Endless Summer

“Too late,” he called after me.

I intended to flounce across his yard and mine, but I ran straight into a cloud of gnats. I spent the rest of the walk pressing one nostril closed with my finger while I expelled gnats from the other. Eat your heart out, Adam!

Except I didn’t want him to eat his heart out. I wanted to be friends with him. I wanted to be with him. I wanted to make out with him in the lake some more—that was for damn sure. I wanted him to stare longingly after me from the boat as I flounced to my house, which sounded a lot like I wanted him to eat his heart out. I didn’t know what I wanted.

I’d made it to my garage before I realized I was still wearing the skull and crossbones. I couldn’t get the knot undone. I turned the knot around to the front but still couldn’t pick it apart. e pendant was searing a hole through my skin. I cut through the leather string with garden shears and tried to grind the pendant into dust in my fist like a superhero. I opened my hand and found the outline of the skull and crossbones pressed into my palm.

I didn’t sleep well that night. is was probably a good thing. If I’d had to lie through one more dream about Sean being a tease, I would have had to slap him. When I woke up and found myself sleepwalking, who knew what wakeboarding posters I might have destroyed? I might even have found myself choking my childhood teddy bear, Mr. Wuggles, which would have traumatized me for life.

In the morning, I walked to the marina with the skull and crossbones in my pocket (actually, Adam’s pocket, the pocket of his cutoff jeans), intending to give it back to him and say something appropriate. This would have been a stretch for me, I know. To save my friendship with Adam, I would have found a way to do it.

Mrs. Vader assigned us both to the warehouse. Great, now she finally believed we were together? I tried to look at the long day with him as an opportunity to have a heart-to-heart with him. Another one. Actually, the convo the evening before had been more of a spleen-to-spleen.

I could never find the right time. He was busy locating boats to take down. I was busy checking the oil. e fulltime workers wandered in and out. Besides, this day of all days, he worked with his shirt off. Sweat glistened on his ta

ere were a few instances when I could have screwed up my courage, sidled up to him, handed him the skull and crossbones, and talked him down. But whenever I started toward him with this in mind, he flashed those blue eyes at me, and I felt that slap all over again.

It was such a relief to go wakeboarding that afternoon. Yes, I’d be trapped in the boat for over an hour with Adam and Sean, but at least I was out of the warehouse and into the strong sun and oppressive humidity. e Crappy Festival show was in two days. We all needed to nail down the course we wanted the boat to follow and the tricks we pla

Or not. Adam climbed out of the water and onto the platform after busting ass four times. He had a stare-down with Sean, who was getting in the water for his turn. If two girls had been in a fight like this, one of them would have flipped over the side of the boat rather than face probably the tenth stare-down of the day. But Sean and Adam were not two girls. And because I was a girl, it stressed me out more to watch them than it stressed them to growl at each other, teeth bared. I left my seat and slid into the bow, watching ahead of us as the boat drifted across the choppy water kicked up by the afternoon traffic.

The bench sank next to me, pulling me down into the hole. “So you still want Sean?” Adam hissed. “Let me give you some advice.”

“No thanks.” I leaned further over the bow to watch the large waves. A whitecap rolled by. A whitecap? You didn’t see those on the lake very often. e water was choppier than I’d ever seen it.

“At first,” Adam went on, “we thought we’d make him want something I had. You. Now he wants something you have.”

“Boobs?” I asked, trying to sound bored.

“Your place at the end of the wakeboarding show. row a jump and fake an injury. You have to make it look like you’re really hurt, so Cameron doesn’t rib Sean about girls making sacrifices just to go out with him.”

Cameron cranked the boat to pull Sean up, and my brother spotted. With the motor roaring and Nickelback blaring, I was free to tell Adam (loudly) exactly what I thought of that plan. I sat up and turned to face him.

Before I could get the words out, he leaned close and said, “I told you before you’re not a good actress. I have a lot more confidence in you now. I thought you liked me.

You had me fooled.”

I stared into his blue eyes, trying to see what was behind them. “You really want me to throw a jump and go out with Sean?”

“This has nothing to do with me,” he said grimly.

“It has everything to do with y—”

He put his finger to my lips. “If you want Sean, this is what you need to do, because this is how he is. Love him or leave him. I’m just trying to help.” He slid off the seat with a high zipping sound of his board shorts against the vinyl and bounced toward the back of the boat. He plopped down in the seat across the aisle from my brother and crossed his feet on the edge of the boat, relaxed, satisfied by a job well done. When Sean landed a front flip, then tumbled a couple of extra times before face-planting, Adam’s shoulders shook. He was laughing.

“Lori!” McGillicuddy shouted, standing directly in front of me. e boat drifted again, and Sean dripped on the platform. “I said, did you see the log? I guess you didn’t see the log, since you’re in a coma.”

“Log schmog.” I stood up and reached for my life vest.

McGillicuddy followed me as I stepped over Adam and Sean, who didn’t bother to move their feet out of the aisle as I passed. Just like old times. “There’s a huge log out near the pontoon boat,” McGillicuddy said. “When we get near it, I’m veering to the right of where we usually go. Okay?”

“Okay,” I said, sliding over the back of the boat to the platform and stepping into the bindings on my wakeboard.

“To the right,” Cameron laughed.

“I said okay.” I was in no mood to be teased about my driving right now.

e drone of the motorboat was great for thinking, fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on whether you hated yourself. At the moment I wasn’t enjoying it too much. I was supposed to be pi

Staring at him in the boat told me nothing. He was so far away that he was just a tan face with light brown hair, and if he’d changed places with Sean, I wouldn’t have known. But I stared at the boy I thought was Adam and tried to figure out exactly what he was plotting. Clearly he’d paid more attention to MTV reality shows than he’d let on.

If I pretended to get hurt so Sean could take my place in the show, he probably wouldn’t ask me out. He’d watched Adam and me while we were together, that was for sure. And I’d thought at first that the light had dawned and he’d seen my ravishing beauty for the first time. Looking back, though, I thought he’d watched Adam more than me. Sean had worried Rachel would get jealous and Adam would snatch her away again.

If Sean did ask me out, though, I’d know for sure that my internal makeover had worked—two days before the deadline of my sixteenth birthday! And I’d also know Adam had been right. Sean was so low, he couldn’t stand to ask out a girl who’d shown him up. It was almost worth throwing a jump just to see what happened and get some closure on this issue.

I could do any old jump and pretend to hurt my ankle. I’d hurt it last summer when I fell and my foot came halfway out of the binding, which was why I’d laced up the bindings so tightly since then. Faking a limp would be more difficult. But I’d need to limp for only two days, until the Crappy Festival show. e question was whether I should complain about it enough to go to the hospital and have them find nothing, which seemed like a huge waste of time and money. Adam had hurt himself before and had been in a lot of pain but refused to go to the hospital, so there was some precedent for this. Of course, he finally had to go, and his arm was broken in three places.