My Bittersweet Summer (3 page)

When she finished, she pulled me in front of the three-way mirror to see how it looked on me from every angle.

“Not everyone can pull off that cut,” the woman working the store said, leaning in the doorway to the back area. “Congrats on being the first.”

“The first?” my mom asked. “Then it’s settled. Guess it’ll have to come home with us.”

“What?” I gaped at her reflection. “No way. We can’t—”

She waved me off. “We can and will. Stop being so dramatic, Margie. That dress is fantastic on you.”

My stomach churned. How did rich people swallow buying such expensive clothes all the time? What was wrong with t-shirts that didn’t get ruined if you left them on the floor in a heap overnight?

“Go change,” she said, turning me back to the stall. “We’ve got a few other things to pick up, and we’re running out of time.”

Grudgingly, I returned to my clothes, throwing on my jean shorts and red t-shirt while grumbling to myself. What in the world possessed my mother? I was going to be terrified of wearing that thing without ruining it. Stepping back into my sandals, I emerged from the back area and handed over the extravagant purchase to the woman working there. She smiled pleasantly, and there wasn’t a hint of derision in her expression, though I’d expected one, given her usual clientele.

Seventeen hundred dollars and a pair of new shoes for me later, I felt sick. My mother seemed completely fine with it, however, so I tried to tell myself not to worry.

She looked at her phone, thumbing through items on her to do list. “Two things left.” She slid it back into her purse. “Do me favor and run across the street to the bakery? I asked Elena to order a few things in bulk for me while the vendor accounts got switched over, and she let me know they’re ready for pick up. You remember Elena, don’t you?”

“I think so,” I said. “Destiny’s mom?”

She nodded. “That’s her. Can you grab the order for me? It’s a few smaller boxes, so not very heavy. I need to pick out new napkins in the linen shop a block down, and I don’t want to run up against a time crunch.”

“Sure thing,” I said.
 

A visit to the Edelweiss Cake Shop? Now that was an errand I was happy to run. I wondered if Elena still made the snickerdoodle cupcakes I loved. They were always my favorite as a kid. Sometimes they were the only things I could keep down with my stomach issues back then. Maybe if I played my cards right and got on her good side, I’d figure out her secret to making my ultimate comfort food.

Checking for traffic, I crossed the small width of Main Street and opened up the elegantly frost-framed door to the bakery. Looking around, the interior had gotten a sleek new update, with pale gray fern leaves winding their painted way across icy blue walls, and two white, floral-themed cake tables in the window, but the feel of the place was the same, courtesy of the luscious scent hanging in the air, and likely permeating the wooden floorboards. It smelled of espresso, butter, and sugar.

It smelled like comfort.

The bell on the door jangled as I closed it behind me, and a woman popped up from behind the glass bakery case, a touch of powdered sugar clinging to the end of a dark blonde lock of hair hanging in front of her ear.

“Good afternoon,” she said warmly, brushing her hands against the skirt of her gray apron. “Welcome to Edelweiss.”

“Mrs. Plummer?” I asked, double-checking I had the right person.

“That’s me. What can I help you with, young lady?”

I eyed the case as I approached, excited to see my favorite treat sitting on the top shelf. “I’m Margaret Walsh. My mom sent me to pick up some boxes?”

Her blue eyes widened. “Margie?”

My cheeks flushed at her reaction. “Yes, ma’am.”

With an excited squeal, Elena Plummer hurried out from around the counter to hug me tightly. “Oh my goodness, you’re so grown up! Look at you!” She pulled away from me, beaming. “Destiny will be so excited you’re here for the summer. We weren’t sure you’d come.”

“Well,” I grinned, sheepish, “here I am.”

She squeezed my shoulders and retreated to the back. “Wait one minute. I’ll get Janet’s order.”

As she collected whatever it was, I hovered over the bakery case, gazing at the snickerdoodle cupcakes with their dusting of sugar crystals and cinnamon. I suddenly regretted my decision to leave my purse at home, but I hadn’t considered I might want to buy something.

“Here we are,” Mrs. Plummer said, setting two foot-long boxes on the counter, a third smaller square one on the top. She pulled out a scrap of receipt tape and handed it to me along with a pen. “If it’s okay, could you leave a phone number for Destiny? She’ll be upset with me if I don’t at least ask.”

I smiled. “Oh, sure.” I scribbled down my cell number. “Tell her she can text me or whatever, tonight if she wants.” Writing my name over the number, I added a little smiley face after, hoping it would encourage her to get in touch. Destiny had been one of the very few people I remembered fondly from my childhood, mostly because whenever she was around the other kids mostly left me alone. Unlike me, her parents had no qualms about letting their daughter throw a punch when the situation required it. Only two kids had to learn that the hard way, the rest didn’t need to be told.

I handed over the paper and smiled as I picked up the boxes, noting a very familiar scent of snickerdoodle cupcakes wafting from the smallest package. “Thanks, Mrs. Plummer. Good to see you again.” I opened the door, stepping back out onto the breezy street.

The van wasn’t far, and I stashed the boxes in the back, cramming them in between the other stuff my parents had to take to Le Beau Tournée. Locking it behind me, I headed down the street to offer opinions on napkins to my mom.

Halfway to the linen shop, I jerked to a stop. A sleek black car pulled up to the curb, a uniformed driver exiting to let the rear passengers out. Three guys tumbled out the back, laughing loudly at some inappropriate joke one of them told seconds before. Panicked, I ducked into a tiny space in between two shops on the pretense of adjusting my sandal buckle. I wasn’t completely sure, but those guys looked familiar enough I wasn’t willing to risk a confrontation.

“Jesus, Matt,” one of them said, still laughing. “Your mother would strangle you if she knew.”

Another snorted. “Whatever, man. What about you? You think the ever-proper Olivia Robinson wouldn’t crap herself if she knew her son trashed the yacht during spring break last year?”

My heart officially stopped in my chest… Right before it started racing uncontrollably. If that was Zachary Robinson, that meant the Matt he was talking to had to be…

“Hey, I cleaned that up myself, asshole,” Zach said, and I heard someone get pushed. “Unlike you, who claimed your car was stolen when they found it wrecked last month.”

“It
was
stolen. By the wind. Car surfing is risky business.”

One of them groaned. “Car surfing with your dad’s Lexus? Do you have a death wish? The worst I’ve ever had is a fender bender when that grandma rear-ended me last year. Even then, my parents gave me endless lectures about driving safety, and it wasn’t even my fault. I’d never see keys again if they caught me doing something stupid like car surfing.”

“Yes, well, the Dominic Preston, Esq. household must maintain their façade of perfection if one is courting the biggest corporations in all of Britain,” Matthew said in a fake, over-the-top accent.

That last bit of information was all I needed to piece together who stood between the linen shop and me. Zachary Robinson, Matthew Rosenberg, and Lance Preston: three of my biggest tormentors as a kid. Matt was always the worst of them, consistently leading the charge in whatever form of torture he’d thought of that day. The fake mice had been his idea.

Still hidden in the partial alley, I tried to get a grip on what to do. Why weren’t they moving off? Did they have nothing better to do than loiter outside a stationary store?

“Where’s Avery, anyway?” Matt said. “If he doesn’t show up soon, we’re checking out the jet skis without him.”

And Avery Daniels, too? My timing couldn’t have been worse. All I needed was the ghost of Chad Burkeheart returning from his drunk driving wreck and the whole gang would be back together. I couldn’t keep hiding forever, though. Eventually they’d pass by and catch me crouched beside a dumpster, and the relentless badgering would start all over again.

I took a deep breath. “If I let other people dictate my happiness, I never will be,” I whispered to myself. It was time to take charge of my life. I refused to give them control of my world again.

Setting my shoulders and adjusting my sunglasses, I stepped out of the alley, adjusting my sandal strap one last time before heading down the sidewalk. For an additional distraction, I took out my phone and started scrolling through emails, reading over the last one Angela sent me to bolster my courage. I pretended to be completely engrossed in the text the closer I got. I tried to convince myself I wasn’t the reason they’d stopped talking.

No eye contact. Don’t look at them. Don’t. Look.

Three more steps and I’d be in the clear.

One.

Two.

“Christmas came early boys,” Matt said. “Looks like Santa already delivered my present.”

Ignore it. Ignore it. Keep walking.

I heard him behind me before he fell into step with me.

“Hey,” he said, his perpetual smug grin audible in his tone. “Where you going, beautiful?”

I stopped, accepting that the whole stupid day wasn’t going to go my way. “Depends.”

Matt leaned up against a streetlamp, flashing a lecherous smile at me. “On what?”

Gracing him with nothing but cool regard, I shrugged. “On how far I need to go to get away from you.”

He straightened, stunned, and looked at me through the space between his floppy brown hair and the top of his sunglasses. God, how I hated that haircut. It was the same one he’d had since fourth grade. “Excuse me?”

I turned, ready to ignore him again. “Pretty sure I didn’t stutter. Get lost.”

I managed to get a whole three feet away before I felt the hand close over my forearm. Matt spun me around, and I had to step back to keep from falling.

“What did you say to me?” he said, anger lacing his words.

His grip on my arm tightened, sending a spike of violent emotions straight through me. Fear was the first of these, but then…

It rose up in me— hot, demanding, absolute. Staring at his face, being that close to him, hearing the threat in his tone… Rage exploded in my head, every nerve in my body sizzling with it. The world disappeared, reduced to only him and the ghosts screaming in my brain.

Unaware I’d moved, nothing else registered until I heard the loud smack of my palm connecting with his cheek. His fingers released me as he spun slightly, stunned by the blow.

“You’d do better to lead with your fancy car,” I hissed at him. “Then your gross personality can’t get in the way of your daddy’s money.”

Beyond furious, I stomped away, not stopping to even glance at the other guys watching on. How dare he touch me? What the hell right did he have to that, or so much as a word from me? I hoped he bit himself when I hit him. Let that stick around for a few days as a reminder to his ego.

The rush of adrenaline scurried away as I set my hand on the handle of the linen shop door. When my mom looked up, taking in what I could only imagine I looked like, she hurried away from the fabric samples spread on the counter beside the register and took me by the shoulders.

“Dana, do you have a restroom?” she asked.

Some woman led us to the back room and my mom ushered me into a private bathroom. She took my face in her hands once the door was locked and smoothed the loose hair back from my forehead. “What happened, Margie?”

Hot tears dripped down my cheeks, but I couldn’t find words. The second I opened my mouth to speak, I instantly closed it again, rushing over to the toilet to heave my entire lunch into the bowl. While it had been exciting and relieving to lash out at someone who’d been so utterly horrific to me for years, all I was left with was nauseous dread for whatever it was going to bring in retaliation. My mom held my hair and rubbed my back gently, whispering for me to let it all out and take my time.

How was I going to make it through three more months?

OMG lady! So excited ur back in town! :) :) :)

My phone buzzed, and I rolled over to check it. Mixed emotions swirled inside me. How should I respond? Fake excitement I was back in hell? Derisive sarcasm about the situation? I rolled my eyes. It was Destiny. It didn’t require overthinking.

Hey Des! Glad U stuck around.

Don’t get me started. Run into any of THEM yet? Think you can avoid them? I keep trying, but you know how it is.

Yeah. I know. Small island.

I purposely avoided answering her question. The last thing I wanted to do was revisit the horror show of that afternoon.

So whatchu doin? We need to catch up!

Totally. Not sure what my schedule will be yet.

U busy now?

I swallowed. Remembering how Destiny was, it wouldn’t surprise me in the least if she’d try to drag me out to a party or something. That was about the last thing in the world I wanted. An idea struck me, and my fingers flew across the keyboard with a reply.

Was thinking about making some cookies, but I’m strapped for kitchen stuff right now.

Her response came immediately.

COOKIES?!?! Woman I will be there in ten. Pick you up? Same house, right?

I grinned to myself. If there were some things that never changed, Destiny Plummer’s addiction to my chocolate chip cookies was one of them.

Yep. Sounds good. Can’t wait 2 C U!

I left my parents a note taped to the front door and grabbed my purse after a quick run through my hair with a brush. Admittedly, I was a little nervous seeing her again after six years. She seemed really excited, and I didn’t want to be a huge letdown. Granted, what passed for super exciting in Carrinaw was generally some sort of gossip about a scandal, so that probably got old after a while. Bad news for some people, me in particular, was probably good for her. I was a “new” face that wasn’t one of the high society snobs. Friends weren’t easy to come by for the working class kids.