The Summer I Turned Pretty (19 page)

"I love it," I said.

I ran upstairs to my room and went straight for the music box on my dresser, where I kept my charm bracelet. I grabbed the bracelet and ran back downstairs.

"See?" I said, putting the key charm on and fastening it onto my wrist.

"It's a key, because you'll be driving soon. Get it?" Jeremiah said, leaning back in his chair and clasping his hands behind his head.

I got it. I smiled to show him I did.

Conrad leaned in for a closer look. "Nice," he said.

I held it in the palm of my other hand. I couldn't stop looking at it. "I love it," I said again. "But it's from Rheingold's. It must have been really expensive."

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"I saved up all summer to buy it," he said solemnly. I stared at him. "No, you didn't!" He broke into a smile. "Fooled ya. Gullible as ever, aren't you?"

Punching him on the arm, I said, "I didn't believe you anyway, jerk." Even though I had, for a second.

Jeremiah rubbed his arm where I'd punched it. "It wasn't that expensive. Anyway, I'm big-time now, remember? Don't worry about me. I'm just glad you like it. Yolie said you would."

I hugged him fiercely. "It's perfect."

"What a wonderful gift, Jere," Susannah said. "It's better than my old necklace, that's for sure."

He laughed. "Yeah, right," he said, but I could tell he was pleased.

My mother got up and started cutting the cake. She wasn't a very good cake cutter: The pieces were too big, and they fell apart on the sides. "Who wants cake?" she said, licking her finger.

"I'm not hungry," Conrad said abruptly. He stood up, looking at his watch. "I've gotta get dressed for work. Happy birthday, Belly."

He went upstairs, and nobody said anything for a minute. Then my mother said, loudly, "This cake is delicious. Have some, Beck." She pushed a piece in front of her.

Smiling faintly, Susannah said, "I'm not hungry either.

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You know what they say about the cook not having taste for her own cooking. But you guys eat."

I took a big bite. "Mmm. Yellow cake, my favorite."

"From scratch," my mother said.

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chapter thirty - nine

Conrad invited Nicole, Red Sox girl, over to the house. Our house. I couldn't believe Red Sox girl was at our house. It was bizarre to have a girl there other than me.

It was midafternoon. I was out on the deck, sitting at the patio table, eating a Doritos sandwich when they drove up. She was wearing short shorts and a white T-shirt, and a pair of sunglasses on top of her head. The Red Sox hat was nowhere in sight. She looked chic. She looked like she belonged. Unlike me, in my old Cuz Beach shirt that doubled as a pajama dress. I thought he'd at least bring her inside the house, but they hung out on the other side of the deck, lying on the lounge chairs. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but I could hear her giggling like crazy.

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After about five minutes I couldn't take it anymore. I got on the phone and called Cam. He said he'd be over in half an hour, but it was more like fifteen minutes.

They walked back into the house when Cam and I were arguing over which movie to watch. "What are you guys gonna watch?" Conrad asked, sitting on the couch opposite us. Red Sox girl sat next to him. She was practically in his lap.

I didn't look at him when I said, "We're trying to decide." Emphasis on the "we're."

"Can we watch too?" Conrad asked. "You guys know Nicole, right?"

So, suddenly Conrad felt like being social when he'd spent the whole summer locked up in his room?

"Hey," she said in a bored tone.

"Hey," I said, matching her tone as best I could.

"Hey, Nicole," Cam said. I wanted to tell him not to be so friendly, but I knew he wouldn't have listened anyway. "I want to watch Reservoir Dogs
,
but Belly wants to watch Titanic."

"Seriously?" the girl said, and Conrad laughed.

"Belly loves Titanic," he said mockingly.

"I loved it when I was, like, nine," I said. "I want to watch right now so I can laugh at it, for your information."

I was as cool as a cucumber. I wasn't going to let him

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goad me in front of Cam again. And actually, I still loved Titanic. What wasn't to love about a doomed romance on a doomed ship? I knew for a fact that Conrad had liked it too, even though he'd pretended not to.

"I vote for Reservoir Dogs" Nicole said, examining her fingernails.

Did she even get a vote? What was she doing there anyway?

"Two votes for Reservoir Dogs
"
Cam said. "What about you, Conrad?"

"I think I'll vote for Titanic" he said blandly. "Reservoir Dogs sucks even harder than Titanic. It's overrated."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "You know what? I think I'll change my vote to Reservoir Dogs. So it looks like you're outnumbered, Conrad," I said.

Nicole looked up from her fingernails and said, "Well, then, I change my vote to
Titanic."

"Who are you?" I muttered under my breath. "Does she even get voting privileges here?"

"Does he?" Conrad jerked his elbow at Cam, who looked startled. "Just kidding, man."

"Let's just watch Titanic" Cam said, taking the DVD out of its case.

We sat and watched stiffly. Everyone else busted up laughing at the part when Jack stands at the helm and says, "I'm the king of the world." I was silent. About midway through, Nicole whispered something into Conrad's

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ear, and the two of them stood up. "See you guys later," Conrad said.

As soon as they were gone, I hissed, "They're so disgusting. They probably went upstairs to go at it."

"Go at it? Who says 'go at it'?" Cam said, bemused.

"Shut up. Don't you think she was gross?"

"Gross? No. I think she's cute. A little too much bronzer, maybe."

I laughed in spite of myself. "Bronzer? What do you know about bronzer?"

"I have an older sister, remember," he said, smiling self-consciously. "She likes makeup. We share a bathroom."

I didn't remember Cam saying he had a sister.

"Well, anyway, she does wear too much bronzer. She's bright orange! I wonder where her Red Sox hat is," I mused.

Cam picked up the remote control and paused the movie. "Why are you so obsessed with her?"

"I'm not obsessed with her. Why would I be obsessed with her? She has no personality. She's like one of those pod people. She looks at Conrad like he's God." I knew he was judging me for being so mean, but I couldn't stop talking.

He looked at me like he wanted to say something, but he didn't. Instead he turned the movie back on.

We sat there on the couch and finished watching the movie in silence. Toward the end I heard Conrad's voice

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on the stairs, and without even thinking I snuggled closer to Cam. I rested my head on his shoulder.

Conrad and Nicole came back downstairs, and Conrad looked at the two of us for a second before saying, "Tell my mom I took Nicole home."

I barely looked up. "Okay."

As soon as they were gone, Cam sat straight up, and I did too. He took a breath. "Did you invite me over here to make him jealous?"

"Who?" I said.

"You know who. Conrad."

I could feel a flush rising up my chest and all the way to my cheeks. "No." It seemed like everybody was wanting to know where things stood with Conrad and me.

"Do you still like him?"

"No."

He let out a breath of air. "See, you hesitated." "No, I didn't!"

Did I? Had I? I was sure I hadn't. To Cam I said, "When I look at Conrad, all I feel is disgust."

I could tell he didn't believe it. I didn't either. Because the truth was, when I looked at Conrad, all I felt was a yearning that never went away. It was the same as it had always been. Here I had this really great guy who actually liked me, and deep down inside I was still hung up on Conrad. There, that was the real truth. I had never really let go. I was just like Rose on that stupid makeshift raft.

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Cam cleared his throat and said, "You're leaving soon. Do you want to keep in touch?"

I hadn't thought about that. He was right, the summer was almost over. Pretty soon I would be home again. "Um ... do you?"

"Well, yeah. I do."

He looked at me like he was expecting something, and I couldn't figure out what it was for a few seconds. Then I said, "Me too. I do too." But it came too late. Cam took his cell phone out of his pocket and said he'd better get going. I didn't argue.

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chapter forty

We finally had our movie night. My mother, Susannah, Jeremiah, and I watched Susannah's favorite Alfred Hitchcock movies in the rec room with all the lights off. My mother made kettle corn in the big cast-iron pot, and she went out and bought Milk Duds and gummy bears and saltwater taffy. Susannah loved saltwater taffy. It was classic, like old times, only without Steven and Conrad, who was working a dinner shift.

Halfway through
Notorious,
her most favorite of all, Susannah fell asleep. My mother covered her with a blanket, and when the movie was over, she whispered, "Jeremiah, will you carry her upstairs?"

Jeremiah, nodded quickly, and Susannah didn't even wake up when he lifted her in his arms and carried her up the rec room stairs. He picked her up like she was

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weightless, a feather. I'd never seen him do that before. Even though we were almost the same age, in that moment he almost seemed grown-up.

My mother got up too, stretching. "I'm exhausted. Are you going to bed, too, Belly?"

"Not yet. I think I'll clean up down here first," I said.

"Good girl," she said, winking at me, and then she headed upstairs.

I started picking up the taffy wrappers and a few kernels that had fallen onto the carpet.

Jeremiah came back down when I was putting the movie into its case. He sank into the couch cushions. "Let's not go to sleep yet," he said, looking up at me.

"Okay. Do you wanna watch another movie?"

"Nah. Let's just watch TV." He picked up the remote and started flipping through channels randomly. "Where's Cam Cameron been lately?"

Sitting back down, I sighed a little. "I don't know. He hasn't called, and I haven't called him. The summer's almost over. I'll probably never see him again."

He didn't look at me when he said, "Do you want to? See him again?"

"I don't know. . . . I'm not sure. Maybe. Maybe not."

Jeremiah put the TV on mute. He turned and looked at me then. "I don't think he's the guy for you." His eyes looked somber. I'd never seen him look so somber.

Lightly I said, "Yeah, I doubt it too."

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"Belly . . . ," he began. He took a deep breath of air and puffed up his cheeks, and then he blew it out so hard the hair on his forehead fluttered. I could feel my heart start to pound--something was going to happen. He was going to say something I didn't want to hear. He was going to go and change everything.

I opened my mouth to speak, to interrupt him before he said something he couldn't take back, and he shook his head. "Just let me get this out."

He took another deep breath. "You've always been my best friend. But now it's more. I see you as more than that." He continued, scooting closer to me. "You're cooler than any other girl I've ever met, and you're there for me. You've always been there for me. I ... I can count on you. And you can count on me too. You know that."

I nodded. I could hear him talking, see his lips moving, but my mind was working a million miles a minute. This was Jeremiah. My buddy, my best pal. Practically my brother. The hugeness of it all made it hard to breathe. I could barely look at him. Because I didn't. I didn't see him that way. There was only one person. For me that person was Conrad.

"And I know you've always liked Conrad, but you're over him now, right?" His eyes looked so hopeful, it killed me, killed me to not answer him the way he wanted me to.

"I ... I don't know," I whispered.

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He sucked in his breath, the way he did when he was frustrated. "But why? He doesn't see you that way. I do."

I could feel my eyes starting to tear up, which wasn't fair. I couldn't cry. It was just that he was right. Conrad didn't see me that way. I only wished I could see Jeremiah the way he saw me. "I know. I wish I didn't. But I do. I still do."

Jeremiah moved away from me. He wouldn't look at me; his eyes looked everywhere but at mine. "He'll only end up hurting you," he said, and his voice cracked.

"I'm so, so sorry. Please don't be mad at me. I couldn't take it if you were mad at me."

He sighed. "I'm not mad at you. I'm just--why does it always have to be Conrad?"

Then he got up, and left me sitting there.

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chapter forty one

AGE 12

Mr. Fisher had taken the boys on one of their overnight deep-sea fishing trips. Jeremiah couldn't go; he'd been sick earlier that day so Susannah made him stay home. The two of us spent the night on the old plaid couch in the basement eating chips and dip and watching movies.

In between The Terminator
and
Terminator 2, Jeremiah said bitterly, "He likes Con better than me, you know."

I had gotten up to change the DVDs, and I turned around and said, "Huh?"

"It's true. I don't really care anyway. I think he's a dick," Jeremiah said, picking at a thread on the flannel blanket in his lap.

I thought he was kind of a dick too, but I didn't say so. You're not supposed to join in when someone

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is bashing his father. I just put the DVD in and sat back down. Taking a corner of the blanket, I said, "He's not so bad."

Jeremiah gave me a look. "He is, and you know it. Con thinks he's God or something. So does your brother."

"It's just that your dad is so different from our dad," I said defensively. "Your dad takes you guys fishing and, like, plays football with you. Our dad doesn't do that kind of stuff. He likes chess."