Some Kind of Wonderful (8 page)

Chapter 12

  
SPEEDOS, TUXEDOS, AND PIGGYBACK RIDES

W
hoa!" Meredith said when she came back, all wind-blown, from her yacht cruise that Tuesday afternoon. She stared up at the
steamer trunk in the living room and said, "Who moved in?"

"Oh, Sara-Beth stopped by," I said, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Oh
man\
I can't believe I missed her." When Meredith and Judith first met SBB, they were so starstruck that they could barely talk
to her. By now, Meredith was pretty comfortable around her, but she was always overly eager to hear about our hangouts. I
knew that if there was one person Meredith was more stuck on than Kennedy, it was SBB. "Did you guys have so much fun?" she
asked.

"So much fun," I said. "You should have seen it— her plane landed right on the beach outside our bungalow."

"Ohhh," she whined. "I wished I'd been around."

Hmph!

"Yeah, she was telling me all about what it's like to work with Jake Riverdale on the new movie. Apparently, he's a total
disaster." I felt a little guilty rubbing it in, but I couldn't really help myself.

"So jealous of you right now, Flan." She stepped around the steamer trunk. "Is she still here? Do you guys have something
awesome planned for tonight? 'Cause I was thinking—"

"Actually, she had to jet. They're trying to wrap up the last few scenes. She just left the trunk as a little souvenir." It
felt strangely good to tell Meredith something that impressed her. The past couple of days, when we actually
had
been hanging out, she'd been so dismissive that I'd almost forgotten that she used to consider me someone who was worth talking
to.

"Kennedy said I should invite you to the beachside dinner party tonight," she said.

"Um . . . " I stalled. The way she said it bugged me.
Kennedy said. . . .
How nice that Kennedy gave Meredith her permission to include me.

"We both figured you'd have plans already, but she said to do my best to bribe you to come." Meredith sat down next to me.
"I think she's trying to reach out to you but doesn't know how, so she's using me to sort of . . . mediate?"

"Did she say that?"

"Not exactly, but . . ."

I sighed. Maybe SBB was right. There was no use starting World War III. I should focus on the things I could control—like
my own experiences on this trip, not anyone else's. I definitely wasn't going to blow off the only offer I had. If Kennedy
wanted to be bitchy, I could just ignore her, right? And consider it part of the growing experience?

"Sure," I said. "I'd love to come."

"Yay!" Meredith said, and she sounded genuinely happy. "I need some Flan time. Especially since Judith pooped out, us Stuy
girls have to stick together, right?"

I nodded and smiled and offered her the first shower—again—but what I was thinking was,
am I
really cut out to be a Stuy girl? Am I really cut out to
"stick together" with Meredith?

I caught a glimpse of myself in the steamer trunk mirror: sitting on the couch, slumped over with a scowl on my face. Gosh,
if I had been looking like this all trip, I wouldn't want to hang out with me, either!

I sat up straight, put on a smile, and took a few deep breaths. It was amazing what it did for my appearance in the mirror,
and it made me feel a lot better inside, too. Maybe this was what SBB was talking about when she referred to "minor adjustments."
I felt a major attitude adjustment coming on. So what if the first twenty-four hours of the vacation had sucked? Maybe we
were just getting started.

After Meredith finished in the bathroom, I took a shower and let my hair air-dry in the warm sea breeze. I put on my favorite
Hollywould sequined flip-flops, a black Michael Stars tank top, and black hot shorts to show off my tan. I rooted through
the steamer trunk to see what spoils SBB had left in there and found a bottle of this really pretty pink Benefit highlighter
that, when dotted on the bridge of my nose and my cheekbones, made me look super sun-kissed and refreshed.

I even shared some of it with Meredith, who came out wearing a crazy kimono with her curly hair in a high bun.

"Whoa, Flan!" she said. "You look like a sun goddess. Don't stand next to me tonight, or I'll look way too pasty!"

"There," I said, dotting some highlighter on her cheekbones. "Your inner sun goddess has been released.
Now
will you stand next to me tonight?" I joked.

"Flan, you're the best. I'm so glad you brought me on this trip with you. There's nowhere I'd rather be."

For a second, I fought the urge to say
speak for
yourself.
But then I just smiled and said, "I'm starving. Let's hit the beach."

We found the long white banquet table set up on the beach outside the bungalow where TZ was staying with his cousin, Rob.
Rob had floppy brown hair and a great tan and, in the looks department alone, he kind of reminded me of Bennett.

The table was set for twelve, and I recognized a lot of the same kids from last night. I waved to Rena, and the real Paul
came over and gave me a high five.

"Glad you came to the party," he said. "Where's your friend Judith?"

"Oh," I said, trying to figure out how to spin this one. "She had to go back to New York. Family issues."

"Bummer," Paul said, his blond locks falling over his eyes.

It
was
a bummer. It seemed like Paul had a little thing for Judith. I really wished she'd stuck around— especially because, from
the looks of it, this party would have been a good chance for her to kick back and have a blast.

"I love how everything is so chic here," Meredith whispered at my side.

There were two men in black Speedo bathing suits, tuxedo shirts, and bow7 ties who came by to take our drink orders.

I actually thought it was pretty campy, but I just nodded and smiled at Mer.

TZ appeared out of nowhere and put one arm around us both. I almost jumped back, I was so surprised to find an arm around
me that wasn't Adam's.

"Please ignore the scantily clad men who are bringing you your Pellegrinos, ladies. My mother thinks they're
chic"

I narrowly avoided snorting out my Pellegrino, and I heard Meredith change her tune and mutter something derogatory about
their uniforms. I guess TZ seemed to find whatever she said hilarious and endearing, though, because he laughed and kissed
her on the cheek.

"Love this girl," he said.

"Where's everyone sitting?" I said, breaking away from the smooch fest.

I noticed the table was arranged with large sand dollars at each place setting that had our names printed on them to indicate
the seating arrangement.

When we sat down, I was sandwiched between Meredith and Rob. Rob ended up being super shy, and I made it my pet project to
get him to talk and even laugh a little bit at dinner.

"So, what's your favorite part of Nevis so far?" I asked him.

He leaned in to me. "This is sort of embarrassing, but I took the best nap ever today on a hammock. I never get to take naps
anymore. I felt like I was in preschool."

"Oh my God, I know," I said, trying to dismiss the nightmare I'd had yesterday about Kennedy. "Naps are a vacation necessity.
Tomorrow we should schedule a group nap time and just line up the hammocks."

This seemed to embarrass Rob, because he just blushed and said, "Cool."

But we laughed and dug into our mahimahi seviche. Maybe it was because Kennedy was sitting at the other end of the table,
but I was finally able to get over my Nevis issues and just enjoy myself.

Around the time they were serving us the creme brulee, I was realizing how quickly the night was flying by, and I knew that
I didn't want it to end. The whole table laughed when TZ asked a waiter if he could try on his uniform and again when Kennedy
did an impression of Mrs. Zumberg falling over herself drunkenly to flirt with "the help."

Sure, it was kind of mean, but that was Kennedy's sense of humor. When you were on the inside, it was hilarious. It was just
when you were on the outside of her jokes, or worse, the brunt of them that—wait, I wasn't thinking about that tonight. Tonight
was about creme brulee and starlight and the perfect sound the water made when it crashed up against the shore. I laughed
to myself when I realized that I'd just unintentionally SBBed myself out of a funk.

After dinner, we sat in a cluster on the beach, and Rob brought out his guitar. He didn't talk much, but he sure could sing.

"Free Bird!" a guy with dreadlocks named Josh jokingly called out. "You never sing Tree Bird' anymore."

"Yeah," TZ said, "and what about your excellent rendition of the 'Thong Song'?"

Rob made a gagging motion and started to play some old Neil Young stuff that I'd heard my dad play at home. It was totally
mellow and a perfect choice for the mood.

The moon was so bright that we didn't need a fire, and I noticed that Kennedy and TZ were each wearing one of Meredith's necklaces.
I guess she felt the
need
to make two more this afternoon. But actually, it was kind of cool to feel linked to the group because we were all wearing
the necklaces together.

Finally, we were all on the inside.

When the singing was done, the boys insisted on giving all the girls piggyback rides home to their respective bungalows. Actually,
it was entirely TZ's idea, but I think Rob kind of got into it when he hoisted me up on his back.

The whole clan of us laughed all the way home.

When we got to our front door, TZ whispered something in Meredith's ear, and she nodded. Rob shuffled awkwardly next to me.

"Did you have fun tonight?" he asked.

"So much fun," I said.

"Good," he said. "I was hoping you were having fun."

I hadn't told Rob that I had a boyfriend—not that I thought he'd ever try anything with me. He was way too shy and a little
too young for my taste (read: my age). Still, he'd been fun to hang out with for a night.

"Well," TZ said, "I guess this is goodnight. You girls want to kick it on the beach behind our place tomorrow? Say around
noon?"

"Perfect," I said, and Meredith nodded enthusiastically.

A few minutes later, the two of us were standing in the bathroom washing our faces before we parted ways at our bedroom doors.

"So," I said. "You and TZ?"

"Shhh,"
she said. "I don't want to jinx it. Nothing's happened yet. But omigod, how hot is he?"

"He's hot," I agreed. But it wasn't like Meredith to hold out on me. Usually she'd be spilling any details about even the
most minuscule encounter with a guy.
Omigod, he asked to borrow a pencil. What do you think
it means?

Now she yawned dramatically. "Sooo tired. If I don't pass out in ten seconds, I think I'll fall asleep standing up."

"Sure," I said. "Well, good night."

I got in bed and lay there for a minute with the light on. I wasn't actually that tired. I thought about how much fun I'd
had that night, how easy it was just to sit back and not get stressed about the little things that could have annoyed me.
Kennedy was going to be the way she was going to be, and there was nothing I could do about it. I was glad that at least Mer
and I were on better terms. It was going to make the rest of the week a whole lot easier.

I turned off the light and settled in to finally get some peaceful sleep.

But about three minutes later, I heard the very slow creaking of a footstep on a floorboard. Then another, and then another.
It was Meredith heading down the hall.

Where was she going?

Before I could get up and out of bed, I heard the back door click behind her. By the time I got to the window to look out,
I could only see her curly hair flying everywhere as she ran down the moonlit beach.

Chapter 13

NEVER CATFIGHT BEFORE COFFEE

T
he next morning, I made myself sit in the happy place. I tried to smile, even though I didn't feel like smiling. I tried to
make minor adjustments in my attitude and physique. I even tried calling my parents, but they must have unplugged their bungalow's
phone.

Still, even after all those efforts, I felt totally betrayed by Meredith. Worst of all, I felt ashamed of myself. It was embarrassing
to remember how I had thought everything was going so well last night just because I had the approval of a few high-and-mighty
private school kids.

And the thing with Meredith was really wigging me out the most. What had happened to her? In two days, she'd turned into a
completely different person.

I waited for her to get home from her wild night out. I sat at the kitchen table, twiddling my thumbs. After a while, I got
up and looked in the fridge, but my stomach churned at the thought of food. I twiddled my thumbs some more. I texted SBB.

SABOTAGED. REIGN OF TERROR CONTINUES. GETS WORSE.

But as soon as I sent it, a wave of guilt rushed over me, and I sent her a follow-up text.

NO NEED TO FLY OUT. JUST WANTED TO VENT.

She was such a good friend, and I didn't want to start taking her gracious overtures for granted. Still, I
did
want her to write back with some sage advice. And I knew when I was thinking of her advice as sage, I was really in trouble.

Ten minutes later, I gave up waiting for her response, because I realized I'd been staring at my phone, whose wallpaper was
a picture I'd taken of Judith, Meredith, and me standing in front of Out of the Kitchen!, our favorite dessert spot.
Ugh!
I deleted the picture and switched to a display of a particularly cute picture of Noodles wearing black Marc Jacobs sunglasses.

Much better. Back to thumb twiddling.

It was only eight in the morning, but I'd already been waiting for an hour. I slumped over the kitchen table and moped. I
couldn't help but imagine what TZ must have whispered in Meredith's ear last night, right before we all said goodnight. I'd
been on such a high at the time that I didn't even think too much about it. But now, my mind was swimming with unpleasant
possibilities.

Just wait till she's asleep, and then the rest of us can
start having fun.

Just like Kennedy always says, she's so unchill.

Lose the charity case and meet me on the beach.

"Please shut up!" I shouted out loud to myself.

"Uh, Flan, are you okay?"

Slowly, I lifted my head off the table. It was Meredith. She was standing in the kitchen doorway, looking a little bit afraid
of me. She kind of had good reason to be. I was definitely acting a bit crazy.

"Where were you last night?" I asked, feeling both embarrassed for having to call her out and indignant that she was pretending
nothing was wrong.

"What do you mean?" she said. Her voice sounded an octave higher than normal. "I was with you. Dinner on the beach? Remember?"
She giggled. It was a pretty fake and unbecoming sound.

"You know what I mean," I said. I couldn't believe she was lying to me. "I heard you leave in the middle of the night. Where'd
you go?"

"Nowhere. I just stepped outside for a minute. Fresh air, you know. I couldn't sleep." She shrugged and started pouring herself
a bowl of Kashi.

"You stayed out all night."

"No, no, I didn't." She was stuttering—-a terrible liar. She fumbled while closing the box of cereal, and I watched the color
rise in her cheeks. "I probably just got up earlier than you did this morning," she said. "I went for a walk."

"Meredith, what are you doing?" I asked, pulling myself up to sit on the counter next to her. "Since when do you have to lie
to me?"

"Since when do you interrogate me and make me feel like I'm a jailbird under your watch?"

I sucked in my breath.
What?

"I didn't mean it like that," she said quickly. "I just . . . crap . . . Flan, the truth is, Kennedy wanted to
go—"

I threw up my arms in the air. "Of course,
Kennedy
wanted to go . .
."

"She made me promise to keep the group super small. The kayak only held five people, and I didn't want to hurt your feelings.
I just thought it'd be easier if I didn't tell you. I didn't mean for this to happen."

I watched Meredith grasp for words and could see how miserable this was making her feel. Suddenly, it was easy for me to see
that the problem wasn't that Meredith was actively trying to exclude me. The problem was just that she could be a little spineless
and would probably have a really hard time standing up to Kennedy. My anger subsided, just a tiny bit, and I started to feel
more sorry for Meredith than anything else.

"You're going to get hurt," I said to her. As I said the words, I felt like Meredith's older sister, and I wanted to save
her before she made the same mistake I'd made with Kennedy.

"What are you talking about?" she said. She was looking at herself in the mirror, repositioning her curls on her head.

"Kennedy is going to hurt you, Meredith. That's just what she does. You don't know who you're dealing with. Maybe it's all
glamorous and exciting today, but I'm telling you, you're in way over your head."

Meredith's eyes got all squinty, and she took a step in my direction, pointing her finger at me.

"I get it. You're jealous."

"Meredith," I said, shaking my head.

"Admit it. You can't stand that I'm having fun here, and you're not. That I'm popular here, and you're not."

We stared each other down. This was a little intense for an early morning confrontation. Finally, I was the one who looked
away.

"Sure, okay, yes," I said. "I wish I were having as much fun on this trip as you are. I don't think there's anything wrong
with that. But what I'm saying to you doesn't have anything to do with being jealous. I know from experience that Kennedy
is not a good friend. I just don't want to see you make the same mistake I made."

Meredith rapped her nails on the table. I could see goose bumps rising on her arms.

"Did you ever think that your mistakes and your experiences turned out the way they did for a reason? That maybe I don't need
advice from someone who had to switch schools because she lost all of her friends?"

Ouch.
I took a step back, reeling from her words. I didn't even know what to say back. Since when did Meredith have a biting mean
streak in her? I was just trying to help.

Maybe it was time for me to face the facts. If Meredith had crossed over to the other side—as witnessed by her newfound major
bitchiness—then there was nothing else I could do.

I stood up from the table, went into my room, and closed the door behind me. Meredith slammed her own door, followed by all
of the drawers in her dresser. Her cell phone rang, and I tried to block out the conversation, but she seemed to be shouting
just for my benefit.

"Oh
heyyy,
Kennedy. Long time no talk, right? Ha! I know . . . I'm getting ready right now. We're going to look
so
hot with braids."

She paused, and I shook my head at the image of Meredith with cornrows in her hair. Her bone structure was all wrong. A friend
would warn a friend against such a possible style misstep. But were we friends anymore?

Her phone conversation with Kennedy continued.

"Who, Flan? No, of course she doesn't have plans . . . don't worry, I'll
go
out the window if I have to."

I made a face at Meredith through the wall and at Kennedy through the phone. How could someone be so evil that her evilness
could rub off on someone as innocent as Meredith?

A few minutes later, she jetted off to have her hair braided, and I was still lying on my bed staring at the ceiling. My phone
buzzed. SBB.

Hallelujah.

A real friend had come to my rescue. I opened my in-box and read her text message.

THEN IT COMES TO THIS. YOU MUST FIGHT THE GOOD FIGHT. STEAL THE QUEEN BEE'S HONEY—HER MAN.

I stared at the screen for a while and just took it in. Hmm. Not entirely logical, and not entirely written in the modern
English vernacular (was SBB suddenly filming a gladiator movie?), but at least her text was something.

Sure, going after anyone's love interest, especially when I had a love interest of my own (hmm, I should really call—or maybe
text—Adam, shouldn't I?) wasn't really my style. But then again, being treated this way wasn't really my style, either.

Maybe it was time to stop playing nice and rational, Flan Flood-style.

Maybe it was time to get even.