Wrong About the Guy

  “Oh, right. I’ll get that now. Want me to put it on him?”

  “He won’t let you,” I said. “Just bring it here.”

  He nodded and made his way into the changing room.

  “How is he your tutor?” Aaron asked, lowering his voice. “He looks like he’s our age.”

  “He’s not that much older—just precocious. He went to college when he was like sixteen. According to his brother, he got a perfect score on the SATs.”

  “The SATs are overrated. Everyone knows the real test of brilliance is being able to balance a Styrofoam noodle on the palm of your hand.” He proceeded to demonstrate with admirable dexterity.

  I tried to get Jacob to look at Aaron’s trick, but he was too fascinated by the water running off his fingers to glance over.

  “Here you go.” George had returned and was studying the swim diaper in his hand. “How is it different from a regular one?”

  “It holds the poop in but lets the pee out.”

  “‘Out’ as in . . . into the pool?”

  I nodded.

  “I really would have preferred not to know that.” Aaron eyed the water with sudden suspicion.

  “Oh, relax,” I said. “The chlorine kills everything. George, you should go swimming before it’s completely dark out.”

  He hesitated, then said, “Yeah.” He started to walk toward the changing room, halted, looked like he was going to say something, then just shook his head and disappeared inside.

  “So that’s the sort of genius that gets into Harvard, huh?” Aaron said.

  “Him’s got book larning.” I got out of the pool and changed Jacob into the swim diaper. “What do you say, baby dude? Ready to take the plunge?” I picked him up and he wrapped his legs around my waist and his arms around my neck. I walked over to the steps and waded back into the pool. I could feel his body tighten as we entered the water. He dug his fingers into me and frowned with concentration—and maybe concern—but he didn’t scream or fight me.

  Aaron joined us by the steps and watched as I gently dunked Jacob up to his waist. He shivered and then gave a shuddery laugh.

  “I wish Mia were older,” Aaron said. “She’s still too little to be much fun.”

  “What’s it like living with the three of them?”

  “It’s fine. No one much cares when I come and go, which is a nice change. My mom can be a little smothering. She means well, but . . .” He shrugged. “She hates that I’m here.”

  “How’d you get her to agree to let you come?”

  “Dad and I were both kind of relentless about it. And I think her husband was all in favor of the idea. But she’s worried I’ll be corrupted here in Hollywood, with no one to keep an eye on me. Plus she’s not a fan of Crystal’s—thinks she’s a total gold digger.”

  “How about you? Do you think Crystal’s a gold digger?” I wondered myself. Michael was rich and famous and middle-aged; Crystal was young and beautiful and had been a struggling, unsuccessful actress when they met. And Michael’s track record with women wasn’t too impressive.

  “Not sure yet,” Aaron said. “I’d believe it though.”

  I heard a door open and looked around. George was coming out of the changing room in a pair of short purple bathing trunks.

  I gave a long wolf whistle and George shot me an exasperated look from across the pool.

  “This is ridiculous,” he said, flicking at the suit.

  “The important thing is that you wear it so well.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Shorter trunks are totally in fashion,” Aaron said.

  “Not in that color, they’re not,” I said.

  Aaron flicked water at me. “You’re mean.”

  “It’s not my fault if the truth hurts.”

  “I’m not hurt,” George said, sitting on the edge of the pool. “I didn’t pick these out.” He slid carefully into the water.

  He took off toward the deep end with long measured strokes.

  “Do you think—” I started to say to Aaron, but I was interrupted by Luke’s call of “Kids! Time to eat!” from up above.

  “Dinner,” I said. “We should get out.”

  “No,” said Jacob, to my surprise.

  “Hot dogs,” I told him. “We’re going to eat hot dogs.”

  He lunged so suddenly toward the steps that I almost dropped him.

  “Whatever you do, don’t mention the kale salad,” I stage-whispered to Aaron as we climbed out of the pool. “That could turn this right around.”

  ten

  After dumping Jacob into Mom’s arms with an unceremonious “He’s all yours,” I ran into the house to change out of my wet bathing suit and into a striped boatneck top and a pair of oversized sweatpants, which I rolled down at the waist. I released my hair from its elastic and just left it wild on my shoulders. It was still slightly damp, so it was only going to get bigger as the night went on, but I was okay with that; I had long ago made my peace with having hair I couldn’t control.

  I ran downstairs and into the backyard on bare feet.

  The others had already gotten their food and were eating it at the table, so I filled my own plate at the counter, and then George came up from the pool area, dressed, with his hair still dripping in his eyes.

  “This is incredible,” he said, looking at the spread.

  “I believe the word you’re looking for is obscene.”

  The adults were gathered at one end of the outdoor dining room table, with Jacob on Mom’s lap and Mia on Megan’s. I sat at the far end, next to Aaron. There was an empty place on my other side, and once he’d helped himself to the food, George eyed the table and, after a moment of hesitation, sat there.

  “You kids ready to go back to school?” Luke called down the table.

  “Shhh,” I said, stabbing my fork into a piece of fish. “I’m in denial. The summer can’t be over—I had such big plans for it.”

  “Oh, right,” Mom said. “Weren’t you going to start a running program? Train for a 5K?”

  “It’s been too hot.”

  “And yet we had an unusually cool July,” she said.

  “Do you play any team sports, Ellie?” Michael asked. “I want Aaron to go out for something. It’s a great way to meet people and make friends.”

  “I played lacrosse,” I said. “Freshman year. And I did a season of softball. Oh, and I was on the swim team for a while last year but they expected us to get there at six every morning and—What’s so funny?” This was to George, who looked way too amused, given the fact I didn’t think I’d said anything particularly witty.

  “Nothing.” He sawed his knife through his steak in a quick, clean motion.

  “I like to try different things,” I said, annoyed.

  Mia suddenly let out a huge wail, making table-long conversation temporarily impossible.

  Aaron stood up abruptly. “I’m going to grab a beer. Anyone else want one?” We both declined. I watched as he went into the kitchen area and got a beer from the outdoor refrigerator. As he was walking by the adults, Crystal looked up and said something to him. He shrugged in response and she touched Michael’s arm and pointed to the beer. Michael gave an identical shrug, and Aaron shot Crystal a triumphant look.

  Megan had walked away from the table so she could shush and bounce the baby, and Aaron dropped into her seat, joining the adult conversation.

  “She hasn’t gotten a chance to eat,” George said in a low voice.

  “Who?”

  He was getting to his feet. “Excuse me,” he said, and walked over to Megan, then held out his arms in an offer to take Mia from her. Megan shook her head at first, but he said, “Just for a few minutes, so you can have some dinner.” She still hesitated for another moment or two, but then passed the baby to him. She watched anxiously while he tried to find a comfortable way to hold Mia—he clearly wasn’t any more used to holding babies than toddlers—but he said, “It’s okay. I’ve got this,” and she suddenly flashed a brilliant
smile. “Five minutes,” she said. “That’s enough.” She ran over to the food and quickly filled a plate.

  George moved onto the grass and started walking the baby in slow, careful circles. She wasn’t screaming anymore, just mildly fretting, but she still had tears on her cheeks; they glinted in the little white lights Mom had asked the gardeners to string on the trellis for the summer.

  I had no one to talk to now, so I got up and went to them. “I can take her,” I said, and held my arms out.

  “It’s okay. You should keep eating.”

  “I’m done. Come on, give her to me. I’m amazing with babies.”

  George shifted Mia into my arms. I tried to cuddle her against me but she whined and moved her head restlessly. “She’s just tired,” I said. “Jacob always used to get cranky right before he went to sleep. Actually, he still does. Actually, so do I.” I started to bounce her rhythmically, shifting from foot to foot with a little dip on each side, and she stopped complaining. “Ah, see? I bet she’ll be asleep in two minutes.”

  “You’re good with kids.”

  “That’s because I relate to them—I’m selfish and demanding and I cry when I don’t get my way.”

  “I guess it takes a spoiled child to soothe a spoiled child,” he said.

  “I wouldn’t go that far.” I cuddled Mia against me. “We’re demanding but we’re not spoiled.”

  “Mm-hmm,” he said.

  Video chatting with Heather later that night, I said, “I’m not spoiled, right?”

  “Of course not,” she said. “You’re the best person in the world.”

  For some reason, the hyperbole was less reassuring than a simple no would have been. “I do a lot for other people,” I said, sitting down with a thump on my desk chair and peering at her on the screen. “I’m going to be running the Holiday-Giving Program at school—did I tell you about that?”

  “No,” she said. “What is it?”

  “We give families who live in shelters Thanksgiving turkeys and Christmas presents and stuff like that. I’m president this year. Well, co-president.”

  “That’s really cool. You do a lot of nice things for people. Especially me.” She smiled. “Why are you even worrying about this?”

  “George called me spoiled.”

  “Really? That’s so mean.”

  “He was mostly joking.”

  “Then stop worrying about it! You’re being ridiculous.” She had braided her thick fair hair while we were talking and now she whisked the tip of her braid over her lips like she was dusting them. “When do I get to meet Aaron? I’m dying to.”

  “I’ll text him and make a plan. I want to know what you think.”

  “I can’t wait! If he’s half as cute as he looks in his photos—”

  “He’s cuter,” I said. “And funny. And smart. He’s nothing like the boys from school. He’s a million times cooler—but not in a fake cool way, you know? Like he’s just his own person. And you should see him with his shirt off. Everyone should see him with his shirt off. It should be like the universal Christmas present for good girls everywhere.”

  “Happy sigh,” she said with a happy sigh. “So you’re totally in love.”

  I shook my head. “In love, no. But there is potential there.”

  “That’s the most positive thing you’ve ever said about any guy.”

  “Well, you know how I feel about dating in high school. It’s always a mistake.”

  “But if you and Aaron fell in love—”

  “That’s a big if.” I tried to picture the two of us kissing. The thought wasn’t repulsive. I shrugged. “We’ll see. Hold on—I want you to help me pick out what I’m going to wear tomorrow.” I got up and walked into my closet, which was the kind of closet you can walk into, and pulled out a pair of skinny jeans and a long-sleeved transparent top. I brought them over to the computer so she could see them. “How about this? I’d wear a tank underneath, of course, and boots.”

  “It’s going to be hot tomorrow,” she said.

  “So? There’ll be air-conditioning.”

  “You’re lucky. My stupid school doesn’t have air-conditioning. Or a pool. Or a library. Or anything good.”

  “I wish you could go to Coral Tree with me.”

  “Yeah.” A couple of years ago, I talked Heather into asking her parents if she could transfer there. They couldn’t afford the tuition, but I thought maybe she could get financial aid. But the school rejected her application before money even got discussed. Heather said it was because she hadn’t gotten very good scores on the private school entrance exams. “But it’s probably just as well,” she said now. “Everyone’s so smart there. I’d be at the bottom of the class.”

  “You’re a lot smarter than you think you are. And definitely a lot smarter than most of the kids I know there.” I studied the outfit. “I don’t know . . . should I go more summery? I have this new Alice and Olivia dress. . . .”

  Heather wanted to see it, so I got it out and showed her. It was a simple yellow shift dress with a seventies kind of vibe.

  “Wow,” she said. “You’d look amazing in that.”

  “You don’t think it’s too dressy?”

  “Wear it,” she said firmly. “It’s the last first day of high school ever. That’s huge.”

  I got a lot of compliments on my dress at school on Tuesday. Also a lot of compliments on my hair. And on my brilliant comments in class. And on my smile and my shoes and my makeup and my car and my bag and, well, you can pretty much name it, and someone was complimenting me on it.

  A new school year. The same old pattern.

  I realized years earlier that I could be annoyed by the fact that people were so desperate to be my friend that they’d say anything to make me like them, or I could just shrug it off. I chose to shrug it off. It wasn’t malicious and might not even have been entirely conscious; they just couldn’t separate me from my connection to Luke Weston.

  So I accepted the compliments without believing them and tried to use my social power for good. I wouldn’t be friends with anyone who was mean or cliquish and I rallied people to join the Gay-Straight Alliance and Diversity Council and things like that. Teachers called me a “natural leader,” which only made me realize that the adults were as likely to fawn over me as the kids were. It didn’t go to my head: I knew people weren’t following me because I was so wildly charismatic; they were following me because I was Luke Weston’s stepdaughter and they all wanted to meet him.

  I was most proud of having increased student participation in the Holiday-Giving Program by like tenfold or something ridiculous like that. My freshman year, I signed up to help out with the annual Christmas party at the shelter our school supported, and my closest friends all signed up too. Then the next year, I volunteered to head the gift drive, and got Riley to do it with me—of all my school friends, she was the most organized and reliable.

  Luke and Mom came with me to that year’s Christmas party, which totally freaked people out—everyone who went was giddy with delight at being at the same event as Luke Weston, and everyone who didn’t go regretted it. Junior year, I ran the Christmas party and everyone assumed Luke would show up, so literally half the school signed up to bring presents and help out with games for the kids. Luke actually didn’t come that year—he was in Chicago, shooting a remote segment for the show—but with all the help and donations, we had an incredible party, and I ended up being asked to co-run the entire program with another rising senior named Ben Simmons, who had run that year’s gift drive.

  Ben and I had texted a little over the summer and agreed we’d get together after the first day of school, along with Riley and Skyler, who I’d coaxed into co-running this year’s Christmas party, and a junior named Arianna Hawley, who Ben had put in charge of the gift drive, since she’d helped him the year before.

  Ben took the meeting seriously, which I appreciated. He was there on time, was focused on making a plan, and had some good ideas.

  Ril
ey had briefly had a crush on him in eleventh grade—he was darkly good-looking in a sort of Joaquin Phoenix kind of way—but after she had spent some time with him at a party, she lost interest and said he was boring. He definitely didn’t have much of a sense of humor, which would have been a deal breaker for me in a romance but was fine in someone I only needed to work with. We were pretty efficient as we put together a calendar of deadlines and events based on the previous year’s schedule and this year’s available dates supplied by the vice principal.

  It all went smoothly except for one awkward moment, when Arianna suddenly said, “Oh, I was thinking we should get a celebrity parent to come to the party—I hear that one year Luke Weston showed up and people went nuts. If we could promise that he or someone like that would be there, everyone would sign up. How’d we get him?”

  There was a slight pause and then Riley said, “Um . . . because of Ellie?”

  “Do you know him personally?” Arianna asked me eagerly.

  “He’s her stepfather,” Riley said, and Skyler added, “They live together.”

  “Oh, God.” Arianna’s hand flew to her mouth and she gave a mortified laugh. “I am so sorry, Ellie. I didn’t know. You have a different last name. No one told me,” she added with a glare at Ben.

  “No problem,” I said.

  “Will he come again this year?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll invite him, but his schedule can be kind of crazy.”

  As we were leaving the student center after the meeting, Arianna pulled me aside. “I just want to apologize again,” she said. “I must have sounded like such an idiot.”

  “It’s fine,” I said.

  “I’m really excited to be working on this. Everyone says you’re like the nicest senior girl at the school.”

  I smiled and thanked her, but I felt a little tired.

  She threw her arms around my neck and hugged me good-bye.

  eleven

  Heather said, “I hate reading comprehension! You never have enough time to read the whole thing, and the questions try to trick you every way they can.” It was Sunday and I had invited her to join me for tutoring again. “And I don’t see how you’re supposed to study for it,” she went on. “They’re going to give you completely different passages, so it’s not like you can actually prepare.”