She suddenly felt sad for her little brother, Bob, who'd been born here. She missed him achingly as she thought of him, -with his baby teeth and his round head. He wouldn't have any of those things buried in his memory. He'd never had a mango tree outside his front door, only a carpeted hallway and two elevators.
Nicky and Katherine Rollins and Polly's body were playing pick- up sticks on the sunny carpet in the front hall of the Rollinses’ overcooled house. Polly's mind had picked itself up and floated to its spot by the ceiling.
She was a better babysitter, she knew, when her mind stayed in her body, but she couldn't make it stay today.
Today she imagined herself not as the hungry, goose-bumpy girl on the carpet below, but flattened into the pages of a magazine. She imagined her face in an ad for lip gloss or antiperspirant. But she imagined an altered version, a better, Photoshopped version of her face, with straighter teeth and knowing eyes.
She pictured piles and piles of the magazine with her face in it sitting in a warehouse. She imagined them getting tied up into blocks and trucked all over the country. She imagined them in the hold of a freight plane, going to other parts of the world. She imagined herself existing a little in every one of the magazines, bits of herself distributed to all the places the plane went.
She imagined appearing before the eyes of all the people who turned to her page—readers looking at her and her looking back at them. She imagined being seen and getting to see all the people she'd ever known and would someday know and even people she didn't know but wanted to know, like her father, for example. What if her father saw her there? Would he know her if he saw her? Would he think for a moment that he was looking at his own mother -when she was young?
You could see so much more of the world when you were flat than -when you were full. You could be in so many more places when you were weightless than -when you -were heavy. I'd like to be two- dimensional, she thought. That was what models got to be.
“Do you guys have plans for tonight?” Jo asked Megan as she brought an armful of menus back to the hostess station.
Megan looked tentative as she stacked the menus on the shelf. “Waitresses’ night out,” she explained apologetically. “Effie organized it.”
“Well, my mom is away tonight. My house is totally empty. You guys should come over.” Jo was surprised at how quickly and eagerly she played her trump card.
Megan looked sorry. “I don't know, Jo. I think Effie had something else in mind.”
“We've got a lot of chips and stuff. My mom and I went to Costco over the weekend. We could invite the boys, too. And I shouldn't really say this, but”—Jo dropped her voice—”the liquor cabinet is full.”
The part of Jo's brain that wasn't talking -was -wondering why in the world she was saying the things she was saying. Her mom -would find out if she had a bunch of people over and raided the liquor cabinet. She had never done anything like that before and she -would get in huge trouble. Why -was she offering it?
“Jo.” Megan looked pained. “Maybe another time. Effie said no bussers. I didn't make the plans.”
“I've hung out -with you guys a ton of times this summer. Can't you tell Effie that?”
Megan made a face, and Jo -wasn't sure she -wanted to try to interpret it.
It had to do -with Zach, she knew. Zach -was in large part the secret of Jo's social success this summer, and now that Effie -was back and claiming him, Jo had become controversial. No one seemed to -want to look at her or talk to her today. She -was to be avoided. And Zach -was avoiding her too.
Why -were they all -willing to side -with Effie right away? Jo -was the one -who had been around all summer. Did they all know that she and Zach had made out many times? That it -was more than just a flirtation? She had as much of a claim on him as Effie did, if not more.
It -was almost like everyone -was scared of Effie, but Jo wasn't going along -with that. She was not scared of Effie. Let Effie be scared of her.
The last table cleared out by ten, seeming to know how little Jo wanted to get home. She watched the waitresses leave, all dressed up and made up. Overnight, Effie had become their ringleader, and apparently she was more hierarchical than the rest of them.
Jo couldn't go home to her empty house with nothing to do. She didn't want to call Bryn. She wished she could call Polly, but she'd been horrible to Polly. She was too guilt-ridden from not calling her dad to call her dad.
“I don't understand why you haven't called him,” her mother had said to her before she left for Baltimore that morning.
“He can call me if he wants to talk,” Jo had responded.
“Maybe he's concerned about having to talk to me in order to talk to you,” her mother suggested. It was an honest and reasonable thing to consider.
“Maybe he could call my cell phone.”
“Maybe dads don't understand about cell phones.”
That was true in her dad's case. He carried a pager. He probably didn't even know her number.
Jo sat in the quiet back office for a while. She wondered what Ama was doing at that moment. Even after everything, she knew Ama would listen to her tale of woe and not sound happy about it. Ama was the kind of friend who was sad if you were sad. But she couldn't call Ama on her -wilderness trip.
Jo decided on impulse to write a letter to Ama on the back of a paper children's menu. She didn't write about the restaurant or about Zach, but she did tell Ama about her parents. “They say it's a trial separation, but I have a feeling they are going to be pretty good at it. They've been practicing for a long time.” At the end of the letter she wrote, “Enjoy the maze and word search.” She stole an envelope from Jordan's desk—along -with his two boxes of Tic Tacs—and addressed it to Amas house, knowing Amas mother -would get it to her.
Hidalgo brought her some crab bisque -with extra packets of the little round crackers.
“Thanks,” she said to him, and tried to smile. “Gracias.” She felt like she might cry and she -wasn't even sure -where it -was coming from.
She -wished she had called Polly the same afternoon she'd left. She -wished she'd kept calling her until she'd reached her and apologized right away. She -wished she had sent her a care package of chocolate chip cookies. She -wished she could erase the -words that she had said to Bryn that day. But Polly practically had a tape recorder in her ear. Though Polly might forgive her, there -was no -way she -would forget.
At last Jo set out for home.
“Goldie.”
Zach surprised her on the boardwalk.
Her heart surged at the sight of him. She couldn't help herself. “Hi,” she said.
“What's up?”
I'm supposed to be mad at you, she told him in her mind. You're a skank. So why was she so happy? “I'm just heading home,” she said.
He checked the time on his cell phone. “You've got twenty- five minutes until your curfew.”
She was flattered that he still knew it. It's only been a few days! Why wouldn't he know it? she scolded herself.
“Can I -walk you home on the beach?” he asked her.
“Don't you have a girlfriend?” she said. She meant it to sound pointed and mischievous, but it just sounded like a regular question.
He started walking anyway, and she went along behind him. “We're just walking,” she added, quickening her step to catch his.
“You make it sound like I'm married or something,” Zach said, grabbing her hand and swinging it. “Trust me, I'm not.”
That shouldn't be good enough, said a voice in her head that sounded like Amas.
You shouldn't trust him about anything. He doesn't deserve you, a voice like Polly's piped up.
But Jo didn't take her hand back. On the first night, Zach had told her she had strong hands. She still wanted to believe in him.
Believing in him shouldn't take this much effort, Ama told her.
Shut up, you guys! she said to Ama and Polly.
Instead of leading her down to the water, as he
usually did, he led her up toward the lights of the boardwalk. She was surprised that he wanted to go back up onto the boardwalk, but it turned out he didn't. He led her underneath, to where it was dark and slightly drippy. Even the quality of the sand was different under here.
“Hey, Goldie?”
“Yeah.”
“I think about you all day long.”
When you aren't making out with Effie. That was what she should have said. But she didn't. She craved his attention so much it scared her a little. His eyes were on her and only her now, and she didn't want to challenge him or ruin it.
When he grabbed her free hand and held both of them, she let him. He was so dazzling to look at. He had a regular flush in his cheeks under his tan, giving his face more innocence than he deserved. He had a reckless and joyful expression that he wore nearly all the time. His posture was loose and his confidence was intoxicating.
She thought of ways to deflect his kiss, but she mostly hoped it would come. She would take what he offered. She couldn't help it. She wanted to be here and now and nowhere else. She didn't want to have to think.
He leaned in and kissed her. She made no effort to fend him off. He put his arms around her, his hands on her back, pushing her chest against his. She kissed him back. She stopped thinking altogether.
She felt his hands under her shirt, warm palms on her bare back. Her heart was pounding. Don't make me think, she told him in her mind. Don't make me talk. I don't know how to say no right now.
It wasn't Zach or his creeping hands that made her have to think. It was the sound of a shout and of powdery footsteps on the sand nearby.
She looked up, forced from her dream in jarring fashion. There was one girl nearby looking at them and three more farther away.
Zach let go of Jo and pulled away.
Jo recognized the face. It was Violet. She got close enough to let them see it was her and then scampered back to the group. Effie was there, Jo could see that clearly now. Megan and Sheba, too. All the girls were looking at Jo and Zach, now standing several feet apart.
Jo felt a cold, flat drip on the top of her head and it seemed to wake her up. God. What was she thinking? The two of them under the boardwalk. How tacky could you get?
Jo knew, instinctively and ominously, that for a girl like Effie, it was much -worse discovering Jo and Zach at the same moment as her friends. There was no way for Effie to spin it or dodge it or gain some feeling of power over it. There was no way for her to save face, to make them all believe that Zach really did love her the best.
If Jo had doubted Zach -when he said Effie wasn't his girlfriend before, she doubted him even more now. All the joy and the mischief were gone.
“I'm going to go,” Jo said quietly to Zach. Under the gaze of many eyes, she pulled herself together and walked home.
She felt empty. She felt like she'd been scrounging crumbs off a dirty floor, -wanting to believe she -was getting a full meal. She felt like she hadn't truly eaten in many days.
She -wished she could make her sadness go back-ward or even forward, to look back on it or postpone it, but it -was here and now. How depressing of her to debase herself like that. How sad of her to try to find happiness in so little.
“Maman?”
“Ama?”
“Yes, it's me.”
“What now? Are you all right?”
“Yes. I'm fine.” Her voice -was so much calmer this time. “Maureen let me call on the satellite phone.”
“Where are you? You should be on your -way to the airport, I think. No?”
“We're still in Yosemite. Maman?”
“Yes?”
“I don't think I'm coming back tonight.”
“Ama! Pourquoi pas? Est-ce qu'ily a un problème? They will drive you, won't they? The flight is confirmed.”
“Yes. I know. They will drive me. But I think I should stay.”
“Ama! Why?”
Ama was quiet for a minute. She was glad she was standing in a spot all by herself. “Because I think I should stay and finish.”
“Ama, you don't owe them anything. You can do exactly what you want.”
“I know. You're right. I guess … I -want to.”
“You want to? You said you hated it.”
Ama sighed. “You're right. I know. I don't know how much I -want to. There's one part of it—the rappel—that I'm dreading. But I feel like I should stay. Not because of them or you, because of me. Do you see what I mean? I think I'll be happier -with myself if I stay.” Ama thought of Polly's words, and how she had wanted them to be wrong.
“Are the group leaders telling you to stay?” her mother asked.
“No, Maman, they're not. I'm choosing.”
“You're sure?”
“Yes.” She looked down at her boots. “It's really beautiful here, you know.”
“Is it?”
“It really is. It reminds me a little bit of Kumasi.”
“Does it.” That struck her mother silent for a moment.
After she'd said her good-byes and hung up the phone, Ama realized how much easier it was to stay now that she was allowed to go.
Jo got a text message from Bryn fifteen minutes before the lunch shift the next morning.
if i were u i wld call in sick
Jo had been planning to call in sick. She was still in her pajamas, in fact. She'd already made a few significant coughs in the kitchen in an attempt to convince herself and any neighbors who happened to see or hear her.
But now, staring at this message, she had to rethink it.
Everyone knew. Everyone. If anyone didn't know, Bryn would tell them. Probably even Hidalgo knew. Everyone was talking about it, and the shift hadn't even started yet.
What would Zach do?
She went to her room. She'd have to get dressed quickly. Maybe she was a hoochie girl and public enemy number one at the Surfside, but she wasn't a coward. She'd wear her scarlet A to work if she had to, but she would go. The fact that everybody already knew was strangely liberating.
Bryn -was the first to see her -when she walked through the door. She materialized by Jo's side in an instant.
“Did you get my message?” she asked urgently, under her breath.
Jo nodded.
“Then -what are you doing here?” Bryn -was barely breathing. This was the drama of the summer, and Bryn was clearly proud to play a role in it.
“What am I supposed to do? Call in sick for the rest of August?” Jo didn't bother to whisper in return.
“Violet says Effie is ready to kill. That's all I'm saying,” Bryn hissed.
“If she kills me, there will be a lot of witnesses,” Jo said. Part of being miserable was not caring as much -what happened to you or -who said what.
“Sorry, Jo, but you're crazy.”
“Thanks for looking out for me,” Jo said.
Jo put her stuff in her locker at the back of the restaurant and pulled her apron over her head. She saw Jordan as she passed by the office. She hoped he would put her on flatware, as he liked to do, but he seemed to sense that it would bring her relief today.
“You're on the floor today, Joseph,” he barked at her. “Section one.”
Jo hesitated for a moment. She cleared her throat. “Is Zach on?” she asked.
Jordan gave her a look. Even he knew. “He called in sick,” he said.
Coward, Jo thought. She could hardly picture his face the way she had the day before. She wanted him to be somebody important, somebody whose love could change everything, but she couldn't make him be that today.
As she walked into the dining room she had a premonition that Jordan understood the -workings of her misery more deeply than she had guessed. She suddenly knew -who the lead waitress in section one would be without even needing to look. She wondered if he'd somehow found out about the Tic Tacs.
She saw Effie standing across the way in section one. Megan -was there in section three. Violet was at the hostess station. Jo looked from one to the oth
er. How bad is it? she wanted to ask Megan or Violet with her eyes, but neither of them looked back. Scott didn't look at her either, but he passed by humming “Under the Boardwalk.”
Boy, you had to kiss another girl's boyfriend to know who your real friends were. In her case, that was no one.
It turned out there was one person -who was –willing to look at her. One person, and unfortunately that person -was Effie. The look -was not pretty and it was not friendly.
Jo half considered going right up to Effie and apologizing. But what would she say, exactly? It hadn't been an accident or a mistake. Jo could sincerely pledge that she wouldn't do it again, but it was a bit late for that. She couldn't make Zach like Effie better, or make Effie care about him less. Zach's was the apology that could matter, and Jo couldn't give her that.
Anyway, the force field around Effie was so dark and scary, Jo couldn't get near enough to try.
“Bitch,” Effie hissed at Jo as she strode by her to the kitchen.
Jo felt her cheeks reddening as she stood in place. She looked down at the vomit- brown carpet and up again. Still, no one dared look at her. She forcefully blinked back tears and went to the nearest waitress station to begin filling baskets with bread.
“I bet my tips are going to be terrible today,” she said to Bryn as she went by, trying to sound light, but even Bryn had ceased speaking to her.
Jo didn't consider entering the staff room for lunch. She ate lunch in the kitchen -with Carlos and Hidalgo. She was so grateful to them for talking -with her, even if it was in Spanish. She used her halting Spanish to ask Hidalgo about his daughter. She brought them each two miniature candy bars after the rush resumed.