Sunset Boulevard (24 page)

wrapped her in a tight group hug. But, hey, a week ago she'd been losing her lunch on these

people, and they were still saying hello to her. Besides, she realized, maybe Myla's friends

were a little
jealous
. The idea that Myla would prefer Jojo's company to theirs thrilled Jojo as

much as it probably scared them.

Tucker came up beside her, and Myla not-so-subtly shoved Jojo in his direction. He put a hand

gently on her back and said, "I'll get you a drink." Book learning might not have been Tucker's

thing, but apparently he was well versed in the art of smooth, flirty hosting.

He led her outside, where the pool was crammed with bodies bobbing along to a new Creases

song featured in
Class Angel
. In the distance, the Malibu waves crashed along a vast expanse

of uninterrupted, and privately owned, white sand. Tucker steered Jojo past Olivia Abdabo,

holding court with a trio of girls on Myla's A-minus list. Olivia smiled at Jojo, and when Jojo

realized that Olivia was looking at her, she responded with a friendly wave.

Tucker's guitar-callused fingers fluttered over her lower back as they stopped before the

endless bar. Girls in tropical-print bikinis were mixing fresh fruit and rum, pouring the contents

into carved-out coconuts.

"Daiquiri? Colada? Margarita?" Tucker asked. His pale blue eyes picked up the turquoise of the

water, and he ran a hand almost nervously over his half-inch of naturally platinum hair. Ash

had told Jojo that his buddy got just one haircut a year: a buzz cut in September that would

grow to shoulder-length by the time school started again.
At least he's low-maintenance,
Jojo

thought.

"Whatever has the least alcohol," she said, feeling a little dorky. She wished she'd asked Myla

for tips on the best way to handle the situation. After her experience at Lewis's house, she

wanted to stay far away from anything remotely close to the Long Island iced teas that had

brought on BarfBarf. Still, she didn't want to seem lame.

"That's cool." Tucker grinned, sweetly pushing a strand of hair away from Jojo's face. "She'll

have a frozen margarita, go easy on the tequila. And make mine the same," he told the

bartender, a curvy brunette. He didn't look twice at her toned bare stomach, his eyes on Jojo the

whole time.

Jojo felt a warm sensation flow through her body. So what if Tucker wasn't an A student? He

was sweet. And he wanted to be with her.

Tucker handed her a coconut adorned with pineapple, mango, and papaya slices, and took her

other hand. "Come on, I'll make sure you have a good time."

As he steered her through a crowd of her dancing, laughing peers--each of whom gave friendly

nods and greetings--she felt pretty sure he would.

Jojo smoothed more SPF 32 into her chest. She ran her bare toes over the warm sand as she

took a deep breath of fresh, salty air. The crack of every wave sounded like a burst of applause:

Jojo felt wrapped in a blanket of social triumph. Okay, so maybe it was just the way warm

ribbons of sunshine fell across her body that made her feel so good. She was returning from

social pariah-dom with surprising speed. Not that she'd suddenly become co-ruler of the school

with Myla. But she was definitely holding her own.

The party had moved from the house to the beach. The girls lounged on cushy orange sun

chairs, lined up in order of ascension: Myla, then Jojo, Talia, Billie, and Fortune and a halfdozen others. Jojo was reaping the rewards from the Three Little Stalkers' behavior: Usually

Talia got to sit next to Myla. But Myla had patted the chair next to hers and told Jojo to sit.

Now Myla's friends were giving Jojo the cold shoulder, trying to pretend they weren't

interested in everything Myla said to her. Out in the waves, the boys were acting the parts of

laid-back alpha males, trying to outsurf one another. Music still poured from Tucker's deck to

the beach, and the bikini-clad waitresses made their way back and forth bearing fresh fruity

drinks. Down the beach, noise from another shindig wafted out to the shore. The BHH girls

kept checking in that direction for revelers to stray from the other party and emerge on the sand.

Rumor had it a Young Hollywood party was being held at the Polaroid House, which had been

built expressly to entertain celebrities and had its own gifting room where swag was handed

out. Some of the
Class Angel
stars were supposedly there.

"I swear that's Grant," Billie said, as she not-quite-stealthily put her rhinestoned binoculars up

to her face. She bit her lip in concentration as she focused the lenses.

"Give me those," Fortune scolded, yanking the binoculars from Billie's hand. Peering through

the lenses, she shook her head. "That's not him. It's just Robert Pattinson."

Jojo and Myla exchanged a look of disdain. The idea of Grant Isaacson shirtless had pulled

every girl to the beach. They'd all posed, somewhat pathetically, displaying their assets in hopes

of catching Grant's eye.

"Oh, I see someone coming," Fortune squealed, before sighing in disappointment. "Oh, it's

Kady Parker. And Jake."

Jojo turned and saw Kady and Jake approaching, Jake's arm around her. He looked cute in his

long trunks and a pair of aviators. A tinge of regret coasted over her body. She'd helped Jake

get to the costar-dating point, after all. And now he didn't even notice her.

Myla poked Jojo in the arm. "Check out your man," she commanded. As Jojo watched Tucker

through her Versace lens, she saw why Myla had picked him for her. He'd never cure cancer,

but damn if the boy couldn't surf. He was better than every guy out there, even Ash.

Tucker wore just his Hawaiian board shorts, even though the water was freezing--after

September, you had to be crazy to go in without a wet suit--his sculpted chest and abs bare and

tan. He looked like a bronze god as he rode his board.

"I wish Grant surfed," Olivia said, practically shouting from her chair at the end of the line, as

she rubbed Clinique sunblock onto her cheeks. "Tucker is so good, Jojo," she noted, as if Jojo

were responsible.

Jojo raised her eyebrows beneath her shades. After two hours, she was getting complimented

on Tucker's skills? They'd been pretty much strangers as of this morning, but with approval

from Myla, they were now a bona fide couple already.
Does it even matter what I want?
Jojo

suddenly wondered, thinking of Jake walking hand in hand with Kady.

Tucker rode his wave in to the shore, hefting his board under one arm and striding across the

sand. He made a beeline for Jojo, ignoring the scantily clad females surrounding her. His lips

cocked in a satisfied grin.

"You were watching me," he said mischievously.

Jojo felt her face grow hot. She thought she was
supposed
to watch him. And he
was
awfully

nice to look at.
Myla wouldn't be embarrassed in this situation,
she reminded herself.

"You were watching me too," she said, her voice composed.

"How could I not?" He knelt in the sand near her chair, his cold forearm brushing Jojo's thigh.

She felt the slightest of tingles activate in a wave over her body. He leaned forward, and put his

lips softly against her face, just next to her lips. Another tingle. She turned her head ever so

slightly, and their lips met--hers warm and dry, his cool and salty--and he kissed her. It was a

solid kiss--passionate, with gradually increasing force, almost like he'd practiced. Jojo couldn't

deny that he had skills. And maybe once they got to know each other better, there'd be more

behind their kisses than a mutual physical attraction.

As he broke away, Tucker squeezed Jojo's arm. "I'll see you later, okay?"

"If you're lucky," Jojo teased him with the half-smile again. Over Tucker's shoulder, Jojo

glanced at Myla. Her sister nodded approvingly, even though she never took her eyes off Ash

out in the surf.

Jojo reached out and clasped Myla's arm. "You should talk to him," she whispered, so none of

the other girls could hear.

Myla grinned appreciatively, shadows falling on her face beneath her wide-brimmed sunhat.

"You're right."

Myla hated the idea of trailing Ash as he left the water and headed up to the house, but Jojo

was right. She stayed twenty paces behind him, having excused herself to visit the powder

room.

She clipped through the glass doors, to find the big party room empty, save for Ash, checking

his texts.

"You're getting better at your cutbacks," Myla said, quietly sinking into the custom couch that

was big enough to seat ten comfortably.

Ash looked up from the phone and grinned. "Thanks, but not really. I sort of reversed direction

on that one wave by total accident. But I'll take the compliment." Little specks of sand dotted

his face just above his eyebrow. Out of habit, Myla reached up and brushed them away.

"Sorry," she said, drawing her hand away and rubbing a grain of sand between two fingers. "It

just looked itchy."

"It just looked itchy"? Who tries to have an intimate moment with their ex and uses the word

itchy
?
Myla thought. She was nervous. She wanted to ask Ash if he'd kissed anyone yet, but

she was almost scared to know the answer. It would probably hurt, and she'd probably be

jealous. But as crazy as her suggestion that he kiss someone else sounded, the only thing

crazier was their not being together. And if the only way Ash would know her kiss with Lewis

meant nothing was for him to have a meaningless kiss of his own, then so be it. The pain

would be worth it. Right?

"It's okay, My," Ash said, his gentle eyes seeming to ask why she'd followed him in here.

"So," Myla started, taking off her giant hat so he could see her eyes. "Have you... you know...

yet?"

Ash pushed a wet strand of hair, falling adorably in front of his eyes, out of his face. "What's

'you know'?" He grinned, half-amused. Myla cursed herself for being so uncharacteristically

fidgety.

"Kissed anyone," she said, looking at her hands. She couldn't look him in the eye.

Ash sighed, sinking backward into the cushions. "Seriously, this is ridiculous," he said. "Who

am I going to kiss, anyway? I'm not gonna make out with some BHH girl that I have to see

every day."

Myla winced at the idea of Ash kissing Fortune, or Billie, and suddenly she understood how

hard this was for him. But she needed him to understand that all kisses weren't created equal.

She wished he'd stop being so stubborn and get this over with. "Then pick a different girl," she

said, as an idea formed in her head. "Kiss Crazy Daisy. It's perfect. You might even get that nut

job out of your life if she gets mad and your dad finds out."

Ash said nothing, just hefted himself off the couch and sauntered back toward the door.

He looked back at her, chuckling lightly but with affection. "You know, you're a little bit of a

nut job too, My. It's why I fell for you in the first place."

He opened the door, the
whoosh
of the waves flowing inside. He headed back in the direction

of the beach, pulling up his wet suit as he went.

Myla felt her neck for the gold chain she used to wear Ash's ring on. It wasn't there, she

remembered, as her fingers kneaded against her collarbone.

But maybe she'd be wearing it again soon.

MACHIAVELLI WITH A MACCHIATO