Page 9 of Turtle Bay

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"How did it go at Tasty Freeze?" Buttercup asked when I returned home a couple hours later. I could tell she was waving the white flag.

I returned the smile, ready to accept her olive branch. I hated being at odds with my mom. I missed her. This move was supposed to make things better. "Great," I replied, sinking down on the stool next to her.

"If you're hungry there's hummus and a vegetable pasta salad in the refrigerator," she said, looking up from the necklace she was crafting out of delicate purple wire.

"I'll eat something later. I met a couple guys yesterday who seemed cool. They invited me to hang out today," I answered. "They're having a party tonight."

"Guys?"

"Huh? Oh, girls too. You know what I mean," I added, bracing myself for a barrage of questions.

"Sounds fun," she answered, stringing an iridescent bead.

It was hard to tell by her tone of indifference whether she truly objected, but her interest at least seemed genuine.

"Yeah. I'm sure there'll be drinking, drugs, and probably some sexual shenanigans too," I teased, slipping back into my old persona, the one that wasn't constantly on edge.

"If you're lucky," she answered, returning my grin as she bent and contorted her piece of wire with a tool that looked like mini pliers.

I laughed. At least our exchange hadn't turned into a fight. That much I was grateful for. "I'm going to go change into my swimsuit," I said, leaving her lost in her beading.

Twenty minutes later I headed across the street with my chair and towel in hand, scanning the beach for the group I had befriended the day before. Figuring they would be somewhere near Evan's house, I walked into that general area and swept my eyes over a countless sea of sunbathers before coming to the conclusion that my new friends

weren't among them. I was about ready to give up in disappointment when I squinted into the sunlight behind me at the sound of my name. Placing a hand over my eyes to block the sun's blinding rays, I spotted Evan leaning against the wooden rail of the lowest of his house's three decks. Smiling in relief, I toted my beach chair through the sand toward the wooden steps that led to where Evan was standing.

"Hey," he greeted me. "Come on up. The gate's unlocked."

"Hey yourself," I answered, smiling coyly. "No beach today?" I reached the top of the steps to find a spectacular pool, complete with its own slide and custom-made waterfall. Leslie, Farrah, and Paris lounged on padded chairs with cucumbers covering their eyes. Their bodies glistened in the sun from tanning oil and all three appeared to be tuning out the world with their earbuds while they listened to music. Trevor and Steve floated on rafts in the pool, offering up halfhearted waves as a greeting.

"Some crap-ass daycare decided to bring, like, a hundred rugrats to this section of the beach earlier. Talk about ruining a perfectly good day," he complained, grabbing a beer from a stainless steel ice chest on wheels that was parked by the hot tub. He handed it to me without asking and pulled another out for himself. I accepted it without hesitation. I was no stranger to drinking. Buttercup and Butch prided themselves on making their own wine, and Butch had also spent a few summers perfecting his whiskey-making skills. After a few years, he was a pro at the whole fermentation-and-distillation process. Not that they allowed me to drink whenever I wanted to. They believed in moderation and saw nothing wrong with me sampling a drink or two on special occasions. I enjoyed the taste of wine, but discovered early on that whiskey wasn't for me. Actually, beer was my adult beverage of choice. Buttercup disliked the smell of it, and Butch could take it or leave it.

Holding out the bottle so Evan could twist off the top for me, I followed his lead as we sat on the edge of the pool, dangling our legs in the cool water that lapped at our knees.

"How was your thing last night?" Evan asked, scooting closer so our thighs were pressed against each other.

"What?" His movement momentarily distracted me as I glanced over at the others to see if they were watching us.

"Your date or whatever, last night. How was it?" he repeated nonchalantly. He was trying to act cool, though he was clearly digging.

I laughed, flattered that he assumed there was another guy in the picture. "Not a date. I had a job interview."

"A job, really?" He acted like he'd never heard the word before.

As if his house that looked like a small hotel wasn't evidence enough, the bewildered expression on Evan's face indicated that I might be out of my element with this group. Obviously, he had never held a job in his life. Was that really someone I could seriously consider dating? Not that I judged him. I just wondered how we could relate to each other. Back in Kansas, part-time jobs for kids our age were a given if you were lucky enough to have parents who allowed it. Considering there weren't that many part-time jobs to go around, you were envied if you had one. Having a job in a rural town meant freedom and independence.

"Yeah, at Tasty Freeze," I said, trying to interject enthusiasm into my voice.

"That's cool," he said, shrugging as he took a swig of his beer.

Neither of us commented on the matter further, which led to a stretch of awkward silence. I did the only thing I could think of, which was to slide into the pool, hoping the water might kick-start the conversation in a different direction.

"Sorry. I was hot," I said, observing Evan's questioning look when I came up for air.

"You were, huh?" He winked confidently as he slid into the water to join me.

Go figure, I thought, rolling my eyes. Boys were all alike—hormonally driven. "I think you need to cool off too," I said, devilishly splashing water his way.

A sinister smile spread across his handsome face. He really was good looking. Even in the pool with his hair messed up and water dripping down his face, Evan was hotter than the average guy. I giggled, trying to dart away from his stalking advances.


Tags: Tiffany King Romance