The Secret Life of a Teenage Siren (15 page)

I pull up to the address Mrs. Parker gave me, and, sure enough, his muddy pickup's parked on the steep circular driveway, along with Eva's Mustang. I yank the parking break so the Boxster won't roll down the hill, then grab my purse and hop out.

The house is a white colonial-style with a gigantic weeping willow in the middle of the yard and a rainbow of geraniums lining the brick walkway. I clank the brass knocker on the dark green door until it opens, revealing Eva in her FHS short shorts and a bikini top.

“Oh hey, Roxy. What're you doing here?” she asks, fiddling with her necklace—a silver chain with a heart locket. Did Zach give it to her back when they were an item?

“I'm here to see Zach.” I step inside before she has the chance to invite me in. You know, just in case she
doesn't
invite me in.

Eva peers over my shoulder. “Nice car. It's not yours, is it?”

I shrug. “It's my dad's, but he lets me take it whenever I want, so it's pretty much mine.”

“Wow, that's cool.”

The Nelsons' house is all velvet and mahogany and wallpaper, smelling of Old
English and old money. According to Natalie, Eva's great-grandparents started the Snowflake Ski shops. And once Eva turns eighteen, she's going to be Denver's newest millionaire. Rough.

Eva leads me down the hall, her bare feet slapping on the rose-colored tile. “Zach's out back. Want anything to drink? A wine cooler, perhaps?”

A lump the size of Jupiter forms in my throat. “Uh, I've been meaning to apologize for, um … spilling my wine cooler on your dress. I hope it didn't stain.” Did I really think slinging my drink all over Eva would make me feel victorious? What had gotten into me that night at J.T.'s party?

Eva waves her hand dismissively. “Bygones.” Then the weirdest thing happens. She actually smiles at me. “I'm really glad you stopped by, Roxy. Before we go outside, can I ask you something?” She takes my hand and leads me to a burgundy love seat in the living room. There's an enormous oil painting of her family on the wall: The distinguished Mr. Nelson, his lovely and well-preserved surgeon wife, and a twelve-year-old Eva Nelson in a dark green sheath and pearls.

“Uh, sure, I guess….” I perch next to her.

“How does it feel?” She's looking at me intensely, like she's waiting for me to reveal the secret of life.

“How does
what
feel?” Is she asking about Zach? Oh, God, I'll die if she asks if Zach and I have had sex.

“To be a model.” Eva leans forward, flinging her long blond ponytail behind her shoulder.

My face heats up. “Oh.” I set my tote down at my feet. “It's fun, I guess—”

“You were so great at that Jaded fashion show. I was just standing there watching it and I was all, ‘I know that girl!'” A huge smile emerges on her face and she clamps her hand on top of mine. “So tell me
every
thing! Don't you dare leave out a single, teensy-tiny detail.”

This is all so weird. I mean, Eva's hanging on to my every word. I don't think we've ever even made eye contact before, let alone had a tête-â-tête.

Eva smacks her lips, a dreamy look in her blue eyes. When I wrap up the story of How Roxy Became a Model (leaving out the Siren bits, naturally), she says, “Awesome.”

I nod.

“Well,” she says, standing up, “I'm sure you're eager to see Zach. I just wanted to live vicariously for a minute.”

Huh? Did Eva the Diva just admit to being intrigued by
my
life? And what's more, did she just use a five-syllable word? I'm still pondering these oddities when we go out the sliding-glass doors and find Zach, J.T., Devin, and Amber hanging out around an oval-shaped swimming pool. The yard is full of trees, bushes, flowers—oh, wow, and a barbeque setup that would bring a grown man to tears.

Devin does a majorly splashy cannonball and drenches Amber, who's sprawled out on a lounge chair, sipping lemonade. She screams, but by the look in her eyes, she doesn't seem that upset. By the size of her bikini top, she doesn't seem that modest, either. (If anyone ever wants me to model a bathing suit like
that,
I'm so saying no. Even though my boobs are pretty damn amazing, if I do say so myself.)

J.T. spots me first. “Yo, Zachster. Look who's here.”

Zach swims to the ladder and climbs out of the pool, water dripping down his tan, muscular body. He looks like a hunk right
out of those cheesy calendars, except he's wearing knee-length board shorts instead of a banana hammock (which are totally disgusting, if you ask me).

Eva tosses Zach a pineapple-patterned beach towel and he dries his eyes and hair. “Hiya, Roxy. What's up?” He gives me a sexy smile and I can't help but wonder if he's going to be smiling after I do what I have to do.

Everybody's watching and listening to us. “Uh, I just wanted to talk. Can we go inside or something?”

He shakes his head like a wet dog. “Sure.”

I take him to the love seat where Eva and I were sitting earlier. “Uh, Zach? Maybe you should sit on the towel. You know, so you don't ruin the upholstery? I think it might be an antique.” Not that I'd know, but it sure doesn't look like something you can just pick up at American Furniture Warehouse. And I want him sitting down because I'm not sure how he's going to react to what I have to tell him.

“So, what's up?” he asks again, spreading the towel between his wet trunks and the love seat.

“Do you ever get the urge to hang out with
me?” I ask, staring at the fancy chandelier-like light above our heads.

“Sure.” He puts his hand on top of mine.

“But everything that happens between us is 'cause I arrange it or ask for it or suggest it.” He looks at me as if I'm speaking Chinese. “I suggest we get something to eat, and we do. I ask you to kiss me, and you do.”

He kisses me, and suddenly I feel nauseous. The kiss itself is fine. It's the exact same kind he's been giving me since the day I used my Siren powers on him and told him to kiss me like Enrique Iglesias. Is it all he's capable of? Like he's a robot and can only do what I've programmed him to do? Can't he be spontaneous? You know, mix it up a little?

“Do you love me?” I bite my lip, wishing I hadn't just asked him that. Talk about awkward. And not that I'm experienced with this, but I'd guess it's not the best question to ask a guy right before you break up with him.

“Of course I love you, Roxy.” He smiles lazily and runs his fingers through my hair.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you love me?”

He's still smiling and stroking my hair,
but he looks kinda funny. Like he's reading a Post-it that's stuck to my forehead. “Because you're the most beautiful girl in the whole world.”

Okay, fine. I'm not surprised he said that. But I guess I was hoping he would say something else, you know, besides me being pretty.

He's awfully cute, and he's so athletic and popular. What girl wouldn't want to be with Zach Parker?

This girl.

But I
am
fond of the guy. I've been crushing on him forever, and I do want what's best for him. This breaking up thing is totally hard. How can I let him down easy? How can I release him from his Date the Siren duties in a way that leaves his dignity intact? Maybe I can fix him up with someone else—someone who'll make him happy.

I glance up at the painting of the Nelsons and a crazy idea bounces into my skull. What if Zach fell in love with Eva? I mean, they make such a terrific couple. The whole plan is so poetic!

I dig out my flute and start playing, Zach's eyes softening into light blue satin.
“Zach, I want you to get back together with Eva.”

Wait a sec.

Will the whole act get old for Eva, like it has for me? I don't want her to be stuck with a Robot Dream Guy for the rest of her life. I don't want my gift of Zach Parker to become a nuisance or a curse.

Eva needs an out. You know, just in case she's not deliriously happy about a total hottie devoting himself to her. It's the least I can do. “If Eva ever tells you she wants to break it off, be a good sport and follow her wishes.”

“Roxy?”

“Mmm?”

“I've gotta go. I've gotta talk to Eva.”

“Wait a sec. One more thing. Take your truck to the Auto Spa first thing in the morning for the full-service car wash, and take it back at least twice every week. Okay, that should be it for now. See ya later.” Ha! I just played matchmaker for the Proud Crowd King and Queen. Never in a million years would I have expected myself to do something like this. As I'm putting my flute away, I see something glittery in the bottom of my purse. Eva's rhinestone hair
clip. I place it on the coffee table, right next to the exotic silk flower arrangement.

After Zach flees out of the house, I snatch the beach towel he left behind and hop up on my feet. Through the sliding-glass doors, I see him march right up to Eva and take her in his arms. It's a total Hollywood moment. A tear slides down my cheek, and I use the towel to wipe it away.

As bizarre as it sounds, I think I'm crying from happiness. Zach and I were never meant to be, and I feel so much lighter now that he and Eva are back together. After folding the towel, I slide the door open just a little and set it outside. Before I close the door again, I hear J.T. say, “Dude, so if you aren't with Roxy anymore, is it cool if I go for her?” and I laugh out loud. Then I gather my things and head for the front door.

Eva comes running after me. “Hey, Roxy! You're not leaving, are you?”

“Yeah, I think I'm going to go check on my friend. She just got a new job at Jaded that she's superexcited about.”

“Shut up! You know someone who works at Jaded?”

I nod. “Natalie O'Brien.”

“That band geek girl you used to hang with?” Eva's dark blue eyes squint disbelievingly.

“Actually, we're hanging out again. And she
is
in band, but she's actually really cool. They'd never hire Natalie to work at Jaded if she were a geek. She's always one step ahead of the latest fashion craze. It's pretty amazing, actually.”

Eva is quiet for a beat or two. “Maybe she can help me find a first-day-of-school outfit,” she says softly.

I smile. “I'm sure she'd be happy to.”

“So what's up with you and Zach?” she asks, refilling the pitcher with lemonade.

I take a few steps backward and lean against the breakfast bar, hoping to look casual. “We're not together anymore.”

Eva crinkles her little nose like a rabbit. Finally, she snorts. “He said you broke up with him!”

“Oh, this is
rich,”
Amber says as she sidles up to Eva. “I don't think
anyone'
s ever broken up with Zach Parker.”

“I
broke up with him,” Eva says indignantly. “Remember when he had the nerve to pick me up for prom in his nasty pickup?”

Amber says, “That doesn't count, Eva.”
Then she whispers, “You guys
did it
that very night.”

“I didn't break up with him,” I pipe up. “He told me he has a thing for another girl, so he dumped me. He was totally cool about it, though, no hard feelings or anything.”

Eva whispers, “He wants to get back together with me.”

I pretend to be pleasantly surprised. “Oh! That explains a lot, then. Well, congrats, Eva.”

“You're not pissed?”

“Not at all. You make a great couple. I'm sure you two will be very happy together.”

“Are you for real?” Eva asks.

“I hope so,” I say to myself as she runs back to her man.

“No parties, young lady.” Mom stops digging in her closet and looks at me, making eye contact. “I left a message with Mother, letting her know you're going to be home alone….”

Their huge black suitcase is open on their bed, a bunch of touristy clothes spilling over. “Need any help getting this baby shut?” I ask, thinking it a bit odd that Mom is having Grandma Perkins check in on me instead of Patricia, Alex's mom.

“It's under control, I think,” Mom says, parading around in the teddy-bear night-shirt she got at Yellowstone last year. “We've got a system.”

“You're not still putting that pair of
rainbow-striped suspenders around it, are you?”

Dad tosses another pair of black socks in the pile and then shakes his head. “The security folks gave us a hard time last time, so I'm afraid we'll just have to make do without the suspenders.”

Mom ties a big pink bow on the suitcase handle and steps back to inspect her work. “That'll do. Don't want someone else to take our suitcase by mistake.” I pity the people who get their suitcase mixed up with my parents'. They'd have to wear Dad's baggy shorts and black socks and Mom's painfully white tennis shoes.

My parents are spending their twentieth wedding anniversary at Disneyland, where they had their honeymoon. Personally, I think it's kind of weird for them to go to Disney and leave their kids at home. But I'm actually pretty psyched to be left behind. It'll give me time to hang out with friends. Plus, I have that photo shoot coming up on Tuesday.

After passing my Dad the SPF 50 sunscreen, I retire to my bedroom and dial Natalie's number.

“Hey, Rox. Listen, I got your message
but I didn't get a chance to call you back till my shift was over.”

“So, how was it?” I ask.

“Awesome! Well, it was totally exhausting, but it was so cool putting together killer outfits for people. I swear, one lady was almost moved to tears when I found the perfect dress for her ten-year high school reunion. It's great to feel so
needed,
you know?”

She rambles on for what seems like a week and finally stops to catch her breath. “Anyway, I'll shut up now, but I just can't tell you how much I appreciate you getting me this job. I'm still not sure how you did it, but I'm totally grateful.”