Trouble from the Start (13 page)

“I've got it,” Fletcher said.

“What? No, I pay my own way. This isn't a date.”

“I've got it, Katniss.”

“This isn't
The Hunger Games
.”

“Could be. I'm starving, so let me pay.” Without another word, he followed Jeremy to the counter.

I dropped back into the booth and scooted over to the wall.

“Why'd he call you Katniss?” Kendall asked.

“For some reason he's into using nicknames. Although I kinda like that one. She's tough.”

“He's a little scary.”

I scowled at her. “No, he's not.”

“He seems tough, but then I guess that goes with his reputation.”

“Ignore his reputation.”

“A little hard to do when that's all I really know about him. He's nothing at all like Jeremy.”

Looking at the guys standing at the counter, I had to admit they seemed an odd pair. Jeremy's white polo shirt was tucked into his pressed shorts. Fletcher's black T-shirt had apparently shrunk when he'd washed it because it outlined every muscle. It was untucked and his jeans were snug. His dark hair was long and wild, while every strand of Jeremy's blond hair was in place.

Jeremy said something. Fletcher grinned. He had such a great grin. He was saying something, and Jeremy laughed.

“They seem to get along,” I said.

“Jeremy gets along with everyone. My mom says he's going to go far.”

I wondered if Fletcher would ever leave the area. What were his plans once he got that haircut?

The guys returned to the table with two trays laden with food. They passed around the burgers and drinks, set two large baskets of fries in the center. Community property. The booth suddenly shrank when Fletcher dropped down beside me. I refused to hug the wall, which meant that my leg was hugging his. It didn't appear he noticed that he was encroaching on my personal space.

Jeremy lifted his glass. “A toast to our gradua—”

Grimacing, I caught his eye, shook my head before he could continue on with some speech to commemorate our freedom.

He stared at me, shifted his gaze to Fletcher, turned beet red. “Sorry, man.”

Fletcher picked up his glass. “To your graduation.” He tapped his glass to Jeremy's, to Kendall's—she looked like she wished she were somewhere else—and finally to mine. He winked. “And to less bumpy roads.”

My chest knotted painfully with his acknowledgment of our success. I knew how hard it had to be for him. I blinked to hold the tears at bay. “A lot less bumpy.”

We all clinked glasses again, drank deeply. I realized there was a lot about Fletcher I'd underestimated.

“So,” Jeremy said, “what are you doing over the summer, Fletcher?”

“Working at Smiley's. You?”

“Dad's law office.”

“Sweet,” Fletcher said.

“Not really. Mostly I'll be filing. Law is not exciting.”

“I thought your dad was going to take you to court,” Kendall said.

Jeremy grinned. “It's not like on TV. There is never a big aha moment when everyone realizes the wrong person is on trial.”

“Jeremy's going to be a lawyer,” Kendall said, beaming.

“Maybe,” he said. “It's a long way off.”

“You'll do it,” she said. “I'm hoping to be a vet. I love dogs.”

“Don't get her started on dogs,” I warned Fletcher. “She does volunteer work for a second-chance shelter. She'll try to talk you into adopting one if you're not careful.”

“What's a second-chance shelter?” he asked.

“They rescue dogs from kill facilities,” Kendall said. “So they get a second chance.”

“I like that,” he said.

She blushed slightly, seemed a little confused, and I realized that he was turning out not to be exactly as she'd expected either.

We finished off our burgers while talking about the summer blockbusters that we couldn't wait to hit the theaters. Well, mostly Jeremy, Kendall, and I talked. Fletcher watched as though we were aliens that had just landed, and he couldn't quite determine what to make of us. Although I had to admit that I was observing him as well. He liked lots of salt on his fries but no ketchup. His burger was bun, meat, and cheese. I knew that because nothing else was visible.

When he finished his drink, he got up to get a refill.

“Anyone else?” Jeremy asked, grabbing his glass. Kendall nudged hers over.

Although I was almost out, I just shook my head.

As he walked off, Kendall leaned forward and whispered, “He's a lot different than I thought.”

“Jeremy?”

She scowled. “Fletcher. Although it would have been nice if he'd offered to refill your glass.”

“Why? I'm perfectly capable of refilling it myself.”

“Jeremy always gets my refills.”

“He's your boyfriend. Besides, Fletcher isn't Jeremy.” She was going into control mode and I wasn't in the mood for it.

“Everything okay?” Fletcher asked when he got back.

“Avery needs some more tea,” Kendall said pointedly.

“Okay.” Her tone must have gone completely over his head, because he just waited, standing by the table. Waited for me to get out.

“I'm fine,” I told him. “This late at night, it'll just keep me up.”

He slid in beside me. “You can have some of mine.”

“You can't share when it's free refills,” Kendall said.

“What difference does it make?” Fletcher asked. “We paid for two drinks. There's no charge for refills.”

“But . . .” She seemed stunned by the logic.

Which for some reason I found hilarious. I snatched up Fletcher's cup and took a couple of sips before handing it back.

With a grin, he finished off what was left.

Jeremy returned to the table. A group of boisterous graduates burst through the doors. Some were still wearing their tasseled caps.

“On that note, I think it's time to go,” Jeremy said.

We all scrambled out of the booth. Lightly taking my arm, Kendall held me back. “We're not going home yet,” she whispered. “Can you get a ride with Fletcher?”

“Thought you were worried about his skull.”

“Come on, Avery. Graduation night. I don't have to be home until dawn.”

“Sure, let me ask Fletcher.”

His reply was simply to hand me his helmet. A guy of few words was Fletcher. I realized as I slid my arms around him that it didn't really bother me. I knew that Kendall and Jeremy spent a lot of time talking. They had so much in common. They enjoyed the same music, video games, television shows, movies. They debated characters, and the best superheroes, and their favorite pizza. I couldn't imagine Fletcher caring about any of those things.

We pulled into the driveway and he cut the engine. Sometimes silence was louder than the roar of an engine. Reluctantly, I swung my leg back and climbed off. I handed Fletcher his helmet and shifted from one foot to the other. “Thanks for the ride home.”

“Any time.”

“No bets tonight?” I asked.

“No bets.”

“See you.” Turning, I headed for the front door.

“Hey, college-bound?”

Stopping, I faced him. The outside garage lights washed over him, sitting astride his bike, making him look at once dangerous and welcoming. Why did I always have such conflicting thoughts where he was concerned? “Yeah?”

“Do you always kick guys in the nuts when they try to kiss you?”

Studying him, I angled my head thoughtfully. “Maybe you should try it sometime and find out.”

I didn't know what had prompted me to say that. It also seemed that he grew incredibly still straddling that bike. Because I didn't want to offer him the chance to reject me, to laugh, to say
not in a hundred years
, I spun on my heel and strode into the house.

With my back to the door, I took a deep breath and wished I'd had the courage to stay and find out if he wanted to kiss me as much as I wanted to kiss him.

Sunday was a little more relaxed than the one before. Dad was preparing for his usual grilling. I helped Mom bake a carrot cake, my ode to vegetables. The blinds in the kitchen were pulled up, and I had a view of Tyler splashing around in the pool. Although he knew how to swim, he still wore little inflatable floaties around his arms.

Fletcher sat on the edge of the pool. All I could see was his bare back, the ridges of his spine. But I could imagine the individual droplets of water glistening and gliding along his skin. Tyler was taunting him, splashing water at him. Fletcher ignored him.

Then suddenly Fletcher launched himself into the pool. Tyler shrieked as Fletcher grabbed him and held him up. Fletcher's maniacal laugh echoed across the yard.

“You should join them,” Mom said.

“What?” And I realized I'd been standing in front of the window like a statue.

“Join them,” she repeated as she spread the last of the buttercream icing on the cake, something I was supposed to have helped her finish.

“Are you sure? I was supposed to help you.”

“Go have some fun,” Mom insisted. “There's not much left to do here.”

She didn't have to tell me again. I headed outside. As I neared the pool, I kicked off my sparkly flip-flops, then sat on the edge, letting my feet dangle in the warm water. Tyler circled around Fletcher where he stood.

“Look, Avery!” Tyler called out. “I'm a shark.”

“I think you should be a dolphin,” I told him. “Wouldn't want you to hurt Fletcher.”

Fletcher looked at me, but I couldn't tell what he was thinking because he was wearing his sunglasses. As he glided toward me, Tyler kept pace.

“So what's the movie for tonight?” Fletcher asked.

“I don't know, but I won't be here.”

“Big date?”

If I didn't know better, I'd think he sounded jealous. “Work. During the summer, on the weekends, I waitress at the Shrimp Hut.”

“I've never eaten there.”

“Stop by sometime. Family eats for free.”

It was like he had X-ray vision through those sunglasses. I could feel the intensity of his stare. “I'm not family.”

So I'd somehow offended him. I shrugged. “You're living here. You're family. Or if you're too proud, you can pay the twenty bucks for a dozen shrimp.”

“Seriously? Twenty bucks for shrimp?”

“You should see the price on the steak.”

“People pay that?”

“Yep. Jeremy took Kendall there before prom. It was romantic. But put a big dent in his allowance.”

“Where did you go before prom?”

“To the bookstore.”

Above his glasses, his brow furrowed. He didn't get the joke.

“I spent the night in a dystopian world,” I said. “Reading a book,” I added, because I wasn't sure if he got it. “Did you go to prom?”

“Can you see me in a tux?”

Actually I could. I thought he would look pretty hot in a tux, but I decided to keep that to myself. “I figured you'd go as a rebel, in a leather jacket and jeans.”

“Figured wrong. Couldn't see the point in it. But I can't believe you didn't go.”

“When you're a
brainiac
,” I said, deliberately using the thoughtless name he'd once applied to me, “sometimes you intimidate guys. Add that your dad is a cop with an
arsenal of guns at his disposal, and you're pretty much undatable.”

“You've never had a date?”

He sounded endearingly baffled, which made me feel good—that he thought I should be dateable. “No, but that's okay. Gives me something to look forward to when I go to college.” I kicked water in his face.

“Hey!”

“You don't strike me as a pool guy.”

“The kid kept bugging me.”

“I did!” Tyler yelled, splashing water at me. “Come in, Avery.”

“Nah. Lunch will be ready soon.”

Fletcher leaned down and whispered something to Tyler, who grinned like a fiend and bobbed his head. I could pretty much guess what they were plotting.

“Don't you guys even think it,” I warned.

Fletcher propelled Tyler toward me. They both grabbed a leg before I could get away. Tyler hung on like grim death. I tried to kick Fletcher.

He pulled. I toppled over into the water, arms and legs flailing. I came up sputtering, dragging my hair out of my eyes. Tyler was howling with laughter. Fletcher was grinning like a loon, and again something inside me tightened and turned. I thought I might take a hundred dunkings for that smile.

“Jerks!” I yelled.

Lunging to the side, I snatched Tyler up into the air. His shriek nearly burst my eardrum. I looked over my shoulder. Fletcher hauled himself out of the pool in one smooth movement, his muscles rippling while the water sloshed off him. He sat on a lounge chair and pulled a black T-shirt down over his head.

“We won!” Tyler shouted. “We beat you, Avery!”

“Yeah, you won,” I admitted, even though I wasn't sure what they'd won. I released Tyler. He plopped back into the water, puttered around. I glided to the edge of the pool and folded my arms over the tile. “You can't get out of the pool after you drag someone else in,” I told Fletcher.

“You can if you won and the battle is over.”

He looked relaxed. I wished I had been responsible for his ease, but I suspected it was mostly Tyler's doing. The kid had a way of making even the grumpiest people turn into sunny-side-up optimists.

Dad called us to the table. I helped Tyler out of the pool, scrubbed a towel over him, and drew a T-shirt over his head. Holding my hand, he walked with me toward the patio.

“I like him,” he said in a whisper loud enough that the entire neighborhood probably heard.

Fletcher was a few steps ahead of us. He slowed his gait.

“He likes you, too,” I told Tyler, just before we caught up with Fletcher.

Fletcher swung him up onto his shoulders. Tyler laughed. And all I could think was,
I like him, too.

The Shrimp Hut was a rustic building that would have been near the boardwalk if the beach had had one. Instead it was just shy of the public area where people sunbathed and rushed into the surf. On the nonbeach side it had a small parking lot, but employees were encouraged to park in the public parking area so the restaurant guests weren't inconvenienced.

I usually arrived at work with shoes filled with sand. I'd learned to wear flip-flops and change into running shoes after I arrived. I hadn't been here since last summer when I worked, but walking into the place was a little like coming home. Fishing nets hung along the walls. Attached to them was an assortment of starfish, crab shells, beach paraphernalia.

“Hey, Avery.” Dot greeted me. She was the owner and manager, and not the most creative person in the world considering the moniker she'd given her pride and joy. As far as I knew she'd never married. I didn't think she was much older than my mom but her love of the sun had taken a toll on her. Her skin was darkly tanned and leathery, but she had a smile that lit up the room.

“Hey, Dot. How's business?”

“Getting there. Now that school is out it'll really kick into gear. Speaking of school being out, congratulations on your graduation.”

“Thanks,” I said, beaming. “Hard to believe.”

“It'll get easier. I have a little something for you.” She reached beneath the hostess counter and retrieved a small box with a purple bow.

“You didn't have to do that.”

“I remember how exciting it was to graduate. Go on. Open it.”

Inside was a pewter necklace with a small starfish-shaped medallion at its center. “It's great, thanks!”

“So you don't forget me,” she said.

“I could never forget you.” Reaching over, I gave her a big hug. “Truly, thank you.”

She blushed. “Now go on. I'm not paying you to lollygag about. You know the routine.”

She didn't pay until I was on the clock so this lollygagging was coming out of my pocket, not hers—not that I bothered to point that out. I loved working for her.

“Yes, ma'am,” I replied smartly, and went back to the office. I changed my shoes, put my backpack in a locker, and grabbed a white apron. In spite of the prices on the menu, the restaurant was pretty laid-back. Waitstaff wore black shorts and white T-shirts with the restaurant's
emblem on them. I pulled my hair back into a ponytail. Then I snatched an order pad from a stack near the door and went to work.

What I loved most about working here were all the different people I met. A lot were from out of town, out of state, out of the country. I also liked the people I worked with. Some were older and they worked here all year long, but many of them were students just catching a job for the summer.

What I hated most about working here were all the different people. The majority were nice but every now and then I waited on someone who was a little difficult: he didn't like the food or the service or the sand. That last type always got to me because they were at the beach. What did they expect?

But I learned to deal with it. If nothing else, it gave me experience at diffusing tense situations. I only had a six-hour shift on Sunday, but my feet were killing me as I trudged to my car after eleven. The sun had gone down two hours earlier. There were no streetlights around here, but I had the flashlight app on my cell phone.

And I wasn't alone. Marc, Jenny, and Katie were also heading to their cars. I'd met them last year when they were seniors in high school. They'd all gone away to college for a year and were now home for the summer.

“The worst part about coming home,” Jenny said, “is
that suddenly my dad wants to know where I am every minute of every day. I have to tell him what time I'll be home and he blows up if I'm late. I've spent months with him not knowing where I was or how late I was out.” It looked like where she had been was mostly at a tattoo and piercing salon. She had what looked like a constellation inked on her neck. She had nose and lip piercings. The blond hair from last summer was now pitch-black.

“Same here,” Katie said, ruffling her fingers through her auburn curls. “My dad practically has me on a leash.”

“Must be a girl thing,” Marc said. He and I were the same height, but his shoulders rounded like he was always carrying a heavy load. “No one's on my case.”

I imagined that it would be difficult to go from almost complete freedom to having to answer to someone again. I wondered if I would experience that when I came home from college. My parents kept such a close watch over me now with curfews, wanting to know where I was going, when I'd be home. All that would change when I went to college. I wondered how I could prevent it from reverting back when I came home for the summer.

“Course it's not as bad as my boyfriend being in Colorado,” Katie said with a longing sigh that seemed to drift out over the dunes.

“How did you meet him?” I asked. She'd been boyfriendless last summer. We'd commiserated together.
Obviously we wouldn't be doing that this summer.

“Dorm cafeteria. His uncle's a professor at Tech so that's where he wanted to go. His name's Drew and he's a dream.”

“So he doesn't exist?” Marc asked. “Just in your dreams?”

“Funny, Marc,” she said. “He exists, and I'm crazy about him.”

“He's a long way off,” he said. I'd always thought that he kinda liked Katie. “Lot can happen over the summer.”

“Nothing's going to happen,” she assured him. “Just like nothing happened last summer, if you'll recall.”

Ouch!
I thought. She'd known he liked her. Maybe she liked him, too, but she had obviously moved on and wanted to shut him down.

“So what about you, Avery?” she asked. “Hooked up with anyone yet?”

“Nope. Saving myself for college.” I said it like I'd had a choice.

We reached our cars.

“See you guys tomorrow,” I said as I unlocked the door and slid inside. I inserted the key in the ignition, turned it. Trooper puttered and died. “No, no, no.”

I tried again. Same thing. I banged my head on the steering wheel. Then nearly leaped out of my skin when there was a knock on the window. I rolled it down.

“You got a problem?” Marc asked.

“Yeah, it won't start.”

“I could be all macho and tell you to open the hood, except I wouldn't know what I was looking at, and that could prove kind of embarrassing. But I can give you a ride home.”

He lived in a town thirty miles in the opposite direction of where I needed to go.

“I'll be fine. I'm going to call home.”

“I'll at least wait until you do that.”

“What happened?” Mom asked immediately when she answered. She always expected the worst when I called at night.

“Trooper won't start.”

“Okay, I'll be there in a bit.”

“Can't Dad come?”

“He got called out.”

Which meant she'd have to wake Tyler or find someone to watch him. “Mom, I can get a ride with someone; come back for Trooper tomorrow.”

“It'll be fine, honey. Just tell me where to find you.”

I told her where I was parked.

“Keep the doors locked, windows up,” she reminded me, as though I didn't already know that.

“See you soon,” I told her. I looked at Marc. “My mom's coming.”

“I'll wait.”

“I hate for you to have to do that. It could be a while.”

He shrugged. “I'll just go home and binge-watch
Game of Thrones
again.”

Smiling, I got out of the car. We sat on the hood. The moon was still a bright orb in the sky. The breeze blowing off the ocean was keeping the bugs away. I could hear the lulling rush of the surf in the distance. I'd love to sleep out here some night. Better yet, in one of the beach houses. Not that I could afford the rent.