Twice As Nice (9 page)

“I think it's that house over there,” I said to my dad as he drove a mile an hour down Sea Breeze Lane looking for Lily's house. “Lily said it looks like a log cabin only without the logs.”

“That makes zero sense,” Sammie piped up from the backseat. “A log cabin without logs is not a log cabin and therefore couldn't possibly look like one.”

“Fine, Sammie,” I said. “You win. I'm just repeating what Lily said.”

I didn't want to argue with her. We had just finished a tennis practice where we actually spoke to each other, and had even managed to give each other a few compliments like “nice shot” or “good serve.” It wasn't exactly kisses and hugs, but it was slightly better than the icy stares she had been giving me.

I had never been to Lily's house before. She doesn't usually invite people over after school, since both her parents work at home and we'd be in the way. Her dad is a record producer and her mom is a fashion designer. They spend a lot of time in the studio they built in the backyard.

“I don't see a house that looks like a log cabin, with or without logs,” my dad said. “All I see are ten-foot-high hedges.”

“The house is probably behind one of them,” I said. “You can just drop me off, Dad. I'll find it.”

“No way, Jose.”

He pulled the car to a stop in the middle of the road and started fiddling with his navigation system, trying to plug in Lily's address.

“Dad, I'm already late,” I groaned. “I don't have time for this.”

Although the newly formed Junior Waves club had agreed to meet at four o'clock precisely, my dad had insisted I come home after school to practice with Sammie for an hour. When I complained, he reminded me that I had agreed to put school and tennis first before Junior Waves. Then after tennis, we had to wait another ten minutes for Sammie to find her stupid Spanish book so that after he dropped me off, he could drop her off at Alicia's house to study. I knew Sara would be there, too, because Sammie asked if she could borrow some more of my headbands and my gray-and-white striped beanie.

Lily's house was not at all what we were expecting. We had been looking for something low and small and Abe Lincoln-like. But her house, which was behind tall hedges at the end of the cul-de-sac, was a huge two-story modern house that was nestled into the hillside and seemed to rise out of the trees. I guess you could say it was made of logs. Under its A-shaped roof were two stories of floor to ceiling windows, and a chimney made of giant smooth rocks. It was one of the most beautiful houses I'd ever seen.

“That's quite a log cabin,” my dad said, letting out an admiring whistle. “Maybe one day, if you girls win Wimbledon, you can buy yourselves a place like that.”

I could tell that looking at Lily's house made my dad sad. Our old house in Culver City was never grand like this one, but it did have four bedrooms, a big family room, and even a swimming pool in the backyard. When he lost his job and my mom left for school, we had to sell it and move to our cramped quarters at the club.

“You got it, Dad,” Sammie said, giving him a pat on the shoulder. “In fact, we'll buy two of them.”

“Yeah, one for us and one for you and Mom,” I agreed.

“What about Ryan?”

“Nope. He has to live in another city until he becomes way less annoying,” Sammie said with a chuckle.

“Maybe even another continent,” I added. Then we both burst out laughing.

“That's better,” my dad said. “That's the way I like to see my girls.”

I climbed out of the car and Sammie crawled over into the front seat.

“I'll be back here at six thirty,” my dad hollered out the window. “And Charlie, don't call and ask if you can stay later, because the answer will be no. You've got homework to do.”

As they drove away, I walked up the driveway and rang the doorbell. The front door was made of copper, with trees and leaves and birds etched on the front. The bell was also encased in copper, as if it was the center of a blooming copper rose. I was looking at the door so intently that I jumped when it opened and a person I'd never seen before was standing there. She was a young African American woman, maybe twenty years old, wearing a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt that said Stanford University.

“Uh, is this Lily March's house?” I asked.

“Yes. I'm Neela, her sister.”

“Oh. I didn't know she had a sister.” That sounded rude, so I quickly added, “No offense or anything, I'm sure she told me and I just forgot.”

Neela laughed.

“I'm her half-sister. Same dad, different mom. Most of the time, I'm away at college so she probably doesn't talk about me a lot.”

“I'm kind of new to the group,” I told her. “So I'm just getting to know everyone's family.”

“You must be Charlie,” she said. “The girls told me a little about you.”

“I hope it was all good.”

Okay, I admit it. I was kind of searching for a compliment, hoping she'd say something like,
“They all just love you and they can't stop talking about how cool you are.”
But she didn't say that. In fact, she didn't say anything, just stepped back and opened the door for me.

“Come on in. Lily and the others are out back in our parent's studio. I'll show you where it is.”

The inside of the house was even more beautiful than the outside. There wasn't what you'd call a regular living room or family room or dining room or anything. It was just one great big room, with giant pillowy furniture all around. The stark white walls were hung with brightly colored woven rugs. There was a huge stone fireplace in the center of the room and a curving stone staircase that led up to the second-floor loft at the back. All along the stairway hung painted masks of varying shapes and sizes. A few had horns and looked like animals, and others looked like human faces. Some were friendly looking; others were freakishly scary.

“Who are those guys?” I asked Neela as we passed by.

“Those are tribal masks,” she said. “I brought them back from Africa for my dad.”

“Do you live there?”

“No, but I did a year of college there. I'm majoring in cultural anthropology, which is a fancy way to say I'm studying groups of people.”

“You have to go to Africa for that? Can't you just do it in the mall?”

Neela laughed.

“I study people from different cultures and ways of life. The tribes who made these masks use them in their rituals and ceremonies, which is very foreign to us.”

“We learned about Native American rituals in social studies,” I said. “They did some pretty cool stuff, like dances to make it rain and protect them from evil spirits. They were very spiritual.”

Neela stopped and turned to me. “I like you, Charlie. You're smart,” she said. “Different from the other girls.”

“Lily's smart, too.”

“Yes, she is. And if I can count correctly, that makes two of you.”

I followed Neela through the stainless steel kitchen and out into the backyard. We crossed a stone bridge that led to another wooden building. It was like a mini version of the house. When Neela opened the door and led me inside, I was so blown away my jaw actually dropped. All along the wall were framed Gold Records, the kind that you win for selling a million albums. There must have been twenty-five or thirty of them.

“Our dad's had a pretty nice run of luck,” she smiled.

The girls were sitting in a circle on the floor. Lily's hat supplies were laid out in front of them. It looked like Lily had finished another five or six, including a cowboy hat with peacock and eagle feathers and a red velvet turban with fake gold coins draped across the front.

“Finally, you're here,” Lauren said to me. “We've been waiting for you for half an hour.”

“Sorry I'm late. I had to finish tennis practice before my dad would let me come over.”

“No worries,” Lily said. “It gave me time to finish these hats while we were waiting.”

“I get to decide if it's fine or not,” Lauren stood up and took control of the conversation. “While we were waiting for you, we officially elected me president.”

“You have my vote, too,” I said. “Or at least, you would've if I had been here.”

“That's what I thought,” Lauren said. “So I voted in your place and we called it unanimous.”

“Democracy in action.” Neela chuckled.

Neela went over to a desk near the window, sat down, and turned on the computer.

“Uh, Neela. No offense, but this is a private meeting,” Lauren said. “So . . . could you do that somewhere else?”

“No offense back at you,” Neela said, “but when I'm home, I sleep in the studio, so technically you guys are in my space.”

Lauren glanced at Lily, but Lily just shrugged. “Neela's cool,” she said. “Let's just go on with our meeting.”

“Okay.” Lauren sighed. “I guess we have no choice. Let's begin with the plans for the T-shirts.”

“My mom already did a preliminary design,” Lily said. “I waited to show everyone until Charlie got here.”

“Which I said was fine,” Lauren added. “So we're ready to look at it now. But before we do, we all have to take a pledge of secrecy. No one but us can know what the T-shirts look like until we arrive at the game on Friday. Raise your right hand and repeat after me.”

We did as we were told. This was fun. Everyone loves a secret pact. And Jillian said it was just like the pledge contestants make on
Teen Survivor
.

“As a member of the Junior Waves,” we repeated after Lauren, “I do solemnly swear not to reveal to anyone what we are about to see.”

After the oath, Lily went to her mom's drafting table and returned with a large sheet of drawing paper that was covered with a sheet of taped-on tracing paper. She sat down, but just before she flipped the tracing paper up, Lauren stopped her.

“Wait,” she said. “Don't show the design yet. There's someone here who has not taken the oath.” She glanced over at Neela, who was typing something on the computer.

Neela looked up.

“Are you talking to me?”

Lauren nodded. Neela just laughed.

“I'm afraid I'm going to have to insist that you take our sacred oath,” Lauren said.

Neela laughed again.

“Listen, girlfriend, I've studied tribal oaths on three continents,” she said. “And I have never seen one that involves a T-shirt. So if you girls want to do it, fine, but don't involve me.”

Without waiting for Lauren's approval, Lily just went ahead and lifted the tracing paper to reveal the design. It was set against a turquoise background, just like the Waves shirts and bags were. But the design itself was totally different, done in a fluorescent orange. Taking up the whole front of the shirt was a drawing of a beautiful, Chinese-looking folding fan, half-moon shaped. Flowing across its folds was a long foamy wave that was about to break. Under the drawing, orange letters said, “The Junior Waves—We're Fans!”

It was perfect. Beautiful, different, clever, and so cool. I could hardly stop myself from popping to my feet and jumping up and down like a two year old.

“I don't get it,” Jillian said, staring at the design. “What does a fan have to do with waves?”

“Don't you see, Jilly?” I said. “
Fan
and
fan
.”

Jillian looked even more confused.

“Let
me
explain,” Lauren said. “It's part of my job as president.”

Turning to Jillian, Lauren got all serious like the real president does when he's about to give a speech. “The fan on our T-shirt has two meanings,” she explained. “When you first look at it, it seems like it's just a fan. But when you think about it, it says something else, too—that the Junior Waves are
fans
. Like we're
fans
of the sports teams.
Fan
and
fan
.”

“Ooohhh,” Jillian said. “Now I get it.”

“Just so everyone knows, as your president, I'm always here to explain things.” Lauren seemed very pleased with herself.

“So now that we're all clear on the concept, what do we think?” Lily asked. “Do we like it?”

“It's perfect,” I said. “Your mom's a genius. And I, for one, will be proud to wear it to the game Friday night.”

“Oh, I'm so glad you love it, Charlie,” Lily said. “I think it will look great with jeans.”

“I was just about to say that,” Lauren said. “My idea is that we need to all go out and buy orange shoes to match the orange on the shirt.”

That made me worried. I'm not rich like everyone else, and I sure couldn't just go out and buy shoes whenever I wanted. But then I remembered that I had a pair of never-worn, bright-orange Nike running shoes that Sammie and I were given after we won a Nike Invitational Tournament. They'd look really cute with the shirt.