Tom Hanks lived in the neighborhood, she told herself as they walked up the driveway and around the ivy-covered house to the back. It had nothing to do with her secret wish that she’d be
discovered
wandering into the bookstore and suddenly find
herself more famous than Miley Cyrus. Not that Cassie could act—in fact, the idea of getting up in front of a group of people and
pretending
to be something she wasn’t made her blood run cold. She just enjoyed the fact that the Palisades encouraged that kind of dreaming.
Out behind the impressive house, the grassy backyard extended to the edge of the steep bluffs, dropping off toward the Pacific Ocean far below. But it wasn’t just the moonlit ocean view that made the night crackle with magic and possibility. Kids were grouped into little packs and gathered around the fire pit in the center of the grass. Others were clustered around the infinity pool. Tiki torches burned every few feet or so, marking off the edge of the property and lighting things up everywhere else. The place was jumping.
“This is already fun!” Cassie said, grinning in anticipation.
“You know it,” Greta replied. “Come on, ladies. It’s time to unwind.”
She led Cassie and Keagan over to the bar near the pool. Cassie followed happily, letting herself drink in all the boys that she passed. There were so many to choose from. A sweet-looking preppy guy with a knowing smile. A blond surfer god with intense blue eyes to match his board shorts. A gift bag of guys. Cassie began to think, with a little thrill inside, that it would be way too easy kissing ten of them. Why limit herself?
“Here,” Keagan said, handing Cassie a beer. “You look like you’re a thousand miles away. You’re not thinking about the ex, are you? Because”—Keagan laughed—“the only thing an ex is good for is to allow a scene like you and Greta pulled off!”
“God, no, I’m not thinking about Daniel,” Cassie said. She wrinkled up her nose. “Did you notice that this place is crawling with kissable boys?”
“That’s the right attitude,” Greta chimed in. She leaned in close and clanked her beer bottle against the other two. “This party is filled with worthy candidates.”
They all toasted and took big gulps of their drinks.
Then Cassie and Greta stared as Keagan chugged the remainder of her beer, tossed it into one of the garbage pails nearby, and swiped herself a new one from the nearby cooler. She took the first sip from her new bottle and then raised her eyebrows at her friends.
“What?” she asked. “I’ve had a long night.”
“Candidates,” Cassie said, changing the subject in a hurry. She didn’t know what
she
would have done if it had been Daniel who’d sneaked up on her like that. “I like that term. All these cute boys are just
candidates
waiting to be chosen.
Maybe.
If they pass my grading system.”
“You have a grading system?” Greta asked, arching an eyebrow.
“Well, no,” Cassie admitted. “But I think I should.”
“Me too,” Keagan said, shrugging her shoulders as if warding off a shiver. “I’m going to do a lap and see what there is to see.” She gave a wicked sort of smile. “Don’t worry if you see me talking to strangers, okay?”
Greta laughed slightly as Keagan sauntered off, working those short-shorts with every step, her long, pale hair waving behind her like a veil.
“She cracks me up,” Greta said. “I love it when she gets in touch with her dark side.”
“Does she not usually?” Cassie asked. She genuinely didn’t know what her friends were like when she wasn’t around. It made her sad to think about how much life they all lived without one another. This summer was her chance to finally see it all, rather than hearing summaries and stories in past tense.
“She’s got that whole innocent vibe thing working for her,” Greta said. She looked at Cassie. “You know. She looks like a delicate little angel, and that’s how guys usually treat her. Or want to see her, anyway.”
“She’s not an angel tonight,” Cassie murmured, indicating Keagan with her drink. “Check it out.”
Greta turned, and both of them watched as Keagan flirted with a brawny football-player type, with massive shoulders and dark hair. Keagan was already showing her dimples and moving closer.
“She doesn’t waste any time,” Greta said with a laugh. “Go, Keagan!” She made a face and cast an eye
around the party. “Unfortunately, I go to school with a lot of these people, so I am less excited with the potential than you are.” She shrugged at Cassie’s look. “I’ve either already kissed or decided not to kiss most of the guys here. But there’s no reason you can’t start working on
your
numbers.”
Cassie took another swig of her beer and met the challenge in Greta’s gaze with a smile.
Flirting and introducing herself to new guys was seriously exciting. She and Greta worked as a team, insinuating themselves into groups, having teasing conversations with the boys, and then moving on. Cassie followed Greta’s lead. She’d never felt so confident before. It was like something that bubbled beneath her skin, making her giddy. Was this how it felt to be Greta?
On her way to get a second beer, Cassie looked over toward the last place she’d seen Keagan—and stopped short.
“Whoa!” Greta cried, bumping into her from behind.
“Um, look over there,” Cassie said, waving across the pool deck. Greta turned.
They both stood frozen still for a moment, taking in the view of Keagan completely making out with Mr. Football Shoulders. And, if her swaying body was any indication, she was also wasted.
“Huh,” Greta said after a moment. “I did not see Keagan being first out of the gate on this. An unexpected twist.” Her voice sounded impressed. Proud, even.
“Maybe, you know, this is healing,” Cassie said philosophically, while across the way Keagan lost her balance and tipped against the guy holding her up. “It’s probably a good thing for her, to help her over her ex, once and for all.”
“And nothing helps a broken heart like making out with a total stranger,” Greta said with a happy sigh. “When’s the last time you did something like that?”
Cassie considered. “There was no broken heart,” she said after a moment, “but I did make out with this hot skateboarder guy last summer. He was at one of the campgrounds, and there was a bonfire, and…” She shrugged, grinning. “Then there were lips.”
“You hussy!” Greta pretended to be scandalized. “Do you even know his name?”
“It had to be Wade or something,” Cassie said, frowning.
“Wade?” Greta cackled. “
Wade
is the go-to name?”
“It was weird, but not too weird!” Cassie protested. “What about you?” She laughed. “Wait a minute, I forgot who I was talking to.”
“Yes, Cassie,” Greta said, grinning, her hand propped on her hip. “I have made out with strange boys. It’s the
fun new way to say hello. You should see if there are any more
Wades
hanging around this party.” She pointed at a set of deck chairs, where a mixed group of girls and guys was sitting. “I’m going to head over there. Grab us some drinks and come join us.”
Cassie decided to pace herself, and snagged herself a Coke with Greta’s next beer. Then she made her way through the groups of kids. The jasmine-scented summer night lay heavy all around them. The Killers were blaring from the speakers, and she could feel the thump of the bass in her bones. A group of girls was dancing together on the grass, laughing wildly. Cigarette smoke rose in a cloud from a pack of guys sitting around the fire pit. She could smell salt and brine from the ocean, and the scent made her smile.
Cassie excused herself when she bumped into a couple who were a little too tied up with each other, then nimbly danced around them. She picked her way through the group Greta had joined and took the seat Greta had saved next to her.
“Everyone, this is Cassie,” Greta announced. “She lives next door to me.” She looked at Cassie. “These people all go to my school.”
There was a chorus of “Hi, Cassie,” from the group, and more than one “Why haven’t we met you before?”
“I go to boarding school,” Cassie said. “Siskiyou Academy, up north of Redding.”
“Ugh, cold,” groaned a girl who looked like a stereotypical Orange County surfer chick. “I’m Jessica, and anything below seventy degrees and I have, like, hypothermia.”
Cassie grinned a hello.
“I would love to go to boarding school,” another guy chimed in. “How cool would that be? No parents.”
“Clayton is always grounded,” Greta said. “Also, this is his house.” She made a face at Clayton. “Do you think maybe the fact you throw huge parties might have something to do with getting grounded?”
“My parents shouldn’t go on trips if they don’t want me to have parties,” Clayton retorted. He returned his attention to Cassie. “Boarding school would be the answer to my prayers.”
“I guess,” Cassie agreed. “But there are teachers. Though this one—”
“Oh no,” Greta interrupted. Cassie’s story died on her lips. She stared at Greta, wondering what she’d done—but Greta’s attention was focused on Keagan.
Keagan was drunkenly leaning on the arm of her kissing buddy as he headed toward the gate. Cassie frowned at the spectacle. Her friend was giggling uncontrollably, and it didn’t look like she could walk on her own.
“Is he taking her home?” Cassie asked.
“Um, over my dead body,” Greta retorted, standing
up. “I don’t know that guy.” She started walking toward Keagan, her strides purposeful in her slouchy boots. “Hey! K! Wait up!” she called.
Cassie couldn’t help smiling as she watched Greta take charge. First she disentangled Keagan from Mr. Football Shoulders. Then she shooed him away, without appearing to notice his complaints. And then she towed Keagan over to a group of girls she knew, and started negotiating a ride for Keagan from one of them. Cassie was still smiling when Greta, holding Keagan up, disappeared around the side of the house.
That was Greta. Bossy sometimes, yes. But as she’d proved twice tonight, she could always be counted on in a crisis.
Cassie returned her attention to the group around her. They’d reshuffled while the Keagan drama unfolded. Clayton had wandered off to a different clump of people, while Jessica was whispering to a girl who looked like she’d gotten dressed from the same closet. Cassie found she had an entire lounge chair to herself. So she did what any free, single, and happy girl would do—she lay back in it like she ruled the party. She closed her eyes, smiled, and soaked in her surroundings, memorizing everything from the sound of Kanye on the speakers to the laughter of the guys on the lounge chair next to her, and the ocean air embracing them all.
“Excuse me, Your Majesty,” came a drawling voice from above, a voice that sent a delicious shiver down Cassie’s spine. “May I share your throne?”
Cassie opened her eyes, and her perfect summer night got a whole lot better.