Lauren's Beach Crush (9 page)

Chrissy's was from the fifties. It was a delicate rose pink, fitted in the bodice, with thin spaghetti straps, and then it billowed out in a ballerina-like skirt. She did a little twirl in front of the mirror, and her dress spun out in a circle. Lauren thought the soft pink color of the dress made Chrissy's auburn hair look even prettier than usual, and she told her so. Chrissy beamed.

“I'm so glad you are totally abandoning your casual style!” cried Chrissy. “That dress is perfect.”

Lauren paused. Oh no. Was this dress a
total abandonment
of her casual style? “Should I not wear a dress?” she asked. “You're right. Charlie is so casual. Maybe I should just wear shorts instead.”

“Lauren,” Chrissy said with a bit of irritation in her voice, “you look beautiful in that dress. Anyone who sees you will see how beautiful you are in that dress . . . in any dress really. You are not going to wear shorts just because you think some guy would rather see you in shorts!”
Chrissy's voice had gotten louder and she stood there with her hands on her hips.

Lauren blinked. Was Chrissy yelling at her? She wasn't yelling exactly, but she was using that kind of Mom voice like when Mom was trying to make a point. But then Lauren looked in the mirror. The dress was really pretty. Chrissy was right . . . she should buy the dress and wear it.

“You're right,” said Lauren. “This is the dress.”

“I told you so!” squealed Chrissy. “I can't wait for the party.”

“Look!” cried Lauren. “The sun is coming out now. Beach time!”

They paid for their dresses, ran home, and got ready for the beach.

THE BOYS WERE IN THE WAVES, BODYSURFING,
when Lauren and Chrissy arrived at their usual spot. The waves were high today, and Lauren spotted Charlie riding in toward the shore, his strong arms propelling him along, his back tan, and as shiny as a wet seal. It took huge amounts of self control for Lauren not to stand and openly gawk at his gorgeousness.

The beach was much less crowded today, most likely because of the morning rain, but the sand was nearly dry. A warm breeze blew puffy white clouds across the sun, which peeked out frequently, bathing them in warmth. The wind gusted, blowing Lauren's hair across her face, and Chrissy and Lauren had to make several attempts at spreading out the large faded blanket, which billowed and flapped in the breeze. Finally they plopped down on top of it. Then they helped each other put on sunblock.

“I brought something for us,” said Lauren, her eyes sparkling. She pulled the item from her bag and showed it to Chrissy.

“A volleyball!” exclaimed Chrissy. “I wondered why your bag looked so full! I didn't know you played.”

“I don't,” said Lauren, looking at Chrissy over the tops of her sunglasses.

“Is this another plan of yours?”

Lauren grinned and nodded. “Well, I can't seem to find the right moment for Operation Cell Phone because the guys never seem to be lying on their blankets. They're always in the water or playing sports. So I thought I'd play the game too. The net is free. The guys are in the water. You and I can play. And then maybe they'll come join us.”

“I'm a total fail when it comes to volleyball,” Chrissy said, looking unsure.

“Me too,” said Lauren. “With any luck, the boys won't care how bad we are. They'll just think it's so cool that we're playing in the first place!”

Beach volleyball turned out to be extremely fun. Lauren and Chrissy volleyed the ball back and forth to each other, lunging, diving, and laughing as they fell in the sand. After awhile, Lauren saw the boys approaching out of the
corner of her eye. Frank and Charlie stood side-by-side and watched her and Chrissy, arms crossed, grinning.

“Want to play?” Lauren called to them, hoping her tone was just the right combination of casual and friendly.

Frank and Charlie looked at each other and shrugged. But to Lauren's disappointment, Charlie joined Chrissy on her side. Frank became Lauren's teammate. Her heart sank.

Chrissy and Lauren exchanged a look. Then Chrissy blurted out, “Nope. I call we make different teams. Girls against boys.”

Frank and Charlie looked at each other and nodded. Frank and Chrissy exchanged places.

“Prepare yourselves for immediate annihilation,” said Frank in a Martian-style voice.

Lauren giggled in spite of herself. Frank really was pretty funny, and it was cool the way he wasn't afraid to act goofy.

They began with simply volleying the ball back and forth. At first, Lauren and Chrissy were hopeless. The boys scored point after point, with Charlie announcing the score loudly and pumping his fist every time they made a point. Lauren and Chrissy laughed so hard at how
bad they were that Lauren's stomach almost started to hurt. But after a few more volleys, they got into a rhythm. Lauren figured out how to set up a shot for Chrissy, who almost managed to smash it into a place where the boys couldn't reach it. Then Chrissy did the same for Lauren, who jumped high and spiked it just inside the line.

“Nice shot!” called Frank admiringly. The girls had finally scored a point!

Charlie scowled. Lauren guessed he was pretty competitive, and that he wasn't used to losing a point. No wonder he was such a successful athlete.

“Volley for serve!” Charlie called gruffly. He wasn't smiling. He threw the ball up and then slammed a serve across the net. It seared its way down at a blistering speed. Both girls shrieked and jumped out of its path. Charlie grinned. “And that is how you do it!” he yelled to no one in particular. “Our ball!”

The game was lopsided, to put it mildly. But the girls managed to score two more points. The first time they both jumped up at the same time and the ball ricocheted off their arms at a strange angle, clearly unanticipated by the boys, and the ball dropped gently over the net on the boys' side, scoring the point. The second time, Lauren jumped
high and slammed it downward as hard as she could.

Charlie lunged for it, trying to hit it back over his shoulder as he laid himself out horizontally. But he couldn't reach it. The ball bounced just a few inches past his outstretched hands.

“Out!” he yelled, his face still in the sand.

Frank looked down at Charlie and tilted his head to the side. “Yo, bro,” he said gently. “I think it was in. Or at least on the line.”

“No way,” said Charlie, clambering back to his feet, sand flying everywhere. “It was
out
!” He said the last word with such force that Chrissy actually flinched. Then he stopped and looked at Frank and looked back at the girls. Then he made a dismissive gesture and said in a sulky voice “Okay. Fine. Their point. It's nineteen to three, us.”

The boys ended up winning twenty-one to three. By the time the game was over, the rest of the guys were standing on the sideline, waiting for the next game.

“Nice game!” said Frank. “You guys want to play another one?”

“No thanks!” said Chrissy and Lauren at the same time. Lauren was exhausted and hot and thirsty, but elated that she'd spent so much time facing Charlie across the net.

“Maybe we'll see you later, at the snack bar or something,” added Lauren hopefully. She and Chrissy walked back to their blanket and plunked down.

“That was awesome!” breathed Lauren, reaching for her water bottle in her tote bag. She took a long swig, but in her mind she was re-enacting the whole game. “Did you like playing with Frank?”

“I guess so,” said Chrissy in a quiet voice.

“Charlie is such an amazing athlete, isn't he?”

“He's an amazing jerk, if you ask me,” muttered Chrissy.

Lauren was sure she had misunderstood her. “What did you say?”

“Oh, come on, Lauren! He's such a poor sport! He argued practically every call and he was constantly jumping in front of Frank, hogging shots,” Chrissy said, unable to hold back her irritation. “Anyone who is that competitive over a silly beach volleyball game seriously needs to chill out!”

Lauren blinked at her. “I can't believe you said that about him,” she said. “He was just being competitive. That's what good athletes do. It's how come they're good athletes.”

Chrissy started to say something, but then seemed to
think better of it and said nothing. She pulled out her own water bottle and took a long gulp.

Lauren felt terrible. She didn't want to argue with Chrissy. She knew, deep down, that if Chrissy had a crush who was nearby—instead of thousands of miles away—she'd get it, and understand better where she was coming from. Everything would be so much better if Chrissy would just like Frank already!

“Speaking of good athletes,” she said in the most casual tone she could muster. “Frank was pretty good too, don't you think? I bet he's almost as good of an athlete as Charlie is—”

But Chrissy didn't allow Lauren to finish. “Seriously, Lauren?” she interrupted, her cheeks turning red. “Why are you pushing Frank on me again? I've told you I don't like Frank. I like Justin! Justin is my crush, just the way Charlie is yours! I know you have a plan. I know you want the Plan to work. But honestly I'm a little sick of the Plan. It's all you talk about and all you think about. Can't we please, please just talk about something else?”

“I waited the whole year to carry out this plan!” said Lauren angrily. “It's the whole reason to be here this summer! I don't care about anything else!”

Chrissy stood up, her eyes flashing. “Well, thanks. I know you weren't planning on having me here and believe me, now I'm sorry I am here too. And I might not know a lot about boys, but I don't think that the Plan is the way to win anyone's heart. You can't keep trying to be someone you're not. Someone whose every move is dictated by a magazine, and who changes the way she looks and acts to get a guy to notice her. You're great the way you are! Why can't you accept that? And why don't you want a boy to like you for that?” Chrissy took a deep breath and looked down at the sand. In a quieter voice she added, “I'm tired of the way you keep making me hang around with your precious Charlie because he's kind of competitive and stuck up, okay?”

Lauren didn't know what to say. She felt too upset to speak. The two girls stared at each other in stony silence for a few moments.

Finally Chrissy spoke. “I'm sorry. That was mean. I think I'm going for a walk to the pier. I'll be back in awhile.”

And she walked off, leaving Lauren alone.

LAUREN SAT ON THE BLANKET, STARING OUT AT
the ocean. The sky had clouded over again. The waves swelled high, then rolled toward shore and broke with foamy white water, then receded, leaving shining dark sand behind. Chrissy was a speck in the distance, but Lauren could see her, sitting on a jutting-out pier beyond an outcropping of rocks, maybe half a mile down the beach. So much for Chrissy becoming her BFF. They still had almost a week left of vacation. What would happen now? Would they fight the whole time? Would they be able to continue sharing a room? Keep up appearances in front of her parents? This was awful. Her eyes misted up, and the horizon line blurred in front of her.

Lauren replayed their fight over and over in her mind. Her thoughts were swimming. Charlie wasn't a jerk. Not her Charlie. He was perfect. Okay, maybe Chrissy didn't
like him, but that's just because she didn't understand him.

But what if she was a bad friend for concentrating too much on the Love Plan and not enough on Plan BFF? She'd never had a BFF before . . . or even a close friend, if she was really honest. Maybe she was as clueless about being a friend as she was about boys. Chrissy, on the other hand, at least had her sister, who sort of counted as a friend. Chrissy was used to dealing with stuff like this. Lauren was not. Lauren felt a surge of frustration at her parents for not having had any more children. Maybe if Lauren had a sibling, she'd have more experience in dealing with situations like these. Besides, there wasn't a Plan BFF. Chrissy just sort of became her BFF without trying so hard.

“You okay?” asked a voice.

Startled, she turned. It was Frank. He was standing near her, wearing a T-shirt over his wet, too-long blue swim shorts, looking concerned. For the first time, Lauren noticed that he had a sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of his nose, just as she did.

“Yeah,” said Lauren. “I think. Chrissy and I kind of had a fight about . . . well, about a bunch of things. She doesn't like the way I've been acting.” Had she just shared all this information with him? He was really easy to talk
to . . . unlike Charlie, who left her tongue-tied and unsure of herself. Maybe because he wasn't Charlie's caliber. He wasn't so intimidating, so take-your-breath-away gorgeous. He was just Frank. It was really sweet, Lauren realized, that Frank was concerned. Why couldn't Chrissy like him? He really was a great guy. Maybe if Chrissy saw how concerned he was, she would realize how great he was, unlike Justin, who might as well live on Mars, he was so far away.

“It'll be okay,” said Frank. “Friends fight sometimes.”

“They do?” asked Lauren.

“Well, sure,” said Frank. “I get annoyed with my friends a lot. But it all works out in the end.”

“Chrissy always thinks things will work out in the end too,” Lauren replied.

“Don't you?” asked Frank.

“Not without a plan,” said Lauren. “I mean, not a plan but, well, yeah a plan. I think you have to always know what you want to happen.”

“That sounds kind of boring,” said Frank. “Because if you don't know what's going to happen then you can have all these great surprises.”

“Oh, I hate surprises,” Lauren said quickly.

“What? How can you possibly hate surprises?” Frank asked.

“Well, they're just so . . . unpredictable . . . ” Lauren explained.