As I handed the phone back to Sadie, it rippled musically with a pop song — and caller ID flashed Mauve’s name.
“Where are you?” Sadie demanded.
“Driving,” Mauve answered, loud enough that I could hear. “Where are you?”
“We made a potty and snack stop.” Sadie told her the exit.
“I’ll meet you there. Lonz and I aren’t that far behind.”
“Behind?” Sadie questioned. “I thought you were miles ahead.”
“We stopped for lunch and … well … let’s just say dessert. Details forthcoming.” Mauve giggled. “See you soon.”
She wasn’t exaggerating. In less than five minutes I heard a car honking and saw Mauve’s pink hair flying up in the air as Alonzo’s convertible screeched into the gas station, burning rubber as it skidded into the parking space beside us.
“Now that’s a ride! My next car is so going to be a convertible!” Mauve cried, reaching up for Alonzo’s hand as he helped her hop out of the car. “I had no idea my trade idea would turn out so thrilling.”
“We’ve had our share of thrills — but not in a good way,” Sadie said ominously.
“Oh?” Mauve asked with a dubious lift of her brow.
Sadie frowned in my direction. “Rayah’s stalker showed up.”
Mauve’s mouth fell open. “I can’t believe I missed all the action! I have to know everything.” She gave Alonzo a hasty kiss good-bye, explaining that this was “Girls Only” and she’d meet up with him later. When she shooed Warren out of her seat, he looked like he wanted to protest but only shrugged, then climbed back in the convertible beside Alonzo. Within minutes they were roaring out of the parking lot, my tension fading with their disappearing tail lights.
“I can’t leave you two alone for a minute!” Mauve complained with a peeved expression as if we’d been having a great time without her. She angled in her seat belt to look at me and demanded to know everything about the stalker.
I really didn’t want to talk about that whole freaky encounter — but there was no ignoring Mauve. I couldn’t stop wondering, worrying, what might have happened if Sadie hadn’t interrupted …
“I cannot believe that bitch followed you all the way here! She’s got to be seriously psycho or high,” Mauve said, shaking her pink head. “Sure you don’t know who she is?”
“I wish I did; then I might know how to stop her.”
“I stopped her,” Sadie said proudly. “I didn’t get a good look at her, but she was scared to get caught. She’s long gone by now. She wouldn’t have the guts to mess with us again.”
I nodded, hoping Sadie was right.
“Too bad I wasn’t here,” Mauve said as she pulled a lip gloss from a small sequined purse and dabbed at her lips. “I would have smacked her so bad she’d never forget.”
“I’ll bet you would.” I gave a faint smile.
“Hey, you know I got your back after all you’ve done for me.” She paused, her toughness softening for a brief moment, revealing a vulnerability I’d never expected to see on Mauve’s face. But then the moment passed, and the don’t-mess-with-me attitude returned. “Anyway, the drama is all over — except for what went on with me and Alonzo.”
“So what did go on?” Sadie asked as she drove out of the parking lot and merged back onto the freeway.
“A lot,” Mauve said with a low whistle. “Did you know he’s a champion surfer and kick boxer? And those aren’t his best talents.”
“Oooh! Dish!” Sadie flipped her turn signal and moved into the fast lane. “Anything I can add to the Layaway List?”
“Well … ” Mauve drawled. “Let’s just say that Alonzo didn’t disappoint.”
She went on to rave about Alonzo’s kissing skills, customized car and tattoos, and about how he was so brilliant he’d been offered an internship in a top law firm. I was skeptical, though, because no guy could be that perfect. Alonzo seemed nice enough, but arrogant, too. The more Mauve described every drama-centric detail, the less I believed even half of it was true.
Still, it was fun to listen.
We were out of the hills now, dipping down into a sprawling metropolis of concrete that stretched on forever with distant towering buildings blending into a gray skyline. Traffic congested; our speed slowed. Sadie didn’t seem bothered by the traffic as she kept pumping Mauve for details about Alonzo. Mauve didn’t hold much back; some of her answers crossed into the realm of Too Much Information. I turned to look out the window, pretending a fascination with LA traffic to hide my reddening cheeks. My body might have been of legal age, but my mind had some catching up to do.
“The ocean!” Sadie shouted suddenly as we left the freeway, pointing to a gap between towering buildings in the far distance. “There it is!”
“I can’t see it.” I pressed my face against the window, squinting at a horizon of drab, cloudless sky.
“Look beyond those buildings.” Mauve pointed.
I’d expected a shade of brilliant blue or green but there was only a gray smudge beyond high-rises. Then I blinked and the gray was gone. Oh well, I’d see the real thing soon enough, I thought with rising excitement.
Mauve pulled out a print-out with directions and told Sadie to keep driving straight for three miles. “Then turn right on Starfish Street and make an immediate left.”
“Are you sure?” Sadie glanced over at the print-out in Mauve’s hands, frowning.
“That’s what the directions say.”
“But that can’t be right. That would take us away from the beach. My cousin Abigail said the condo had a view of the ocean.”
“Haven’t you ever been here before?” I asked.
“Don’t be stupid. You know I can’t stand my cousin. Her side of the family thinks they’re better than the rest of us because they’re rich.” Sadie groaned as she made a right turn. “This can’t be the right street.”
“Unfortunately it is,” Mauve said.
Where are the condos? I wondered, peering out the window at old homes with high porches, rickety steps and fading paint on sagging wood. Junker cars decorated a few dead lawns and I spotted three pit bulls straining at their chains. Yeah, really nice neighborhood — not.
“I am going to kill my cousin,” Sadie growled.
“Me, too — after I kill you for trusting her,” Mauve added.
“Maybe the neighborhood will get better,” I said hopefully.
“It’s getting worse!” Mauve griped. “Sadie! Didn’t you wonder why the cousin you hate would be so generous to you?”
“I was too thrilled by a rent-free beach condo to ask questions. But I should have known it was too good to be true.”
“Look at that dump with all the junk in the driveway. The house is the color of piss and probably smells worse.” Mauve complained.
“Um … that dump is our condo,” Sadie said miserably as she stopped the car in front of a dilapidated, faded-yellow clapboard home. It had a peaked roof with a tiny attic window that seemed like an evil eye warning us to leave now.
“We can’t stay here!” Mauve cried.
“I repeat — I’m going to kill my cousin.”
Disappointment rushed through me in aching waves. I hadn’t realized how much I’d been looking forward to staying by the beach until now. A few hours sunning away my worries in the warm sand would have been wonderful. But we were miles from our beach dreams.
“What do we do now?” Sadie asked, leaning her head against the steering wheel. “It’s not like we can afford anything else — assuming we could find anything good.”
“Never happen,” Mauve agreed. “Even if we had the big bucks for a nice hotel, I’ve heard they’re all booked.”
I glanced over at the black purse that I’d tossed on the seat, and thought of the cash inside. This would be a good time to admit I was flush with funds … but suspicions about where the money came from held me back.
“So we have no choice,” Mauve decided. She opened her car door and gestured for us to follow. “We go inside.”
“Not me,” Sadie said with a shudder. “If I enter that dump, I’ll have to sanitize my whole body.”
“I’m not happy about this either, but it’s either go in or go back to the dorm. We have to make this work,” Mauve said, gritting her teeth as if preparing to go into battle. “If our rooms are dirty, we’ll clean them.”
“I’m used to cleaning big messes,” I said. “I don’t mind hard work.”
“You?” Mauve made a humph sound. “Your side of our room should be condemned. You can’t even find the bed.”
Oops. Brain blunder. For a moment I forgot I was supposed to be Sharayah — not the over-worked, underpaid older sister of toddlers.
“Just because I don’t take the time to clean,” I said defensively, “doesn’t mean I don’t know how.”
“This sucks.” Sadie stared out the window with a woeful expression. “Even if the inside of the house is okay, we can’t move it near the beach. Our week is totally ruined.”
“It will be with that attitude,” Mauve retorted. “We have a place to stay and the ocean isn’t that far. Bitch all you want — but I’m going to have fun — damn it!”
I nodded, feeling like I should applaud, but I settled on a small smile.
Sadie grumbled a little more but then followed us up the rickety steps, to a front door where a doormat said: Home Sweet Hell. How appropriate, I thought as I ducked under a hanging plant, a green vine poking me in the neck. Rubbing my neck, I waited while Sadie pulled a key out of her pocket and jiggled it in a rusty lock.
“Oh, gross!” Sadie covered her mouth as we stepped into a cluttered living room that smelled like spoiled food and stinky feet.
There were no carpets, only a few stained throw rugs on scuffed wood. Random furniture crowded into the small room: an oval, dark-wood coffee table covered with dirty plates and dishes, a saggy green couch, and four mismatched, worn recliners all facing a large flat-screen TV. Piles of papers filled one corner, a few sad plants wilted on a window shelf, boxes of all sizes were crammed in every empty space, and nearby on the wall, hung crookedly, was a calendar from 1982. Behind a leaning tower of boxes, I spotted a small Christmas tree with several unopened presents — as if time and housekeeping had left this room untouched.
“Still think we can stay here?” Sadie asked sarcastically.
“Well … ” Mauve stared around, at a loss for words.
“What’s that smell?” I asked, puckering my nose.
“Something died, I think, under those boxes,” Sadie said with disgust. “I’m not staying long enough to find out. There’s dust on the dust and all that’s holding that window together is duct tape. Civilized people cannot live like this.”
“Are you sure we have the right house?” I asked.
“Yeah — the key did open the lock. Besides, I recognize that picture.” Sadie pointed to a framed photo besides one of the dying plants, of a girl with long dark hair and thick brown glasses. “That’s Abigail — before her laser surgery fixed her eyes and she dyed her hair blond. When I see her, I’m going to grab that blond hair and twist—”
We couldn’t get out of the “crappo” house fast enough.
Driving to the ocean didn’t take long — the real challenge was finding a place to park. We drove in circles until we finally dove into a spot just as a SUV was leaving. Then we made our way down steep wooden steps onto a grainy carpet of sand that stretched across a vast beach to the emerald-blue ocean. It was a clear day, the sea calm and a sweet breeze cooling us.
But the action on the beach was the opposite of calm. Sand stretched as far as I could see, congested like a highway but jam-packed with bodies rather than cars. People littered the beach with blankets, chairs, coolers and shady umbrellas. It wasn’t a hot day — the temperature was only in the mid-70s — yet a lot of sunbathers were wearing bikinis. They were stretched out on blankets, playing volleyball and chasing waves. I could taste salty air mingling with the scent of coconut suntan lotion.
“Now this is more like it,” Mauve said with a satisfied sigh. Sadie and I nodded in agreement as we looked around the beach.
We hadn’t bothered to change our clothes, so we were still wearing T-shirts and jeans. I found a blanket in the car trunk and spread it out on the sand. But I was the only one who sat down. Immediately, I found out we had different definitions of beach fun.
“I spy cute volleyball players,” Mauve said with the same wicked light I’d seen in her eyes right before she’d traded herself into Alonzo’s car. “Anyone up for some volleyball?”
“Not me,” Sadie said. “I want to check out the boutiques.”
“Boutiques?” Mauve grimaced at the tacky tourist stores and wild assortment of street performers that lined the narrow road beyond the bike path. “Aren’t you ever too tired for shopping?”
“Me? Never!” Sadie said with a laugh.
Both invited me to go with them, but having no idea if the real Sharayah would choose shopping or volleyball, I stayed on the beach. Intoxicated by the peaceful lull of ocean, I just wanted to soak in the sun and surf. Tomorrow I’d figure out a way to get to the Voice Choice audition — but for now, this beach was my heaven.
I sank down on the blanket, kicking off my shoes and dangling my toes into the sand: gritty and dry on top, but cool and damp down deeper. Closing my eyes, I luxuriated in the feeling of soft wind and sunshine. The sounds of voices drifted away and I felt myself drifting, too, mesmerized by the steady beat of the ocean’s force, the rise and fall of waves lulling me into sleep.
And I dreamed of Gabe.