Taming Chloe Summers (Grover Beach Team #7) (18 page)

Chloe

“I didn’t order this,” I tell the waitress with a confused frown as she places a bright-red cocktail in front of me. She doesn’t even card me.

“The young man you’re with ordered it for you.”

“He bought me a cosmopolitan?” I didn’t know, Justin even owns a fake ID to get drinks in a public place. He hasn’t returned from his trip to the restroom yet, but if this is his sick way of testing me—or worse, torturing me by drinking it himself while all I can do is watch and grind my teeth—I
will
find some poison for his coffee tomorrow.

The waitress has only an apologetic smile for me. “We’re out of shakes.”

“Aha.” Now, if this doesn’t explain it all… I roll my eyes but don’t move an inch closer to the cocktail, even thought my mouth is watering at the shiny red liquid. My fingers are itching to grab the glass. I shove them under my butt and glare at Justin as he strolls back to our table, a bottle of beer he nabbed from the bar in his hand.

“Not good?” he mocks with a nod at the cosmopolitan as he slides back into the booth opposite me.

“You know I can’t drink this,” I mutter. “And you shouldn’t be drinking, either.” Whether he’s already twenty-one or not doesn’t matter. “You’re supposed to drive us back in a bit.”

“I think you can. And you should.” With two fingers on the bottom of the glass, he shoves the drink toward me, sending me a tentative look from under his lashes. “You won’t get any more drunk from this than I will from this beer.” As he turns the bottle around and holds it out to me, I read the label with surprise.

“It’s nonalcoholic?”

“Mm-hm.” He takes a swig then smiles in a way that burrows right under my skin. “Would be a bit unfair to you otherwise, don’t you think?”

His solidarity is appreciated, even if I don’t tell him that. “So what is this, if not a cosmopolitan?”

Justin dips one finger into my drink and licks off the liquid with an exaggerated smack. “It’s a
J. Andrews Sour
. Try it. It’s good.”

Carefully, I sip the juice. Eyes narrowed at him, I swish it through my mouth, trying to identify the exotic taste. “Cranberry and lime?”

He slowly arches his eyebrows and cocks his head with a taunting grin. Next he clinks his bottle against my glass. “To scary rides and friendship revivals.”

His toast coaxes a giggle from me. “I’ll drink to that.” And the juice—even nonalcoholic—creates an explosion of taste on my tongue. It’s deliciously refreshing. I’m even itching to throw him a kiss for the small gesture. But of course I don’t.

Justin puts his bottle down and draws in a breath to say something funny, no doubt. Except, the next instant, his eyes flicker to the window and his face goes blank, as if in shock, for an infinitesimal moment. “Must be the summer of reunions,” he mutters before refocusing on his beer.

I shift in the booth to peek outside. There’s no one on the street. “What’s wrong with…” The last words die in my throat as the door behind him opens and a young woman in a black top and hot pants walks in with a huge smile on her red-painted lips. Lesley.

Oh. My. God.

Her black ponytail sways behind her neck, and the clacking of her thigh-high stiletto boots echoes aggressively through the cafe as she strides toward us. The sound works like a switch to my stupor, urging me to rise from the bench.

“Chloe! What in the world are you doing here?” she cries out, a load of shopping bags sliding from her arm and dropping to the floor when she hugs me.

I return the embrace with more reluctance than I should and stammer, “We—er—I had to get some stuff from town. For the kids. And Justin gave me a lift.”

As if she’s only now realizing I’m not alone, she releases me, glances Justin’s way, and says coldly, “Oh, right.” Her features harden. “Andrews.”

“Caruthers,” he replies with the same hostility in his voice as he barely looks at her.

It suddenly feels like there isn’t enough air to breathe for the three of us. Struggling to get a grip on myself, I utter hoarsely, “But why are
you
here?”

“Shopping, darling.” Her exaggerated beam is right back in place. “I just came out of Jimmy Choo, and who do I see across the street? My best friend having a drink with”—her voice flattens briefly—“
someone
in this cafe.” She ushers me back into the upholstered booth. When she lowers next to me, Justin’s knuckles turn white from gripping his bottle too hard. He shifts in his seat, probably pulling in his feet away so as not to accidentally touch her.

“You two came here together?” Her gaze narrows. “Does that mean—”

“He’s a counselor at camp, too,” I explain quickly, now regretting that I had Brinna keep it a secret from the other two for so long. “Actually, he’s in charge.”

“Really? How interesting.”

“Was a bit of a surprise when we ran into each other.” Helplessly, I grimace at Justin. “Wasn’t it?”

He only arches one probing eyebrow at me, lips shut and sealed.

“Looks like you’re having fun here,” Lesley squeaks on, having no trouble changing the subject. “A cosmo?”

“No, it’s not. This is cranberry juice,” I hear myself mumble as I stroke the long glass stem, my eyes fixed on Justin’s face. A muscle jumps back and forth in his jaw like a ticking time bomb. I swallow and wonder who of us is feeling more uncomfortable this minute.

“Oh.” Lesley touches my arm, making my head snap toward her. “Anyway, you should’ve told us it’s your day off. Kirsten and I would’ve picked you up and spent it with you.”

“She couldn’t.”

Justin’s harsh tone leaves a trail of goosebumps on my skin.

“Couldn’t spend it with us?” Lesley coos in this oh-so-arctic voice she always uses when she doesn’t really want to talk to somebody.

“Couldn’t
tell
you,” he replies, equally frosty. “All cells were handed in on the first day.” Any more of this, and I might have to go find myself a pair of gloves and a scarf. “Counselor phones, too.”

Lesley bursts out laughing. “You clearly underestimate Chloe if you think she wouldn’t find a way to talk to her best friends for an entire summer.”

“Lesley!” I hiss, nearly tipping over my drink.

Her tongue clicking does little to placate me. “Come on, he can’t be this ignorant.” Again, she turns her bittersweet glare on Justin. “Or don’t you remember the tricks we played as kids?”

He blows out an irritated breath through his nose. “Be sure that I do remember
all
of your dirty tricks, Caruthers.” His features are carved in stone. So are Lesley’s. They stare each other down, and I’m pretty sure if someone powdered the air between us right now, there would be laser beams crisscrossing the table. Man, how I wish I’d never come up with the stupid plan to buy the scripts today.

“Oh, pleeease…” Les waves him off with a demeaning snicker. “You can’t
still
be mad.” She bats her lashes in the most innocent way. “Most of the jokes
were
funny! Even you have to admit that.”

“Right. Because fifty spiders in your backpack is
hilarious
.”

I don’t see Justin laughing.

“
Ohmigosh
, it so was.” Lesley giggles and pokes me with her elbow. “Wasn’t it?”

I swallow. He used to read Spider-Man comics all the time, so for a Halloween prank, Lesley thought it would be funny to tip a jar of spiders into his school bag. I didn’t stop her, even though I was cringing inwardly. His horror-stricken face haunted me for the rest of tenth grade.

“Anyway.” She stops sniggering as fast as she started, ignoring Justin completely and focusing on me once more. “Since you’re already here, we should spend the day together. Let’s go shopping and get a manicure.” Grabbing my hand, she examines my fingernails with great disapproval. The pink polish of two days ago is already chipped in some places. Busy with organizing the drama lessons, I completely forgot to redo them. “Justin can go back without you,” she adds. “I’ll take you back this evening.”

Ever since I got locked up at camp, I’ve missed my friends so badly. But now that one of them is here, I wish she was miles away. Shopping, or even a manicure, isn’t what I want today. There’s another place calling to me more. Camp Clover. I shouldn’t be sitting here watching an old and a new friend fight, but instead working on a play with a bunch of boisterous youngsters. I don’t even know when it happened, but somehow they grew on me during those past few days.

My chest hurts with the need to tell Justin all of this. And Lesley, too. But as I open my mouth, Justin lifts his finger, signaling the waitress, and mouths, “The bill.”

I drag my brows into a deep frown. “What are you doing?”

“I’ve got a camp to run.” He doesn’t look at me when he says it but retrieves the money from his wallet for our lunch and special drinks. When the waitress appears at our table, he pays her and tips her generously. As soon as she’s gone, he grabs the plastic bag of scripts from the table and rises from his seat, making brief but sharp eye contact with me. “You have a ride back, so enjoy your
day off
. I’ll see you later.”

“But—”

He doesn’t give me a chance to explain anything. Without a goodbye to Lesley, he walks to the door, shoving his wallet back into his pocket as he exits the place.

“What the heck,
Lesley
?” I blurt out when we’re alone. “Was that really necessary?”

Her face is hard as stone. I knew all of her happy chitchat earlier was just for show. “You and Justin? How come?” she demands with bitter reproach.

“I told you, he’s in charge at camp. There’s little chance to avoid him there. Now move! I need to get to him before he leaves.”

Her mouth hanging open in protest, she reluctantly makes room as I push her out of the booth, dragging Justin’s leather jacket behind me. “You’re going back with him?
Now
?” she asks incredulously.

“I have to.”

Those narrowed blue eyes take on a darker shade. “He said you could stay.”

But I don’t want to. Feeling the sting of my own betrayal in my chest, I squat and pick up the shopping bags for her. “Listen, my chance to go to London is at stake here. I only have to last one more week, and he’s one of the people judging me. I can’t screw this up.”

“Yeah? It didn’t look like he was judging you a few minutes ago, before I came in. More like you’ve become best buddies. I thought you two hated each other?”

We sort of did, all through high school, and Lesley played a key role in it. But right now, I just don’t have time to discuss the past. Justin is heading toward his motorbike. In two minutes, he’ll be gone.

In nothing short of a panic, I grab my friend by her shoulders and look her straight in the eye. “Sorry, but I’m following him right now. We’ll have enough time to go shopping and get manicures after this week. Don’t take it personally. I just have to do this.” I hug her hard. “Take care and tell Kir I said hi.”

Clutching the bags to her chest with one arm, she stares at me with an open mouth. Ah, well. In a few minutes, she’ll get over it. I swish past her and hurry to the door. Once there, however, I pivot and lock gazes with Lesley one last time. Slipping into the leather jacket with the slightly too-long sleeves, I tell her in a gentle voice, “We’re not in high school anymore, Les. Things don’t always have to be black and white.” Then I draw in a deep breath and leave the cafe.

Down the street, Justin is mounting his bike. After a quick check left and right, I start to run and reach him just in time, as he slides the key into the ignition. Without a word, I climb onto the bike behind him and loop my arms around his middle.

“What the—” Startled, he jerks forward, shifting sideways so he can look at me.

“I can’t believe you would’ve left without me,” I scold him. His eyes grow as big as balloons. Only when I give him a tiny smile do they slowly warm over. “Can we go back now?” I ask in a small, placatory voice.

For another fathomless moment, he simply stares at me in wonder, but eventually he reaches for the handlebar, where the helmet still hangs. He holds it out to me, and the corners of his mouth twitch the tiniest bit.

A deep sigh of relief escapes me as I fasten the helmet under my chin, but Justin doesn’t hear it. When the dragon starts to roar underneath us, I wrap my arms around him, digging my fingers into the fabric of his shirt. Slowly, we roll off and merge into traffic.

By far, the ride back isn’t as exciting as the tour down to San Luis Obispo. In fact, it’s quiet and somewhat melancholic. All the way out of town and up the mountain, I hug him tight, thinking of the day Lesley dared me to tell a lie in order to prove my loyalty and my worthiness of becoming a member of her clique.

*

A golden sunset graces the top of the trees. Sitting on the banister of the porch, one heel propped up on the wood, I rub a pad soaked with nail-polish remover over my toes until all my nails are clean. I couldn’t decide which color to team with my black jeans and dark-gray top, so I brought the whole selection outside with me. Seven tiny bottles are aligned in front of me. Apricot is my favorite, but I’ve had it on for two days and don’t want to reuse it yet. So what instead?