Lauren's Beach Crush (2 page)

IT WASN'T THAT LAUREN DIDN'T LIKE CHRISSY.
Chrissy seemed pretty nice. But Lauren didn't know her all that well. Chrissy had moved with her parents from Santa Monica the previous fall. Lauren and Chrissy had been in the same math, Spanish, and social studies classes, and they were definitely friendly and sat at the same lunch table and stuff. But they were hardly BFFs. Lauren's mom loved Chrissy's mom, and they were always “double dating” as Lauren's mom said. Their parents had dinner together practically every Saturday night. Lauren realized that made her mom and Chrissy's mom BFFs.

Why did Lauren's mother have to be so nice all the time? Every Thanksgiving they had at least half a dozen unexpected people at their table. They were those with nowhere special to go, whether it was somebody from the office, or friends of friends they'd just met, or totally random people
her mom had met in line at the grocery store who had no other plans. Okay, maybe not the last, but still.

Lauren's mom and Chrissy's mom had met each other at a book club that gathered every other Tuesday night. They'd become pals. Lauren was starting to get a little mad. Just because their moms were great friends didn't mean that Lauren had to be great friends with Chrissy. And even if Chrissy was nice—which she was—that did not necessarily mean that Lauren wanted to spend every moment of her three-week vacation with her! And share a room with her. And probably have her around like every second of every day.

And, most importantly, how on earth would she execute the Love Plan with Chrissy hanging around?

“Easy does it, Lauren,” she said to herself softly. “This is not necessarily the end of the world.”

But she knew it was. Because in truth, Lauren had spent pretty much the entire school year telling all of her friends and anyone else who seemed willing to listen that she and Charlie Anderson were already going out. Which wasn't exactly totally true. In fact, it wasn't even a tiny bit true. The truth was, they had only spoken once, for exactly thirteen seconds.

It had been on a hot day last summer, two weeks into their stay at the beach house. Lauren had been out shopping with her mom. After a day of dragging her around to boring antique stores, Lauren's mom took pity on her and let her go get an ice cream at Rudy's by herself while she finished up shopping across the street. Instead of getting a cone, Lauren ordered her favorite drink—a strawberry frappé with whipped cream. When her order came up, the girl behind the counter called, “Strawberry frappé with whipped!” and Lauren jumped up to get it and practically collided with Charlie, who she'd been crushing on from afar for two straight summers. It turned out, they had both ordered the same thing! He'd been sitting with his friends, around the corner at the long table. Lauren almost couldn't believe it. He loved strawberry frappés with whipped just as she did! What were the odds of that? It had to be a sign.

After a brief, semi-awkward moment when the girl had apologized to them for not realizing it was two separate orders and went off to whip up a second frappé, Lauren and Charlie actually spoke. Their one and only conversation. It went like this:

Lauren: “Small world, right?”

Charlie: “Right.”

Lauren: “Um, they sure have awesome frappés here! They're all really good, but strawberry's definitely the best, don't you think?”

Charlie: “Yeah, they're awesome.”

Then Charlie stared out the window and waited for the second frappé. Lauren racked her brains trying to come up with something else to say, but it was like she had suddenly lost the power of speech. After an eternity the girl slid the second frappé across the counter for Charlie. Lauren awkwardly lifted her cup in a good-bye gesture and left the shop so Charlie wouldn't see her sitting by herself at a table and think she had no friends. She drifted down the block, barely seeing the world in front of her, playing and replaying the conversation in her mind and visualizing his perfect face. The way one side of his mouth lifted in that lopsided grin he had. The way his light, bright blue eyes stood out against his perfect tan skin. The way his sun-bleached blond hair looked so adorably shaggy. She'd been so distracted thinking about Charlie that she'd almost walked into a parking meter.

And that was the only conversation she'd ever had with him. But even though they had only spoken once,
she felt she knew him. After all, she'd been watching him for two summers now. She knew he had a mom and dad and older sister. She knew there was a grandmother in the mix. She knew roughly where his summer house was situated even though she wasn't sure exactly which one it was—right near the beach, one of a clump of houses overlooking the dunes. It wasn't that she was spying on him exactly. Well maybe a little. But Lauren preferred to think of it more as “collecting evidence.” Knowing details about him helped when she was formulating the Plan.

But that wasn't all she knew about Charlie. She had observed him many times with his parents at the beach, staring around the side of her book or magazine, her gaze camouflaged behind her big sunglasses. She knew a lot about his family. His dad was tall and handsome for an old guy—no surprise there, given how handsome Charlie was. His mom was blond and pretty, with a cool haircut and expensive-looking sunglasses. She seemed to really like water, because she was always carrying around an enormous bottle of it. Lauren had only seen Charlie's sister a couple of times. The first time had been at the beach last summer. For a sickening moment, Lauren thought she was Charlie's beautiful girlfriend, but then she noticed
the family resemblance and relaxed. One day Lauren watched as Charlie threw sand all over his sister and she ran around shrieking and yelling at him. Charlie yelled back and moments later his sister stomped off. The next time Lauren saw them on the beach, they seemed to be fine with each other. Lauren wondered if this was the way brothers and sisters acted all the time, teasing each other and arguing, but then acting later like nothing was wrong. She didn't necessarily want a brother or sister, but she was always curious about what it must be like.

Knowing everything there was to know about Charlie was a big part of the Plan. Thinking of the Plan again, Lauren felt a knot form in her stomach. How would Chrissy respond when she discovered Lauren had lied about her relationship with Charlie? Worse yet, how could she possibly execute the Plan with Chrissy around for the whole trip? Lauren groaned again and fell back onto her pillow, squeezing her eyes closed. Disaster.

And then she heard the doorbell ring. “Lauren,” her mother called, practically singing. “Chrissy's here!”

She sat up. She had to act normal, natural. She had to feel out Chrissy, figure out how she might react. Should Lauren even mention Charlie? Should she just avoid the
subject entirely? Maybe Chrissy wouldn't remember anything about Charlie. Maybe once they got to the beach, she could separate herself from Chrissy somehow and launch a revised version of the Plan. Lauren sighed. This is why she hated surprises. All her carefully laid plans . . .

Lauren tried to put on a cheerful face as she went downstairs. Chrissy was standing in the front hall next to her mom, a large rolling suitcase and a smaller duffel at her feet. Chrissy squealed with delight and threw her arms around Lauren, hopping up and down with excitement. Chrissy was like that. Enthusiastic and bubbly. Lauren had to admit, it was hard not to feel happy around her.

“My mom accidentally spilled it and told me last week!” she said, her long auburn hair bouncing, her big brown eyes sparkling. Chrissy had a backpack slung on one shoulder and was leaning sideways a little under its weight.

Lauren wondered what was in there. Books? Makeup? The summer math packet? She wasn't really sure what Chrissy was into. Lauren knew Chrissy was smart and that she got good grades. She was also a good gymnast. But what else? What if Chrissy was really into clog dancing or antique quilt collecting or something else Lauren didn't know a thing about?

She realized Chrissy was talking to her.

“I've been bursting to text you to talk about what to pack and everything, but our moms wanted it to be a surprise so I couldn't. Were you so, totally, surprised?”

“Totally,” said Lauren, hoping her voice sounded sincere. Of course, she had been surprised, that was for sure.

“Why don't you bring Chrissy up to your room to help you bring down your stuff?” suggested Lauren's mom. “Your dad wants to be on the road in an hour or so to get ahead of rush hour traffic. And you know how he gets with his plans.” Yes, Lauren thought. She certainly did.

Chrissy followed Lauren upstairs. Lauren realized with a start that Chrissy had never seen her room. It was weird—they knew each other from school, but this was a totally different situation. Having someone see your room for the first time was always a little stressful. You could tell a lot about a person by looking at her stuff. What if Chrissy didn't like what she saw? Worse yet, what if she said something rude about Lauren's room and her decorating taste? This could be a long three weeks.

They walked in and Lauren darted a look around, trying to see her room with new eyes. One wall was covered in torn-out magazine pages, inspirational
sayings, and a few posters of boy bands and her favorite actor from a show about teen vampires. She'd recently talked her mom into repainting her room from the little-girly pink to her favorite shade of purple. Her bedspread had a black and purple pattern on it that Lauren loved. The bookshelf was crammed with books, and there were more stacks of books lined up on the floor in front of the bed. Lauren loved to read, and it wasn't unusual for her to read up to three books in a week, especially during the summer. Her favorite books were mysteries. Would Chrissy think she was too much of a bookworm?

Chrissy threw herself backward on the bed, bouncing up and down a little. “You have an awesome room!” she said. “I love all the purple!”

Lauren smiled with relief and relaxed a little.

“I'm pretty much ready to go,” said Lauren, moving to her dresser and collecting the plastic zipper bag full of shampoo, lotion, and hair accessories. She looked at her packing list and checked all of them off. “Okay, that's the last of it.”

Chrissy sat up and drew her knees under her chin, hugging her legs and giving Lauren a sly look. “So . . .
are you totally psyched to see Charlie again? Do you guys have a plan to meet the second we get there?” Then she lowered her voice and asked in a dramatic stage whisper, “Do your mom and dad know all about him, or do we have to keep it a secret?”

So much for Chrissy not remembering about Charlie. “Um, not—no. Not exactly,” Lauren stammered. She could feel her heart beating fast in her chest. And from the warm feeling on her cheeks, she realized that her face had probably turned beet-red, which had the charming effect of making the freckles sprinkled over the bridge of her nose stand out all the more.

The sly smile fell from Chrissy's face as she watched Lauren's transformation, and she immediately looked concerned. “Should I not have brought him up? I'm sorry! Is everything all right between you two? You didn't, like, break up, did you?”

“No! No, of course not,” said Lauren hastily. Then she thought again. Maybe she should tell Chrissy they had broken up, and that she never wanted to talk about Charlie again. They'd have to avoid him for the entire vacation. But then she'd have to abandon the Love Plan. And wait a whole year before she saw him again.
She felt her eyes grow hot. She was not going to cry! That was absolutely positively not going to happen.

“Sorry, Lauren. I didn't mean to upset you!” Chrissy looked even more concerned and a dark cloud of worry passed over her pretty face. “I'm really sorry if I said something wrong . . . ”

Lauren turned her back on Chrissy, clutching the edge of her desk. What should she do? Her mom always said that she couldn't go wrong telling the truth. But what if she told Chrissy and Chrissy thought she was an awful liar? And they still had to spend another three weeks together. Lauren gulped.

“Okay, I have to tell you something,” she said in a low voice. She walked over to her door and closed it quietly to make sure her parents couldn't overhear them.

“What?” asked Chrissy breathlessly.

“It's a huge secret I haven't told anyone. Not even my mirror. Do you swear to keep a secret?”

“Swear,” said Chrissy with a solemn expression as she used her finger to draw an imaginary
X
over her heart. Chrissy slid her knees down and sat on the edge of Lauren's bed, regarding her with a serious,
you-can-trust-me
expression.

“I . . . I . . . I am a little embarrassed about this,” said Lauren.

“You don't have to be embarrassed about anything!” said Chrissy. “After all, we're going to be living together for the next three weeks.”

I know,
Lauren thought miserably to herself.

“Well, I, um, I kind of exaggerated a little about Charlie.”

“You mean he's not as cute as the lead singer of the Flaming Hearts?” laughed Chrissy. “That's okay. I never would have held you to that!”

“No, it's not that. He actually is that cute. Cuter, in fact,” said Lauren with a shaky smile. “The thing is, I exaggerated about us. Well, about our relationship.”

“Oh, that's okay!” said Chrissy. “My sister always tells me that girls always think it's more serious than boys do. It happens to her all the time!”

Lauren was flustered but she went on. “No, it's . . . well . . . Okay we're not exactly going out.”

“Oh, so you're just like friends but it might be more?” asked Chrissy. “That happens to my sister too. All of her boy friends are in love with her actually. They always think their friendships are more than they are. But one of
them totally turned into her boyfriend. So it can happen!”