Senior Week Fling Read online

  Now, I am not an unattractive girl. Some people even seem to think I’m kind of pretty. But I didn’t have the overnight ugly duckling scenario happen, I just sort of evolved like a normal human being, so Adam’s sudden transformation and the newfound popularity with the ladies was a bit of a shock. Three years have passed since Adam became the school’s number one heartthrob and sometimes it still took me by surprise.

  And what did Adam think of the newfound female attention? Well, he was a red-blooded teenage boy, after all. He was most definitely not complaining. And so began the long, steady procession of girls. But the thing was, he never became some heartless Lothario. No one, not even his many exes, could ever accuse him of being a player.

  The exterior may have undergone a major overhaul but inside, Adam was still the same geek who could reenact scenes from Goonies on demand. My point is, Adam was a loyal, sweet guy—always has been, always would be— he had just never found a girl who could hold his attention for very long. Personally, I blame all the video games we played growing up for his short attention span. It’s not like he was incapable of being in a long term commitment or anything, he’d just never been in love.

  As for me, I had a tendency to fall for the bad boys, an undeniable weakness for dropouts and hoodlums, and Ryan was the last in a long line of losers. Except that Ryan was different. Or, at least, what we had was different. I actually had feelings for him and when he left—well, it wasn’t pretty. I’d pretty much been on a hiatus from guys since then.

  Adam had given new meaning to the term supportive during the whole Ryan debacle. He ended things with Lindsay shortly after the meltdown and he’d been by my side ever since, alternately acting as therapist and cheerleader to make sure I didn’t fall back into the horrible black hole of depression that followed the breakup. Between him, Victoria, and Mark, depression didn’t stand a chance.

  Mark was sitting in the backseat when Victoria and I piled into the car. He’d become a member of our motley little crew the year before when he transferred from a school on the other side of town. The common theory was that he’d been expelled for drugs. You’d think so to look at him; Mark was grungy bordering on punk, with piercings, tattoos…the works. He looked like trouble. But, just like Victoria, looks could be deceiving. He was actually a really sweet guy.

  “Hey kids, how was school today?” Adam asked in his best soccer dad voice as we climbed in.

  I rolled my eyes. “Oh, it was super. You missed out on all the fun.”

  “So,” he drawled. “How do you feel?”

  “Um, fine…why?”

  “Because you’re finished! You’re a high school graduate!”

  Victoria cheered loudly from the backseat and I grinned back at her. “We’re free!” I shouted, the excitement slowly making its way back into me. “Well, almost. We haven’t gotten the actual diplomas yet.”

  “Minor detail,” Adam said. Graduation was to take place the following week. They planned Senior Week so that it fell between finals and graduation. Someone had the foresight to realize that once that piece of paper was in our hands, there was no way they could convince us all to spend time in one another’s company.

  “So, how do you guys want to celebrate this newfound freedom?” I asked, bouncing a little in my seat.

  “The diner?” Adam suggested.

  “Sounds good,” I said.

  “I’m in,” Victoria said.

  We all looked to Mark who nodded. Mark was not a man of words. He was so quiet that you could easily forget that he was in the room. But when he did speak, people listened. He was that kind of guy.

  Adam drove us to the Malibu Diner, our favorite hangout spot. There was nothing outstanding about the Malibu Diner. It was your typical dingy joint, complete with exceptionally greasy food and cranky waitresses. But it was cheap and they kept the coffee flowing and over the years we had become sort of proprietary about the place.

  “I’d like to propose a toast,” Adam said, lifting his mug. We all followed suit.

  “To the end of an era,” he said.

  “And to new beginnings,” Victoria added.

  “And new beginnings,” he amended. We clinked our mugs, splashing coffee onto the tabletop. “So what do you guys want to do tonight?”

  “Pack,” Victoria said. “We’re leaving for the shore tomorrow morning, remember?”

  “How long could it possibly take you to pack?” I asked. “Throw in some swim suits and sun block and you’re set.”

  Victoria threw her straw wrapper at me. “We don’t all wake up looking as beautiful as you,” she teased. “Some of us require some preparation.”

  “Preparation for what?” Adam asked. “You’re just going to be hanging out with the three of us and a bunch of other people you’ve seen every day for the past four years.”

  “You never know,” Victoria sang sweetly. “I have a feeling that this is going to be the week.”

  “The week?” Mark asked.

  Victoria nodded and tossed her long blond hair. “The week,” she repeated. “I foresee romance for all four of us. This week will be the start of our Summer of Love.”

  We all laughed and rolled our eyes. “Nice try, V,” Mark said.

  She was talking to a jaded group.

  “What about you, Mark?” I asked. “Are you up for hanging out tonight or do you need to spend the night primping, too?”

  He shook his head. “Band practice.” Mark was the bassist in a punk band that played at clubs all over town.

  “Well then I guess it’s just you and me,” I said to Adam.

  “Looks that way. My place or yours?”

  “Yours,” I said. “My folks are having one of their dinner parties tonight.”

  “You up for a movie marathon night?” he asked. We’d been having movie marathon nights since we were little. They required an insane amount of junk food and the ability to endure a whole lot of sleep deprivation. His parents were used to finding us sprawled out on their oversized living room couch in the morning, surrounded by discarded wrappers and empty ice cream cartons. It wasn’t the healthiest ritual in the world, but we liked it.

  “Just remember, we’re leaving for the shore at nine sharp tomorrow morning,” Victoria said, stabbing her coffee stirrer in our direction. “I don’t want to hear any excuses about being too tired. Understood?”

  “Yes, Mom,” Adam said.

  Chapter Three

  Okay, so we were a little late. But watching all three Godfather movies took us well into the early hours of the morning and really, who said we had to get to the beach early anyway? I woke up to find that at some point during the night, Adam and I had shifted and he was sprawled out on my side of the couch, his arm flung over my waist. I groaned when I saw the clock on my phone.

  “Wake up, we’re going to be late,” I said, nudging Adam’s shoulder. It was a struggle to keep my eyes open but the thought of an irate Victoria gave me incentive. “Victoria’s going to kill us if we’re not there at nine,” I mumbled. I shook Adam’s shoulder again but he just shifted positions until he was practically laying on top of me. His scruffy, unshaven face was too close for comfort. We were close but we weren’t that close.

  But even I could see why all the girls fell for him. Apart from the chiseled features and nice body, he had that tortured artist look that drove girls crazy. It was the eyes that did it though. They were soulful and warm and, without even trying, he had this way of looking at a girl that made it seem like she was the only girl in the room. There was something about him that made every girl he dated want to take care of him, to save him. Save him from what, I don’t know. Me, possibly.

  Adam was holding on to sleep for dear life. The more I tried to wake him the more he cuddled up against me like I was his favorite blankie. The worst part was I couldn’t move; I was trapped beneath him. “Get up,” I growled, punching him in his arm.

  “Hey! Ow.” His eyes opened and he blinked in surprise at the sight of my face so clos
e to his. He rolled over to sit up and I shook out the arm and leg that he’d pinned to try to get the blood flowing again. “What time is it?” he muttered.

  “Nine,” I said. “We’re already late.”

  Victoria and Mark were ready and waiting when we arrived at their houses so we were on the road and at Adam’s beach house before lunch. I got out of the car and stretched my arms over head, tilting my head to the sun before turning and facing the house.

  It was hard to believe how much had changed since I’d last been there.

  This time last year I was in love. Crazy, head over heels, nutty in love. I’d never imagined I could fall so hard. There’s this great scene in Annie Hall, my all-time favorite movie, when Woody Allen’s character tries to tell Annie how much he loves her but he decides that the word love isn’t strong enough so he makes up new words. “I lurve you, you know, I loave you, I luff you, two F's…”

  That’s how I felt. Love didn’t begin to cover it. I luffed Ryan. Two F’s.

  He was one of Mark’s friends from his old school and had just graduated when I met him. He and Mark were in different bands, but they always came out to support each other, so Adam and I tagged along with Mark when he went to see them play at an all ages club two towns over.

  I can’t say it was love at first sight because I don’t know if I even believe in that. But if it wasn’t love at first sight then it was totally lust at first sound. The moment he stepped on stage and started to sing, I was hooked. He was gorgeous in that scruffy, bad boy way that I loved and when he sang it was like he was speaking only to me. Low and kind of raspy, his voice sent chills down my spine.

  I’m still amazed I managed to utter two words when Mark introduced us after the show. Ryan took my extended hand but he didn’t shake it, he just sort of held on. His touch was electric and the look in his eyes when he smiled at me made my stomach do a backflip. That was when I knew. The feeling was mutual.

  I couldn’t believe my luck. He had picked me out of every girl there. I didn’t know why but it didn’t matter. He kept me by his side all night as he talked to his friends and fans. We exchanged numbers before I left and I hadn’t even reached the car when I got a cute, flirty text saying that he missed me already.

  Dating with Ryan was anything but conventional. There were no dinner dates, no holding hands at the movies, no cheesy overtures of flowers and candy. But that was fine by me. I’d never gone in for the mushy stuff. Ryan was a low key guy and I was happy just to be around him so our ‘dates’ usually consisted of me hanging out in the garage while he and his band rehearsed or the two of us sneaking off to private rooms when his friends would throw parties.

  He and his friends threw a lot of parties.

  Despite the fact that we never did the typical date thing, it didn’t mean that Ryan wasn’t romantic in his own, unique way. He was nothing if not impulsive. I remember, during those first few weeks we were together, he would show up at my window at all hours of night just to say hi.

  That’s the stage we were at when Adam and I came to Wildwood for our annual summer vacation. Adam and I had been looking forward to our trip all spring but when the time came to leave, I was torn. Ryan was a drug for me. Two weeks away from him felt like an eternity. What if he found someone new? What was I going to do with myself without my daily Ryan fix?

  Ryan kept saying he’d try to come and visit but it never worked out timing wise. He did text constantly though—to the point where Adam finally hid my phone on me. I admit it…I was that annoying girl who was obsessively checking her phone. But, despite my annoying texting problem, Adam and I had a great trip last year.

  I looked around at the familiar surroundings—the white clapboard house, the brightly painted shutters - at least this year there was nothing to distract me. I could enjoy one of my favorite places in the world with no disruptions whatsoever. It looked like there were some perks to being single after all.

  “Victoria, how is it that you have more luggage than the three of us put together?” Adam asked as he and Mark helped her carry her bags into the house. She pointedly ignored him.

  “Let’s hit the beach before lunch,” she said to me. “I need to work on my tan.”

  “You go on ahead. I want to get settled in a bit first.”

  She was up the stairs and changing into her swimsuit as soon as Adam unlocked the front door. She and Mark had both come to visit for a long weekend last summer when Adam and I were here with our parents so they both knew their way around.

  “Are we in the same bedroom as last year?” Victoria shouted down from the top of the stairs.

  “Yeah,” I called back.

  She and I would bunk together in the room that Adam and I used to share. And when I say bunk together, I’m being literal. The room still had the same wooden bunk beds we’d been sleeping in since we were kids. Mark, the lone snorer of the group, would sleep in the spare guest bedroom and Adam would take his parents’ room, at the top of the stairs.

  Adam’s parents inherited the house when his grandparents, Mort and Mimi, died years before. His parents hadn’t had the heart to make any changes so the beach house had become a sort of homage to times gone by. Like Mimi’s old house robe that she’d worn every day until the day she died, the house was tattered and frayed and not exactly the height of fashion - but it always felt like home.

  The thick shag carpet was worn from years of children and grandchildren running through with sandy feet. The walls of the kitchen were the same cheerful yellow that Mimi had picked out ages ago and the knickknacks they’d collected over the years still adorned every piece of furniture in the house. All of the beds were covered with Mimi’s homemade quilts and nearly every room in the house featured one of Mort’s seaside paintings. Painting was a hobby he picked up later in life so the paintings had a tendency to be rather….abstract.

  The house had so many memories; it was like a personalized time capsule for Adam and me. Over the years I became a sort of honorary grandchild since Adam and I were a package deal, so pictures of the two of us were everywhere. They lined the walls in the hallways and covered the end tables in the living room so a tour of the house was literally a walk down memory lane. I winced in horror as I passed a picture of the two of us from three summers ago when I was at the height of my awkward phase. We’re talking braces, zits, a totally ill-advised haircut—the works.

  I made a mental note to take that one down and hide it in the attic when Adam wasn’t looking. Above the old Steinway piano were two sets of clay handprints from Kindergarten with our names scrawled in crayon underneath. Adam came up behind me and rested his chin on my shoulder.

  “Missing kindergarten?” he teased.

  “Those were the good old days,” I sighed.

  “Just promise me you won’t cry at the ceremony next week like you did at our kindergarten graduation, okay?”

  I laughed and spun around to face him. “I did not!”

  “Did too!” he said smirking at me.

  We went back and forth as we made our way upstairs to our rooms to unpack. Some things would never change.

  Victoria returned a few hours later and we all made sandwiches and stretched out on the back deck, surveying the ocean.

  “I can’t believe we’re finally here,” I said through bites of turkey. “I thought the school year would never end.”

  “So what are we going to do tonight?” Adam asked.

  “Boardwalk?” I suggested.

  The boardwalk was my favorite part of Wildwood. What wasn’t to love? There were more ice cream stands and pizza places than I could count and at the far end there were piers full of every ride you could imagine.

  “Sounds good,” Mark said.

  “Sorry, guys, but we have other plans,” Victoria said.

  “We do?” Adam asked.

  By the look on Victoria’s face, I just knew I wasn’t going to like these plans.

  “Lindsay’s having a pool party to kick off Senior Week and I so
rta told her we’d be there.”

  Mark and Adam groaned in unison.

  “You did what?” My voice hit a squeaky hight note that borderes on shrill.

  “Sorry, guys, but she was so insistent and…well, you know how she can be,” Victoria pleaded.

  “She does have an uncanny way of getting people to do what she wants,” Mark said.

  “We all don’t have to go, right?” I asked hopefully.

  Victoria toyed with her food as she appeared to think it over. “No, I guess not.”

  “I mean, we all know there’s only one of us who Lindsay really wants to see…” I hinted.

  “Uh-uh,” Adam interrupted. “Oh no. I’m not going to be the sacrificial lamb, thank you very much. If I have to go, so do you.”

  “But—” I started.

  “We don’t have to stay long,” Victoria cut off my protest. “We’ll stop by, make an appearance and then we can go off to the boardwalk. Deal?”

  “Fine,” I grumbled. “But it’s not like Lindsay wants to see me there anyway, I don’t see why I can’t skip it.”

  I wasn’t really in the mood to be on the receiving end of more digs about my relationship with Ryan.

  “Don’t worry, Eve, we’ve got all week to enjoy the boardwalk and the beach,” Mark assured me.

  I took a swig of my Dr. Pepper and crossed my arms over my chest. Fine. Maybe Mark was right. Was I going to let one irritating little girl ruin my entire week? No. I shielded my eyes against the sun and stared out at the ocean. I would be zen about this dammit. Lindsay would not get me down.

  Victoria fell back in her chair. “Perfect. Now, who wants to go to the beach?”

  “I’m in,” I said.

  “Me too,” Adam said.

  Mark nodded.

  The beach that the house was on wasn’t private but it was much quieter than the beach that ran along the heart of the town. There were only a handful of people out when we got out there. Victoria dropped her oversized J. Crew bag and matching beach towel on the sand and started to strip down to her new swimsuit. “I’m going to go check out the water, who’s with me?”