Perfect Couple (12 page)

“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me, Will.”

“You’re not hanging around the right people.”

“Okay.” I laughed.

“Seriously, you’re not. I think you and I are a lot alike. You’re good at school. You get used to praise from teachers and your parents about your academics. Sometimes you forget about the rest of your life.”

I took a long drink from my own thermos of water. “Yeah.”

“Then you get elected Perfect Couple, and you realize that other people see you as something more than a walking, talking
brain. Or, something
different
. That’s how I felt when I was voted Biggest Flirt. I mean, hello? I was so worried about what my parents would think. I wanted a title that said ‘Achievement.’ ” He spanned his hands in front of us, like framing his title in lights on a movie marquee. “Not . . . I don’t know.”

I framed my own movie title. “ ‘Social Life.’ ”

“Yeah. I wasn’t known for that at my old school. So I understand if you’re kind of . . .” He trailed off, afraid of offending me.

I helped him out. “Obsessed with it.”

Clearly that was the word he’d been too polite to use first. “Obsessed,” he repeated. “I’ll tell you, Brody was thrilled about getting paired with you.”

“He was?”

“Yeah. And today . . .” Will gestured to me. His hand stopped in midair, roughly on a parallel with my stomach. I wasn’t sure what he meant by this until he said, “Brody was happy to see you. And he was even happier to see you looking like you do today.”

“Ah.”

“And I know this is none of my business, but he has a girlfriend.”

I took another sip of water and said slowly, “I know.”

“I don’t think Brody takes any of this seriously,” Will
said. “Not the elections, not dating. You take it
very
seriously, like I do. That was my whole problem at first with Tia.”

“I get it.”

He drained the rest of his water and handed the thermos back to me.

“Here.” I dug another bottle out of the ice for him and pointed toward the pavilion. “Go lie down in there, where it’s actually cool. I’ll tell Tia where you went.”

“Thanks.” He stood and turned down the sandy path. The dog jerked to her feet in one motion and followed him.

“No, thank
you
.” As I watched Will go, I heard my own nonsensical words.
No, thank
you
for telling me the guy I have a crush on has no real interest in anybody, including me.

Except that Will had compared Brody and me to Tia and himself.

And he and Tia were now together.

Did I have a chance with Brody?

No, that was ridiculous. To accept that interpretation of what he’d said, I would have to ignore his whole exposition on
Brody already has a girlfriend and it isn’t you
.

Frustrated with myself, I stomped back to the towels, kicking up more sand than necessary, and threw myself down next to Tia.

“What’s wrong?” she asked with her eyes closed. She
didn’t even look over to see who’d collapsed next to her. Tia was laid back, and I envied her.

“This is not what’s wrong,” I said, “but I sent Will to the pavilion because he was melting.”

“He claims he’s normal and Floridians are made of asbestos. What’s wrong with
you
? Does your eye still hurt? Will said you had a real problem with your contact and Brody came to your rescue while Kennedy just sat there.”

“My eye is better.” Then I said flatly, “And I went to the pavilion and made out a little bit with Brody.”

Instantly she rolled over on her side. Her dark eyes were wide. “You don’t make out a little bit. The definition of ‘making out’— Where’s my phone?” She felt underneath her towel. “Without even looking it up, I can tell you that ‘making out’ means you’re hot and heavy. You can’t do it halfway.”

I told her solemnly, “So I made out with Brody.”

“You’re turning into me,” she breathed, pretending to be horrified.

“No. You’ve made out with random people, and Sawyer. But you never had a boyfriend before Will, so you were never cheating. I’m a cheater.” Honestly, I didn’t care about this as much as I should have.

She shrugged as best she could while lying on one arm. “Brody’s a cheater too.”

“Yeah,” I said, looking down the beach for him. He’d stopped about halfway from the pavilion with his back to me and his hands on his hips. Grace, Cathy, and Ellen walked toward him, presumably victorious after their foray for beer. Ellen staggered a little.

Tia still watched me. “Will told me he was going to warn you about Brody.”

“He did, after it was too late.” I looked around us to make sure nobody had plopped down near us on the towels. Then I admitted, “Brody felt me up a little.”

“Oh, good Lord!” Tia cried.

“Oh, you can’t get felt up halfway either?” I asked quickly. “Then Brody felt me up a
lot
. Don’t tell Kaye. Grace is sure to ask her what she knows. Kaye can’t spill it if she doesn’t have the info.”

Tia propped herself up on one elbow. “Can I just ask what the
fuck
you think you’re doing?”

I gasped. “Are you
judging
me?”

“Of course I’m not judging you!” Tia exclaimed. “I’m just wondering what’s gotten into you. The day of the elections, I told you to go after Brody, and you just reminded me you already had Kennedy. Today you’re setting up clandestine meetings and letting Brody grope your bosom.”

I laughed so hard at her phrasing that I sucked in some
sand and spent the next minute spitting it out and wiping it off my tongue. Continuing to giggle didn’t help this process.

Finally I sighed and said, “This whole election has shaken me out of my comfort zone. I thought all I wanted was to spend a little time with Kennedy, and take pictures, then sit at home by myself and tweak them on the computer. But if this is supposed to be the most exciting time of my life, I’m wasting mine. The rest of the United States comes to Florida for adventure. I actually
live
here and I don’t have any fun at all.”

“You started taking pictures
because
it was fun,” she pointed out.

“True.” Tia and I hadn’t worked through any of my problems, but I felt better talking to her. She was so upbeat about everything. My mood had improved. I sat up on my towel, half expecting the beach to hold wondrous surprises for me after all.

Cathy was still walking and Ellen was still staggering in our direction, but Grace had stopped where Brody stood. His head blocked her face from view. I couldn’t tell what they were saying or how intense it was. All I saw was that he had one hand on either side of her bikini bottoms. And the pavilion where we’d just spent a very interesting half hour together was in his direct line of sight. That’s how much our meeting had meant to him.

“Fuck everybody,” I murmured to Tia, “and that’s not a quote from Sawyer. Catch you later. I’m going swimming.” I jumped up, ran across the sand, and plunged into the water, swimming way out and diving deep. This had been my coping mechanism for countless school gatherings and birthday parties when interacting with others became too much for me. None of that—really nothing about me—had changed just because I’d made out with Brody.

I floated on my back in the warm ocean. Here on the Gulf, the waves weren’t high like they were on the Atlantic coast. Occasionally a big one would crash over my face and I’d snort salt water, but mostly the tide rocked me, lifting my head and then my toes like I was a strand of seaweed or a kid’s floating toy.

After a while, I turned on my stomach and did the dead man’s float—or dead chick’s float, in this case—and tried to return to the me I’d been this morning before the race, the one who wanted nothing more than to dot
i
’s and cross
t
’s with nobody bothering her.
That
me wouldn’t mind when Brody had his hands on Grace’s bikini.
That
me would accept Brody returning to Grace as the natural order of things.
That
me would know his kiss with me had been an impulse, like his four speeding tickets last year, and another ticket for toilet papering the football coach’s yard. My stomach hurt.

I felt something flutter against my stomach. This time I wasn’t fooled. It was no fish brushing against me. A boy had crept up on me and thought it was funny to pretend to support me as I levitated in the water. I knew it wasn’t Brody, who didn’t do anything halfway. He would have wrapped his whole arm around my waist and scooped me up. This touch, so light I could barely feel it, was Kennedy.

I surfaced, letting the water stream down my face, careful not to rub my eyes. Kennedy smiled smugly in front of me like he’d
really
surprised me that time! I laughed drolly just to keep the peace.

I wouldn’t have felt so indifferent about him last week. One interlude with Brody had ruined my relationship with Kennedy—without Kennedy even finding out!—and I wasn’t sure I cared.

“Do you want to leave?” Kennedy asked.

Together?
I almost asked in an astonished voice. But I wasn’t going to prolong my argument with Kennedy when Brody was all over Grace. I hadn’t glanced toward the beach since I entered the water, but I imagined Brody had taken her into the pavilion. That was a euphemism all Brody’s love interests could use, the Brody’s Fling Club.
Did he take you to the pavilion?

“This isn’t fun,” Kennedy said. I’d gotten so lost in my
own thoughts again that I’d almost forgotten he was there, complaining. “Funny how one jock turns the entire vibe into a fraternity mixer.”

There were two jocks here, counting Noah—three if you counted Will, even though our school didn’t have a hockey team. I assumed Kennedy was referring to Brody.

“No, I’m not ready to leave,” I said. “The sun hasn’t even set.”

“We have school tomorrow,” Kennedy said. “Are all the Superlatives pictures ready for me?”

“Not yet.”

“I need them.”

“It’s a holiday, and we still have a week and a half until the deadline.”

“What’s the matter with you?” Kennedy asked. “You’re so crabby. Do you have PMS?”

I whirled to face him. The movement of my shoulders made a spiral wave like I was a hurricane. The wave sped toward him and hit him in the mouth as I said, “Listen. Never ask a girl that. It’s offensive.”

“That answers my question,” he said.

A female could never win this argument. I said anyway, “I don’t see how you can claim to be such a progressive thinker but make that kind of comment to a woman.”

“Sor-
ry
!” he exclaimed.

“You know what?” I asked, my voice rising over the noise of the surf. “You offended me Friday with your meltdown about my friends and my
cupcakes
, for God’s sake. Now you’ve decided I’ve been punished enough, and you’re not mad at me anymore. Well, maybe
I’m
mad at
you
. And I deserve an apology. Not a ‘sor-
ry
!’ but a real one.”

He gaped at me. I stared right back at him. A large wave smacked me in the back of the head and threatened to knock me down. I dug my heels into the sand and held my ground.

Kennedy sighed. “I wasn’t saying anything against gays, just that I’m not one. I hear my dad in my head a lot. You haven’t met my dad.”

I shook my head.

“My dad doesn’t approve of my piercing, and he doesn’t like my hair.” He reached back to grip the ponytail at his nape. “Or enjoy indie films. You should hear what he calls me.”

I nodded. I didn’t have to meet his dad to identify the type. Plenty of men with this attitude had made their beliefs known during breakfast at the B & B, assuming everyone else agreed with them. Little did they know that gay couples had slept in their beds a few days before.

“At our age,” Kennedy went on, “what your dad says should roll off you, right? But for me, it doesn’t.”

“Me neither,” I said. I meant my mom.

“I probably won’t get to go to film school,” he said. “I might not make it to college at all. My dad doesn’t understand why I can’t stay here and take over the plumbing business, since the money’s good.”

In a matter of minutes, Kennedy had transformed in front of me. Knowing what he was dealing with at home clarified why he acted the way he did, and where his anger came from.

But understanding him better didn’t help me like him. I should have encouraged him to go to film school no matter what his dad said. At some point, I had stopped caring. I pictured him in ten years, a long-haired plumber claiming he could have gone to film school if he’d wanted, and making bitter comments about blockbuster movies that everyone else loved.

Instead of comforting him about his home life, I surprised myself by saying this: “You can’t give me the silent treatment anymore.”

“What?”

“The silent treatment. You get mad at me and stop speaking to me for days. I can’t stand it, and I’m not going to put up with it. My mom and dad did that to each other when my dad still lived at home.”

Kennedy stared at me across the water, like
he
was now having a revelation about
me
. A wave hit him in the chin, then another. Still he watched me.

Finally he said, “Me!
You
give
me
the silent treatment.”

“I certainly do not,” I said.

“You never say anything.”

“I’m saying something right now. I hear myself speaking.”

“You’re excruciatingly quiet. Dating you is like being given the silent treatment
all the time
.”

Well, maybe he shouldn’t date me, then, if it was such torture. Maybe we should break up. These words were on my lips as I glanced toward shore.

Damn my contacts, giving me excellent distance vision. Against my will, I focused on the island of our towels and umbrellas. Grace and Brody were sitting up, facing us, her body tucked between his spread legs. He massaged her shoulders.

Instead of breaking up with Kennedy, I grumbled, “Why don’t we ever make out?” If I was trying to prove to him that I was sane and logical and
not
on my period, the question wasn’t going to help. At this point, I just wished I could put on a show for Brody akin to the one he was putting on for me.