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Excerpt from Ten Things We Did (And Probably Shouldn’t Have)

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“Sunblock?” Liz asks me.

“Check!”

“Sun hat?”

“Check!”

“Sunglasses?”

I point to the pair perched on my head. “I’m ready. Can we go?”

“Bikini?”

“Um…”

“Kristin, you are wearing the new blue bikini we bought you last week?”

“Well…”

She leans across her twin bed, lifts up my shirt, and gasps. “No. You are not wearing that hideous brown one-piece. You are not allowed to wear anything that you bought before you met me, okay?” Liz is already clad in a tiny white bikini, if you can call what looks like two pieces of string holding up three triangles a bikini.

“But I’m going to burn,” I whine.

“You will not. That’s why we bought SPF 100 or whatever. Don’t be a baby. Put on your new suit so we can hit the deck already.”

I feel queasy—and it’s not because I’m stuck in a cramped cabin on a cruise ship. Although I’m sure that’s not helping.

I am excited to be here—of course I am—but I’m a little nervous. I’ve never been on a cruise before. What if I get seasick? The boat hasn’t even left port yet and already it’s kind of swaying from side to side like a slightly drunk rocking chair. What if it leans in a crazy angle and I fall off? What if it slams into an iceberg and we plummet to the bottom of the ocean?

Even the name of it—the Cruise to Nowhere—sounds spooky. Supposedly they call it that because we’re not headed anywhere specific; we’re going to float around international waters for three days and three nights and then zip back to New York. But still. It sounds ominous. If I was in charge of the marketing, I’d call it Sea Wanderer or Ocean Extravaganza, or something that doesn’t scream Dead End.

But that’s just me.

Okay, I’m not just nervous about falling off the boat.

I’m really nervous because . . . All right, I’ll say it. On this trip, this Cruise to Nowhere, I have a goal. I am going to do it.

Yes. It’s time. My first time.

Ack. I can’t believe I’m going to do it.

“Are you sure about the bikini?” I ask now, self-conscious. I don’t bother looking at myself in the mirror. I already know what I look like. Medium boobs, shoulder-length brown hair, not too big, not too small. Just call me Goldilocks. Average, average, average. My eyes are cool, though. I’ll admit that. They’re kind of green and brown and blue. Swirly.

“Kristin, if you wear that hideous one-piece there is a zero percent chance you’ll pick someone up. Less than zero. Minus one.”

See that’s the other thing. I don’t actually have a candidate in mind for the big event. First step: find guy. Second: reel him in. Third: do it.

No pressure or anything. I take a deep breath.

Except what guy will give me a second look with Liz lying on a pool chair by my side? Liz, with her white string bikini, waist-length wavy red hair, and legs that are longer than my entire body. She’s the Little Mermaid come to life. I bet she’d be fine if the boat pulled a Titanic. She’d toss her hair and twelve guys would give up their life rafts to save her.

I unzip my bag. “All right, I’ll change.”

“Hurry up. I want to be there when the boat—”

Before she finishes her sentence, the floor beneath us shifts. I look out through the window and over our balcony and see the pier drifting away.

My knees are shaking. Is this what they call sea legs? Or maybe I’m just nervous about what’s to come. . . .

According to the map in our room, this boat has twelve floors. Twelve floors! How crazy is that? Maybe boats aren’t as bad as I thought. In fact, maybe I’ll move in forever. There’s a spa, a hair salon, a gym, a library, a gazillion rooms, a dozen restaurants. Four pools. What else do you need?

There’s already a girl about our age on the elevator when we step on. She’s blond and tiny, and her skin is flushed red, like it’s just been scrubbed.

“Hi,” Liz says with a big smile. “Are you going to the pool on level twelve?”

Liz talks to everyone. She has no fear. I, on the other hand, feel like I’ve swallowed a hundred butterflies when I have to talk to a stranger.

The girl nods. “Yup. Level twelve is supposed to be the best one. It’s all outside. And I need to start tanning immediately.”

“I’m pretty pale too,” Liz says. “So what do you think of the ship?”

“Nice. It’s my first cruise.”

“Mine too,” I blurt. It wouldn’t hurt to be a bit more fearless.

“Are you here with your family?” Liz asks.

The girl plays with the ends of her blond ponytail. “Yeah. I’m here with my insane mother. She’s already taken practically a bottle of Vicodin and passed out. She’ll probably sleep through the entire four days. She was supposed to be on this cruise with her new boyfriend but he dumped her last week. Not that I blame him.”

Well. That was a lot of info. Liz and I give each other a look, but then turn back to the girl. “At least you got a cruise out of it,” I say.

She snorts. “Lucky me. It’s a crappy time to go on a cruise. Did you guys read the National Eagle this week?”

Liz shakes her head dismissively. “I don’t read tabloids.”

Me neither. Fine, sometimes I do. “Why? What does it say?”

“Do you scare easily?” she asks.

“Yes.”

“Then I probably shouldn’t tell you.”

The doors slide open. Ow. Majorly bright. Good thing I have my anti-UV, anti-glare, anti-any-light-getting-through-these-suckers glasses. Must protect my best asset. I slide my sunglasses over my eyes and adjust my cute new straw hat.

We survey the scene. There’s a huge rectangular sparkling pool, two kitschy thatched-roof bars, and a poolside terrace restaurant. The deck is packed with people. “How about over by the deep end?” I ask, pointing to a bunch of empty blue and white striped lounge chairs.

“Come sit with us,” Liz tells the new girl.

“Thanks,” she says, smiling. “If you’re sure you don’t mind. I’m Hailey.”

We introduce ourselves as Liz swipes three pale peach beach towels from a bin and claims the empty chairs.

I dump the bag between us, open the umbrella by my chair, and spread out my towel.

“So are you guys here with your parents?” Hailey asks, hunting through her bag. She pulls out a pair of oversize sunglasses and the National Eagle. I can’t help but wonder what the so-called story is about. Do I want to know?

“Just us,” Liz says, lying back in her chair.

“Wow. Are you guys sisters?” Hailey asks.

“Kind of,” Liz says.

I laugh. “In spirit at least.”

“Was this a graduation present or something?”

“Exactly,” Liz says.

“Lucky you.”

Not yet, but I plan to be. Except what’s the big scary story Hailey isn’t telling? “So tell us what’s in the paper about cruise ships.”

“I’ll tell you, but don’t blame me if you can’t fall asleep tonight. It says, ‘Vampires Attack Cruise Ships.’ Isn’t that insane?”

“Yes,” I say. The boat sways slightly, and my stomach clenches.

“I know, right?”

Liz snorts. “Hello, it’s the Eagle people. It’s worse than the Enquirer. It’s not real.”

“It could be,” Hailey says.

I sit up in my seat. “Wait, what exactly does it say?”

“That people have gone missing from cruise boats in the last six months. They’re blaming vampires.”

“Um, do they know there’s no such thing as vampires?” I ask.

“Apparently not.”

I shake my head. “The Eagle must be having serious circulation issues.”

“You never know,” Liz says. “Maybe vampires are killing people on cruise ships. Who’s to say what’s real and what’s not?”

I lightly kick the back of her leg. “Or maybe some psycho robs a girl who had too many vodka tonics and then shoves her overboard before anyone notices she’s missing,” I say.

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Hailey says, flipping through the newspaper.

“Or Bloody Marys,” Liz jokes.

“I heard that happens way more than they report. It’s because of the international-waters thing. It’s harder to prosecute the criminals,” Hailey explains.

“Or find the bodies,” Liz adds.

“Scary,” I say, shivering. I wrap the end of the towel around my arms.

Hailey’s eyes are wide. “I’m not walking around at night, I can promise you that.”

“We’ll keep the bad guys away,” Liz pledges, and then flips onto her stomach.

I close my eyes. Rest time.

Ahhhh. The ocean breeze in my hair, the water roaring by, the sun glittering around me. Lovely. Perfect.

I’m just about to drift off when a shadow crosses my path.

I open one eye to see what’s going on and the other one promptly pops open.

Hi there.

It’s a guy. A cute guy, my age, maybe seventeen. Standing between my recently pedicured feet and the pool. He’s wearing checkered black and gray bathing trunks, has cropped blond hair, and sexy sculpted arms.

Could he be the one?

With a smooth motion he dives into the water, leaving my side without even a splash to cool me down.

Where’s he going? Come back, Checker Boy, come back!

“Dive in,” Liz tells me, pushing herself up on her elbows.

“What?” I ask, slightly panicked.

“You like him, don’t you? He’s kind of yummy-looking, huh?”

“Ick. I don’t even know him!” I say.

“You like what you see, right?”

“I guess,” I say.

“Then dive in.”

I hesitate. What if when I dive in I swallow a couple hundred gallons of chlorinated water and then lose my bikini top?

“If you want someone, you have to go after him.”

“I know, but…”

Hailey looks up from her paper and eyes Checker Boy in the pool now doing laps. “He is cute, Kristin,” she says. “Go for it.”

Liz smiles at me as if to say, “See, even the girl we just met thinks you should.”

I sigh. She’s right. I know she’s right. Unlike me she knows what she’s doing. Unlike me she’s done this before. Many, many times.

But…I don’t want to look like an idiot. What if he blows me off? What if he has a girlfriend? What if he has a wife? What if he has children? Okay, he looks a little young to have a wife and children, but what if—

Liz sighs. “Kristin, watch how it’s done.” In a fluid motion she removes her sunglasses, wrap, and iPod and dives, rippleless, into the deep end.

She surfaces like a supermodel, hair glistening and shoulders pulled back to show off her oh-so-tiny bikini top. She is directly blocking Checker Boy’s path.

He swims right into her. He pulls his head back, treading water and coughing.

“So sorry,” Liz purrs. “Do you need mouth-to-mouth?”

Hailey laughs.

The look on Checker Boy’s face says he would love some mouth-to-mouth, thank you very much. “Sorry about that,” he says. “I have to learn to look where I’m going.”

“I don’t know if I can accept your apology,” she drawls. “You may have to buy me a drink to make it up to me.”

“I’ll do whatever it takes,” Checker Boy says, eyes blinking rapidly, not believing his luck. They swim toward the pool bar.

“Wow,” Hailey says.

“She’s a master,” I respond.

“But she’s not twenty-one! How can she drink?”

“She has her ways.”

“She stole your guy. You should have called dibs.”

I shrug. “There are other fish on the boat.”

An hour later Liz sashays back to our chairs.

“What’s he like?” I ask.

She runs her fingers through her damp hair. “Who, Jarred? Not bad. He offered to buy me lunch. I told him we’d catch up with him later maybe.”

“Does he have any cute friends?” Hailey asks.

“I didn’t ask, but this one’s our priority this weekend,” Liz says, pointing to me. “She needs to take care of a problem.”

“What kind of problem?”

My face heats up, and it’s not from the sun.

“Her virginity,” Liz says with a half smile.

“Oh, don’t do it,” Hailey says. “I wish I would have waited. I lost it last fall, beginning of junior year, to a total idiot. He told the entire school.”

“Jerk,” I say.

“So trust me, don’t rush,” she says. “Wait for someone you’re madly in love with.”

“Do not listen to her,” Liz says. “It will be too scary to do it with someone you’re madly in love with.”

“Maybe,” Hailey says, hesitating. “At least if you do it with some random stranger, it won’t matter who he tells. It’s not like you’ll know the same people. Have you ever come close to losing it?”

“Once,” I admit.

“What happened?”

I hesitate. “It was with a guy named Tom. I thought it was going to happen. I was in his room. His parents weren’t home. And I was just about to when…”

“When what?”

“I chickened out,” I admit. “And bolted.”

“He must have loved that.” Hailey laughs.

“I’m sure he got over it,” I say. Not that I ever saw him again. Better off for both of us, I’d say.

“What about you?” Hailey asks Liz. “When did you lose it?”

She shakes her head. “It feels like forever ago.” She shrugs. “Who can remember?”

Hailey stretches her arms above her head. “I should probably go check on my mom. Make sure she hasn’t thrown herself off the side of the boat.”

“Or gotten attacked by vampires,” Liz says, winking.

Hailey laughs. “Will you guys be around later?”

“Yup,” I say.

“Cool.”

“We’ll be at the casino,” Liz says, reclining in her seat again. “Meet us at nine.”

“Great. Thanks.”

“Wait, Hailey?” I ask. “Are you finished with the Eagle?”

“Yup. You want it?”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.”

She tosses it on my chair. “Enjoy.”

Liz snickers as I open the paper.

“It’s not funny,” I say, reading the details. “It says there have been seven disappearances on six different cruise ships in the past year. Two people were found in the water, drained of blood. Drained of blood! Aren’t you even a little bit worried?”

“Gimme a break. It’s the Eagle. Hello, there’s no such thing as vampires, remember? Anyway, you’re transferring your anxiety from what you’re really afraid of.”

“And what’s that?”

She gives me a knowing look. “You know. Losing it.”

“Thank you, Dr. Laura. But I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” I flip over in my lounge chair, turning my back to her.

“Are you hungry?” she asks a few minutes later.

“No,” I say, still mad.

“Stop being a baby,” she says. “I’m starving. I’ll get us something to eat. Let me find Jarred.”

“Hailey says I should have called dibs.”

“Hey, he’s all yours if you want him,” she offers.

“No, you go ahead. I don’t want your charity. I’ll find my own guy.” I take a deep breath of ocean air. “Promise.”

Liz and I meet Hailey at the casino later that night, by a James Bond slot machine. If I put in a quarter, will a gorgeous spy pop out?

“You two look amazing,” Hailey says.

“So do you,” I say. She does look very pretty in a simple black cotton dress.

“Oh, please, you guys look like you’re going to a Manhattan gala, and I look like I’m going to a school dance.” She admires the purple strapless dress Liz forced me into and Liz’s glamorous backless red sheath. “Can I come raid your closet?”

“Anytime,” Liz says, fixing the strap on her shoe. “And you smell great. What perfume is that?”

Hailey smiles. “Thanks! It’s called Parfum de Vie.”

“Very yummy.”

“How’s your mom?” I ask.

“Passed out. So pathetic.” She rolls her eyes and straightens her shoulders. “What do you wanna do? Gamble? Scope the scene? Find cute boys? Slay vampires?”

“I’m up for the first two,” Liz says, and scans the room. “Let’s start at the bar.”

When we make our way over, a much older but still very hot bartender asks us what we’d like to drink. Liz purrs her order over the bar, showing extra cleavage.

She turns back to us and murmurs, “Dibs.”

“He’s old enough to be your father,” Hailey says.

“I like mature men. They smell better. Like fine wine.” She lifts her glass to ours and we clink.

As I lower my glass, I spot him.

The one.

I know right away. He’s it. He’s perfect.

Standing by the blackjack table.

If I thought Checker Boy was cute, this guy is a whole other level of cute. The level twelve of cute. He’s gorgeous. Tall, shiny dark hair, sculpted cheekbones, shoulders like a quarterback’s. Unlike Mr. Bartender he can’t be more than twenty-two. And he’s wearing a tux.

Seriously.

Who needs a quarter? I just found my very own James Bond. An old-school, dark-haired one too. Go me.

“Dibs,” I whisper.

Liz squeezes my shoulder. “Good call.”

“I’m in love,” I say.

“I can see that,” she says. “Wipe your chin. You drooled.”

“Where, where? Show me him!” Hailey says, jumping in place.

“Don’t be too obvious,” I warn her, flipping my hair in my most nonchalant way. “Look over at the blackjack table.”

She oh-so-casually spins a hundred and eighty degrees. “Ooooh. He’s hot. Go for him!”

I fidget with my dress. “How? What do I do?”

Hailey turns to Liz. “Yeah, tell us what to do. How did you know what to do to get that swimmer at the pool? Where is he anyway? Are you meeting up with him?”

Liz shrugs. “Nah. It’s over. He was boring.”

Hailey laughs. “I guess you already found someone new. Tell us your secrets so we can follow in your footsteps, will you?

She motions us closer. “It’s all about the attitude. He should know that you think you’re all that. If you think you’re all that, he’ll think you’re all that. But being all that doesn’t mean ‘I’m better than you.’ It means, ‘I’m fantabulous and you seem like you are too, so maybe we deserve each other.’”

“Fantabulous?” I repeat.

“Yes.” She nods emphatically. “Absolutely fantabulous.”

“I can do that,” Hailey says. “I can be absolutely fantabulous. What else?”

“That’s it.”

“That’s all it takes to find a boyfriend?” Hailey asks.

Liz grins. “Boyfriend? Who wants a boyfriend? That was how to score a hook-up.” She rubs my shoulders again. “So are you ready?”

“Yes,” I say while shaking my head no.

“Go play next to him. There’s a seat open.”

“But I don’t know how,” I whimper.

She tosses me a black chip. “Aim for twenty-one.”

“Er, twenty-one what?”

When she laughs, I take a deep breath and head over to the empty stool. I can do this. “This seat taken?” I ask in an unfortunately nasal voice.

He tilts his head to the side and gives me a blinding smile. “Nope. All yours.”

I gingerly place one chip on the felt table.

“Having a good night?” I ask, attempting to sound a wee bit more sophisticated and seductive. In other words I sound like I have strep.

“Yeah. My friend just got married in the dining room,” he says. “I was all danced out, so I snuck in here for a break.”

That explains the tux. “Fantabulous,” I say.

“Sorry?”

“Oh, um…happy wedding. You look too young to have a friend getting married.”

“Oh, he’s crazy. College buddy. You know how it is. What college do you go to?”

“NYU,” I lie instantly. Why not? It’s not like he’ll ever know the difference.

He nods, buying it. “I’m at Penn. Hey,” he says, leaning closer to me and putting his hand on my arm.

A jolt of static runs through my body. He’s so close I can smell the aftershave on his neck.

“You have the coolest eyes,” he says slowly as I watch his mouth forming the words.

“Thanks,” I say, barely breathing.

The dealer interrupts us by distributing two rounds of cards to the four of us at his table.

James Bond lets go of my arm and settles back onto his seat.

Sigh.

I stare down at my cards. An eight and a jack. I have no idea what that means. I try to smile at James, but he seems to be over me and my eyes and is now enthralled by his cards.

“Miss?” the dealer asks me.

“Yes?” I ask back.

“What would you like to do?”

I look at my hand. I have no idea. “Get a card?”

Mr. Bond looks at me in shock. “What? Why?”

Too late. The dealer hands me the four of spades and declares me out.

Whoops.

Not feeling that fantabulous right now. More like moronic.

“What happened?” Liz cries when I return empty-handed in all senses of the word. No chips, no boy.

“I lost all my chips. I had no idea what I was doing!”

“Why didn’t you ask him for help?”

“How does one ask for help when one is trying to appear fantabulous?”

She tosses her hair behind her shoulder. “You can still be fantabulous and not know how to play blackjack.”

“Well, the dealer got an ace and a jack so apparently he won. And before—”

Liz squeezes my arm. “But what happened to the boy?”

I sigh. “He said he’d see me around and disappeared. I give up. I’m going to watch TV in bed.”

Liz adjusts her dress. “I’m going to hang out with the bartender. Guess I can’t take him back to our room, then.”

“Sorry.”

“No problem. I’ll find somewhere to go.”

“Avoid the deck,” Hailey tells her.

Liz winks. “Don’t wait up.”

“She’s a master,” Hailey says, and gives Liz a small bow.

And I’m the worst pupil ever.

“Why isn’t he here?” I wonder out loud.

Liz yawns. “Because it’s nine A.M. Did we really have to get here this early? We’re the only ones at the pool.”

“I don’t want him to disappear again.”

“It’s not like he has anywhere to go. He’s kind of boat-locked.”

“As long as a vampire doesn’t get him and throw him overboard,” I say, and stretch my legs out in front of me. “Hailey is meeting us around eleven.”

“What do you think of her?” she asks me.

“I like her,” I say. “You?”

“There’s something off about her. I like it.”

“Maybe she’s a vampire,” I say.

“She is not a vampire,” Liz says.

“She’s pale. Good sense of smell. She’s traveling alone.”

“She’s here with her mom,” Liz reminds me.

“So she says.”

Liz closes her eyes and then opens them again. “I’m hungry. Wanna get something to eat?”

“Um, no thanks. I’m still full from your midnight treat. Thanks for bringing me that snack from the bar, by the way.”

“Alrighty, I’ll see you later.” She blows me a kiss and sashays off.

I don’t mind having a minute alone. The breeze is in my hair, the sky is bright blue—it’s a perfect day.

What could be better?

James. Seeing James could make this better. Yes, I know James Bond isn’t his real name, but I can call him whatever I like. I sigh and close my eyes. There are lots of other guys who could be my first. But there was something about James…. He’d be perfect. He’s the one! My first! Of course he doesn’t know this yet. He doesn’t even know my name yet. I don’t even know his name yet. In fact I hardly know anything about him except that he’s a student at Penn and he looks great in a tux.

But I know he’s perfect.

I have to find him.

By eleven Hailey has set up next to me. By twelve Liz is back with messy hair and a naughty smile on her face.

“And what took you so long?” I ask.

She winks. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

By two there’s still no James at this pool, and I decide I might as well look around the ship. “I wonder where he is,” I say.

If he’s not going to come to me, I’m going to have to go to him.

“Anyone wanna come stalk James with me?” I ask.

“Definitely,” Liz says, slipping on her flip-flops.

The three of us hit the deck.

“Let’s see,” Liz says. “There are three other pools on the boat. Which one will he be at?”

“Let’s start at the top and work our way down,” Hailey suggests.

We try the eleventh-floor pool first. Kiddie pool. No James.

“At least I know he has no children,” I say. There you go—now I know three things about him.

We try the tenth-floor pool next. It’s the fitness pool. It’s long and rectangular, and there are a whole bunch of hard-core workout buffs swimming laps.

No James. No sun either, since it has a roof. I flip my sunglasses to the top of my head.

“I like this pool,” Hailey says, ogling the pumped-up guys hard at work. “Can we come back here later?”

“Watching them is too tiring,” Liz says. “Next!”

Last pool—ninth floor. We step out of the elevator and—

Omigod. “There he is!” I say, pointing. James! In the flesh! In the hot tub! Oh! Even though there’s a roof, he’s wearing aviator sunglasses, and he’s holding a beer and he’s just as gorgeous as I remember and he’s sitting next to a girl and—

A girl. Who is this girl and why is she stalking my man? I’m the only one who gets to stalk my man.

The girl is giggling at something James is saying: a high, tinkling, annoying giggle, a giggle that makes me want to kill her.

His hand is resting on her shoulder.

“Booooo,” I moan. “I think my boyfriend already has a girlfriend.”

I stomp my sandaled foot against the deck.

“You’re cuter,” Hailey says.

Liz nods. “You can take her.”

I shake my head. “I can find a single guy. I don’t need to rob someone of her boyfriend.”

“It’s not a girlfriend,” Liz says. “It’s some random girl he’s flirting with. I saw her last night at the casino with a whole other group. She’ll be history by dinner.”

“You think?” I ask hopefully.

“I promise,” she says.

We all split up in the late afternoon: Hailey claims she needs a nap, Liz hits the gym, and I check out the spa. We all meet for dinner and a little YMCAing at the disco. Later we find James Bond back at the casino bar.

The good news: Liz was right—the girl from the afternoon is nowhere to be found.

The bad news: He’s with two new girls. He’s smiling at both of them, his teeth gleaming against his pale skin.

Sigh.

“Next,” Hailey whispers.

“But he’s so perfect,” I say. “Look at him.”

“Kristin, you can’t just hook up with someone who’s already hooked up with two people in as many days,” she says, shaking her head. “That’s skanky. No offense, Liz.”

“None taken,” Liz says cheerfully.

“It’s not like I want a deep, meaningful relationship,” I mumble.

“But he’s a creep. What happened to the girl in the hot tub? Has he forgotten all about her already?”

His arm is gently brushing against the back of one of the girls, the one in a pink halter top. The other girl, wearing her hair in a tight bun, is twirling on a bar stool, looking bored and annoyed. She whispers something to Miss Pink Halter Top and then takes off.

“Great. Now the lovebirds are on their own.” I throw my hands in the air. “I give up!”

“Let’s go get ice cream sundaes,” Hailey suggests. “They’re giving them out in the dining room. I bet there are better guys there. Ones that aren’t so cocky looking.”

“But I like cocky guys,” I say sadly.

We step back out into the lobby. “You two go ahead,” Liz says. “I have someone I need to talk to.”

“Your friend from last night?” Hailey asks knowingly.

Liz winks.

We go for ice cream. Hailey takes two bowls: one for her and one for her alleged mother.

“Not that she’ll eat it,” Hailey says. “It’ll probably just melt into a pile of gunk.”

“Has she not left her room?” That is so weird. Could that even be true? How could we not have seen her at least once?

“I think she has a few times. But only at night. She sleeps all day. It’s ridiculous.”

“Want me to come check on her with you?” I ask. To see if she really exists. Maybe she’s the vampire. Ha-ha.

“Oh no. Don’t worry about it. She’d hate it if I brought someone back to the room. Wanna go to yours and hang out? I can meet you there after I drop this off. Don’t you have a balcony?”

“I do, but…” Not a good idea. “My roomie might have a friend there. And we don’t want to…ruin the mood.”

“This is it,” Liz says the next day at the pool. “Our last full day. Are you ready to make your move, sweetie?”

“I’ve been ready for three days.” Kind of. Hopefully. I scan the pool area for his gorgeousness. “He’s not even here.”

“He will be,” she says.

“If you really want to make it happen, I think you may need to choose someone else,” Hailey says. “You’re practically out of time.”

“But he’s my dream man,” I say. “I just need to get him alone.”

“And I doubt you will any time soon,” Hailey says, pointing with a toe across the pool. “Look who’s over there by herself.”

The girl with the bun from last night, the friend of Pink Halter Top girl, is talking to one of the waiters.

“Oh great,” I say.

“Her friend is probably all cuddled-up with your boy. Time for you to move on.”

The girl sees us staring and hurries over.

“What could she want?” Hailey wonders aloud.

When she reaches our chairs, she says, “Hey, sorry to bother you guys. But you were at the casino last night, right?”

“Yeah,” Liz says.

“Did you see me and my sister? We were talking to a guy named Jay?”

Seriously? His name is Jay? That is so close to James. Is that not a sign that he was meant to be my first, or what?

“I saw,” I say.

“Have you seen my sister since then?” she asks hopefully. “Here somewhere?”

The three of us shake our heads.

“Maybe she’s still with…Jay?” I say. “My Jay,” I want to add but don’t.

The girl sighs. “Do you mind if I sit down?”

“Of course, sweetie, take a load off,” Liz says, pulling in her knees to make room.

“I’m Ali,” she says. “And my sister is not with Jay.”

“Are you sure?” I ask hopefully.

She nods. “I went by his room this morning. She wasn’t with him. I asked him where she was and he said he had no idea.”

That’s good news, right? “But didn’t she go off with him last night?”

“He says she didn’t,” the girl says. “But that doesn’t make sense. She never came back to the room. Her bed is still made. Where else could she be?”

Liz pats her arm. “Maybe she met some other guy?”

“I guess….”

“I’m sure that’s it. She probably met some guy and went back to his room.”

“But that’s so unlike her! I mean, she liked Jay; why would she just hook up with someone else?”

“I’m sure she’s around somewhere,” Liz says, continuing to pat the girl’s arm. “Do you want me to help you look for her?”

“Would you? I’d really appreciate it. It’s just the two of us, and I’m getting a little freaked out—”

“No worries,” Liz says, tying on her wrap. “I’m happy to help.”

“Do you want us to come?” I ask.

“No, you guys stay here in case…”

“Carly,” Ali says.

“In case Carly turns up.”

“Are you creeped out?” Hailey says to me as Liz and the new girl head to the elevator.

“Hmm?”

“Are you creeped out?”

“About what?” I ask, truly clueless.

She pulls her legs into a cross-legged position. “Um, the fact that her sister was with Jay last night and disappeared?”

“But Jay told her Carly wasn’t with him,” I say.

“Sure, he said that, but what if he’s lying?”

I shrug. “Why would he lie?”

“He would lie if he did something to her!”

“Like what?”

“Like many things! Something bad! Gotten her drunk, robbed her, or thrown her over the boat railing. He could be a killer. We don’t know anything about him except that he’s good-looking.”

“Not true,” I say. “We think that he has no children. That he enjoys female company. We know he’s here for a wedding, and that he goes to Penn.”

“So he says. Don’t you think it’s all a little weird? The girl he was with last night is missing. And…come to think of it, what happened to the girl from the hot tub? I haven’t seen her around either.” She turns white. “Omigod.”

“What?”

“The story about the vampire. What if he’s the vampire?”

I almost laugh. “Oh, come on. Jay is not a vampire.”

“He could be.”

My Jay is not a vampire. “No he can’t.”

“Yes he can! Think about it.” She rubs her temples. “We only see him at night.”

“Not true. We saw him in the hot tub. That was during the day.”

“Oh, right.” Her forehead creases. “But it was indoors! Ha! No direct sunlight.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You think it’s a joke, but he could be dangerous. If I were you I would stay clear of him. Don’t let him try to get you alone.”

Let him? At this point I can’t force him to be alone with me.

An hour later Liz is back, looking satisfied. “All good,” she says, lying back down in her chair. “Sister found.”

Hailey claps. “Seriously?”

“Yup.” She reaches into her bag and reapplies her sunblock.

Hailey sighs. “Thank god. Where was she?”

“She got up early and went to the spa. Ali must have been sleeping when she left the room.”

“But I thought her bed was made?”

Liz shrugs. “Guess she made it.”

“Who makes her own bed on a cruise?” I ask.

“You’d have to ask her,” Liz says with a shrug.

Or not.

The tension melts from Hailey’s face. “Omigod. That is such a relief.”

“Hailey was about to report Jay for being a vampire,” I say, giggling.

“I was nervous!” Hailey cries.

Liz raises an eyebrow. “You think Jay is a vampire?”

“Not anymore,” she says. “Although he does kind of look like a vampire. Don’t you think?”

“What does a vampire look like exactly?” I ask, still giggling.

“You know. Pale skin. Dark hair. Brooding eyes.”

Liz smiles. “Sounds sexy.”

“Vampires are sexy,” Hailey admits. “Brad Pitt? Sexy. Angel? Sexy. Edward? Super sexy. I would totally do it with a vampire.”

Liz pokes me. “Speaking of doing it…”

“I know, I know.”

“Tonight is your last chance,” she continues. “You are going to find your vampire boyfriend and tie him down until you’ve done it. Enough is enough. Got it?”

“Got it,” I say, pounding my fists against the lounge’s handles. “Tonight is the night. No idea what I’m going to say to him but—”

“Why do you have to talk to him at all?” She wiggles her eyebrows.

“Get your mind out of the gutter.” I laugh.

“Just try to get yours in the gutter, where it belongs.”

“She has to say something to him,” Hailey says. “She can’t just start making out with him.”

“I very much doubt he would mind that,” Liz says.

“I don’t know why you’re going to waste your virginity on him anyway,” Hailey says. “Sure he’s cute, but he seems like a jerk. In all likelihood he hooked up with at least two other girls in three days. He doesn’t sound like a catch. He sounds like a player.”

Liz waves Hailey’s words away. “Players are the best choices. Trust me. He’s the one. You’ll have a lot more fun.”

I nod. I know she’s right. “So what should I do?”

“Be fearless.”

“Do what you want,” Hailey says. “But if I were you I’d shy away from hickeys.”

When I see him at the bar, I know the time is right.

This is it.

He’s sitting by himself. Waiting. For me.

Okay, fine, probably not for me, but he’s alone, isn’t he? Good enough.

Hailey and Liz are in our room. Liz told Hailey she could borrow an outfit.

I square my shoulders and take a deep breath. I can do this. I can do this.

“Hi,” I say, my heart pounding. “Can I buy you a drink?”

He gives me a gleaming smile. “You want to buy me a drink?”

“I offered, didn’t I?”

“It must be my lucky night,” he says, eyes twinkling. Omigod, he smells amazing. Musky and salty and absolutely delicious. I knew he would!

“I think it’s definitely your lucky night,” I say, my cheeks burning. I can’t believe I just said that. I wave the bartender over. “What would you like?”

“A Bloody Mary,” he says, and smiles at me.

Really? People actually drink that? Liz would laugh out loud. Who knows, maybe it’s good. “I’ll have one too,” I tell the bartender.

“Jay,” he says, and gulps down the drink.

“Oh, I know,” I say brazenly. “I mean, nice to meet you. I’m Kristin.”

Crap. Should I have told him my real name? Does it really matter?

“Since it’s my lucky day, maybe we should hit the tables,” he says. His teeth are tinged red.

He does look a little like a vampire. Not that he is. Of course he isn’t.

My heart starts pounding. Can I really do this?

“We could,” I say, and lean in toward him so he can see just a little bit down the top of my shirt. Hello, fearless me. “Or maybe you want to get out of here?”

His eyes light up like candles. “Seriously?” He grins. “Yeah, I’m up for that. Wanna check out my room?”

“Do you have a roommate?” I ask, my heart thumping.

“No. But I have a balcony.”

“Sounds good,” I say, downing the rest of my drink for liquid courage.

He takes my hand. “Come with me.”

Here we go! I did it! Okay, I didn’t do it yet, but I am in the ready position.

We are standing on his balcony. The sky is liquid black and sprinkled with shining stars. The wind blows through my hair and makes my skin tingle. I hold on to the banister and take a deep breath of sea air.

“Nice out here, huh?” he asks.

“It’s amazing.”

He puts his arm around my shoulders. “So,” he says.

“So,” I respond. I turn back toward him. Here it is. My chance. All I have to do is not chicken out.

His face inches closer to me. And closer. I’m breathing his salty smell. I can almost taste him.

And then…we’re kissing.

We’re kissing!

Yay!

He kisses me harder. He runs his fingers through my hair. He lowers his hand to the small of my back and pulls me into him. He stops kissing me only to tell me how beautiful I am, which is so nice. He’s so nice.

Oh my. What am I doing? Can I go through with this?

I don’t know. I feel sick.

I don’t think I can do this.

I can’t do this.

I pull back.

“I’m sorry, James. I mean Jay. I mean…” I have to get out of here. “I thought I could do this. But I can’t.”

“Huh?” he says, startled, eyes blinking open.

“I have to go. Now. Trust me.”

“But, but…” He grips my shoulders. “We’re not done.”

Excuse me?

“You can’t lead me on like that and then not finish what you started,” he says, his voice low and rumbly.

“I don’t think that’s the way it works,” I tell him.

“I think it is,” he says, pulling me back toward him.

“No, it really isn’t. I’m not ready.”

“You seem ready to me.”

Maybe he’s right. Maybe I am ready. I try to relax. I take a deep breath. This is what I want. He certainly deserves to be my first.

“Hmm,” I say, taking a deep breath. I kiss the edge of his lips. And then his cheek. And then I nibble on his ear. Carefully. And then I move down to the top of his neck. He just smells so delicious. Tasty. The real Parfum de Vie—scent of life. Hungry, I kiss his neck. Lick his neck. Lick off the aftershave. Yum.

“That feels so good,” he murmurs.

I open my mouth wider. Here it comes. I’m ready. I can do this. Be fearless.

I sink my teeth into his neck.

“Hey!” he screams. “That hurts.” He tries to pull back.

Now it’s too late to go back. It’s time. I pull him back toward me, steady his face between my cold hands, and bite him again.

Liz was right. This isn’t that hard.

As he pointlessly struggles to get away, he asks, “Why are you doing this to me?”

Because I’m thirsty, I think but don’t say. I’m too busy drinking.

“What…are you?” he mumbles just before he passes out.

I swallow a mouthful of blood. Much better than a Bloody Mary. “I’m a vampire,” I explain, and then finish him off.

I did it. I did it!

My first time. I have to admit, I’m kind of proud of myself.

Once I’ve drained his body, I heave it over the railing and watch him disappear into the blackness below.

After I hear a soft splash, I let myself out.

I find Hailey and Liz alone on the pool deck.

Hailey is lying across a lounge chair, her eyes wide open, her arms and legs trembling.

“Yay, you did it!” Liz says. “Full?”

“Stuffed,” I say. “Extra delicious. Fantabulous. Even better than Checker Boy, or the old bartender, or hot tub girl.”

“Fresh is always better than leftovers.”

“You are absolutely right.”

“Although you didn’t taste Ali or Carly,” Liz says. “They were pretty tasty.”

I look down at Hailey, who’s staring into the sky, still trembling. “I thought she’d be overboard by now. You decided to change her instead?”

Liz nods. “Yeah. You don’t mind, do you? I like her. I think she’ll be fun. I gave her the choice, of course. She said she was up for something new. She doubts her mom will even notice she’s different.”

Laughter wafts from the other end of the deck. We look up. Two college guys are walking over to us. One of the guys is wearing a Yankees hat.

Hailey pushes herself up on her elbows.

“You okay?” I ask.

She nods, and then, her hand no longer shaking, points to the guy in the hat and whispers, “Dibs.”

Excerpt from Ten Things We Did (And Probably Shouldn’t Have)

2 girls + 3 guys + 1 house – parents = 10 things April

and her friends did that they (definitely, maybe, probably) shouldn’t have.

Read on to find out what happens in Sarah

Mlynowski’s Ten Things We Did (and Probably Shouldn’t Have).

saturday, march 28

THE MORNING AFTER

I bolted awake. A siren.

The police were outside my house. Ready to arrest me for underage partying, excessive flirting, and an overcrowded hot tub.

But wait.

My brain turned on. No, not the cops. Just my phone—my dad’s ringtone.

Which was even worse.

I rummaged around the futon. No phone. Instead I felt a leg. A guy’s leg. A guy’s leg flung over my ankle. A guy’s leg that did not belong to my boyfriend.

Oh God. Oh God. What did I do?

WEEEooooWEEEooooWEEEoooo!

Upstairs. The siren ring was coming from upstairs, the main level of Vi’s house.

Maybe I should just go back to sleep…No! Phone ringing. In bed with not my boyfriend. I managed to get myself out of the futon without disturbing him and—um, where were my pants? Why was I in bed with a guy who was not my boyfriend without any pants?

At least I had underwear on. And a long-sleeved shirt. I looked around for some pants. The sole item of clothing within grabbing distance was Vi’s red dress that I wore last night for the party.

That dress was trouble.

I ran up the stairs bare-legged. At the top, I almost passed out.

It looked like a war zone. Empty plastic cups littered the wooden floor. Half-eaten tortilla chips were planted in the shag area rug like pins on a bulletin board. A large blob—punch? Beer? Something I’d be better off not identifying?—had stained the bottom half of the pale blue curtain. A white lace bra hung from the four-foot cactus.

Brett was in surfer shorts, face-planted on the couch. He was using the purple linen tablecloth as a blanket. Zachary was asleep in one of the dining room chairs, wearing an aluminum foil tiara on his lolled-back head. The patio door was open—and a puddle of rain had flooded the carpet.

WEEEooooWEEEooooWEEEoooo! Phone was louder. Closer. But where? The kitchen counter? The kitchen counter! Nestled between a saucer of cigarette butts and an empty bottle of schnapps! I dove toward it. “Hello?”

“Happy birthday, Princess,” my dad said. “Did I wake you?”

“Wake me?” I asked, my heart thumping. “Of course not. It’s already”—I spotted the microwave clock across the room—“nine thirty-two.”

“Good, because Penny and I are on our way to see you!”

Terror seized me. “What does that mean?”

My dad laughed. “We decided to surprise you on your birthday. It was actually Penny’s idea.”

“Wait. For real?”

“Of course for real! Surprise!”

My head was spinning, and I felt like vomiting and it wasn’t just because of the many, many, definitely too many glasses of spiked punch I had consumed last night. My father could not see this place. No, no, no.

Oh God. I’d violated 110 percent of my dad’s rules. The evidence was all around, mocking me.

This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t happen. I would lose everything. If, after last night, I had anything left to lose. I took a step and a tortilla chip attacked my bare foot. Owww.

Mother friggin’ crap.

“That’s great, Dad,” I forced myself to say. “So…where are you exactly? Did your plane just land?”

Please let them still be at the airport. It would take them at least an hour to drive here from LaGuardia. I could make this house look presentable in an hour. I would find some pants. Then I would toss the bottles and cups and cigarette butts and vacuum the tortilla chips and maybe the bra, maybe even Brett and Zachary—

“Nope, we just drove through Greenwich. We should be in Westport in twenty minutes.”

Twenty minutes?!

There was groaning from the couch. Brett flipped onto his back and said, “It’s eff-ing freezing in here.”

“April, there’s not a boy over, is there?” my dad asked.

I sliced my hand through the air to tell Brett to shut the hell up.

“What? No! Of course not! Vi’s mom is listening to NPR.”

“We just passed the Rock Ridge Country Club. Looks like we’re making better time than I thought. We’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Can’t wait to see you, Princess.”

“You too,” I choked out, and hung up. I closed my eyes. Then opened them.

Two half-naked boys in the great room. One in a tiara.

More half-naked boys in the bedrooms.

Empty liquor bottles and trashed cups.

And Vi’s mom nowhere in sight.

I was a dead princess.

number one:

lied to our parents

THREE MONTHS EARLIER

“How would you like to finish high school in Cleveland?” my dad asked me out of nowhere during Christmas break of junior year.

Fine. Maybe it wasn’t completely out of nowhere.

THREE MONTHS, ONE MINUTE, THIRTY SECONDS EARLIER

“April, can you sit down? We need to talk to you about an important issue.”

This should have tipped me off that something disconcerting was about to take place. But at the time, I was too busy multitasking to pick up on the signals. It was Thursday night, nine fifty-five, and Marissa had just dropped me off before my ridiculous ten o’clock (even during Christmas holidays) curfew. I was standing in front of the fridge debating between grapes or an apple for my evening snack and contemplating if tomorrow night was finally the right time to have sex with Noah.

I was leaning toward the apple. Even though what I really wanted was chocolate fudge cake. But since Penny didn’t eat junk food, especially chocolate junk food, the likelihood of finding chocolate fudge cake in our fridge was about as high as finding a unicorn in our backyard.

As for the other thing…the one that made me want to jump on my bed and hide under the covers…it was time. I loved Noah. He loved me. We had waited long enough. We had planned on doing it over the break, but my brother, Matthew, had been here until this morning. Tonight, Noah had a party he had to go to with his parents and on Saturday he was leaving for Palm Beach.

Tomorrow was the only time. Plus, my dad and Penny had a dinner party in Hartford, an hour away, so that would leave me an empty house from about six to midnight. Sex would not take six hours. Would it?

I guessed it would take thirty minutes, tops. Or an hour. Or three minutes.

I was ready. Wasn’t I? I’d told Noah I was ready. I had convinced myself I was ready. Ready to have sex with Noah. Noah who had dimples when he smiled. Noah who’d been my boyfriend for over two years.

I grabbed the apple, rinsed it, then took a large bite.

But was it a bad idea to do it the night before he left for a week in Palm Beach? What if I freaked out the next day and he was at the bottom of the country?

“You’re dripping,” my stepmom said, eyes darting back and forth between the offending fruit and the white-tiled floor. “Pretty please, use a plate and sit down?” Penny was obsessed with cleanliness. The way most people carried around a cell phone, Penny carried around hand-sanitizing wipes.

I took a plate and a seat at the table, across from them. “So what’s up?”

“And a place mat,” she added.

Then came my father’s contribution: “How would you like to finish high school in Cleveland?”

The question did not sound like English. It made zero sense to me. I wasn’t going to Cleveland. I’d never been to Cleveland. Why would I be going to school there? “Huh?”

My dad and Penny stole quick glances at each other and then refocused on me. “I’m starting a new job,” he said.

The kitchen was suddenly a hundred degrees. “But you already have a job,” I explained slowly. He worked for a hedge fund right here in Westport, Connecticut.

“This is a better job,” he said. “A very lucrative job. Very.”

“But—why do you need two jobs?” In retrospect, I was being dense. But they were throwing massive information bombs at me. Cleveland! New job! Place mat!

“I don’t need two jobs,” he said slowly. “That’s why I’m quitting Torsto and taking the job at KLJ in Cleveland.”

My brain was refusing to process this information. “You’re moving to Cleveland?”

“We’re moving to Cleveland,” he said, sweeping his right hand to include all three of us. My dad, Penny. And me.

I choked on a piece of apple.

What? Me? In Cleveland? No. No, no, no. Not happening. I gripped the arms of my chair. I was not moving. They would not, could not, make me let go of this chair.

“We’re all moving to Cleveland,” Penny piped in. “On January third.”

Nine days. They wanted me to move in nine days? Wait. But. “You asked me if I would like to finish high school in Cleveland. My answer is no. I would not.”

They looked at each other again. “April,” Penny said. “My folks have already found some terrific schools for you to…”

As she rattled on, panic grabbed hold of my throat and tightened its grip. I wasn’t going to Cleveland. I wasn’t leaving my life. I wasn’t leaving Marissa. Or Vi. I wasn’t leaving Noah. I wasn’t leaving Westport smack in the middle of junior year. Not happening. No way. “No thanks,” I managed, my voice squeaky and weird.

Penny giggled nervously and then added, “We found a very nice house in…”

I took another bite of my apple and willed myself not to hear her. Lalalala.

If I didn’t leave Westport to move to Paris with Mom and Matthew, I wasn’t leaving to move to Cleveland with them. And why Cleveland? Penny’s parents were there so we had to be there too? Was it all about her? My head started to spin.

“…wonderful because you’re right in time for the new semester—”

“I. Am. Not. Moving,” I said with as much force as I could muster.

They stared at me again, obviously unsure how to react. Penny reached over and played with the tip of my place mat.

I couldn’t leave. I couldn’t, I couldn’t. I tried to blink away the black spots that were suddenly dancing before my eyes. There had to be a way out. An escape. “I’ll stay here,” I said quickly. “I can stay here, can’t I?” Yes. That was it. They could go. I would stay. Ta-da! Problem solved.

“You absolutely cannot stay here by yourself,” Penny said.

I could, I could, I could. Please?

My dad leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and his chin in the palm of his hand. “We’re going to rent out the house until the market gets better and then we’re planning on selling it.”

“Don’t rent it! Or rent it to me! I’ll stay!” Not that I had any money. But it was all I could think of.

“You are not staying here without us,” my stepmom told me. “That’s ridiculous. And it’s not safe.”

Wait a sec. I caught my breath, anger pushing out the panic. I narrowed my eyes at my betrayer of a father. “This is why you two were in Cleveland last month?”

He nodded, a bit sheepishly.

“I thought you were visiting Penny’s parents. Why didn’t you tell me you were interviewing?” I had been oblivious, enjoying the weekend with Marissa’s family. Lalala clueless me.

Another look with Penny. “We didn’t want to worry you.”

Yeah, why would I want some time to get used to the idea? Much better to spring it on me like a knife-wielding jack-in-the-box. “But now it’s all set?”

“Yes,” he said. “I gave my notice yesterday.”

So Penny, Penny’s parents, and my dad’s company knew before I did. Way to make a daughter feel important. Did Matthew know too? Did Mom know?

“It’s a beautiful city, April,” Penny said, rubbing her hands together like she was washing them. “I loved living there. And it’s very culturally interesting. Did you know the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame is there?”

The panic set in again. “I can’t move,” I said, struggling for air. “I just can’t.”

“Is this about Noah?” she asked.

“No, it’s not about Noah.” Of course it was about Noah. Noah, who had filled my room with fifty helium balloons on my sixteenth birthday. Noah who helped me lug all my suitcases and badly taped boxes from my mom’s to my dad’s. Noah who had the softest hands I’d ever held. Noah who called me his cutie.

But it was not just about Noah. It was about Marissa and Vi and my whole life. I couldn’t leave everything—everyone—behind. My dad and I were close, but now he had Penny, and Penny and I…we didn’t have much of a relationship. She tried to connect, I tried to connect, my father tried to connect us, but it was like we had walkie-talkies that were on different frequencies. Moving to Ohio with them would be lonely. Too lonely.

“You’ll meet lots of new boys,” Penny said.

“It’s not about Noah,” I repeated, louder, over the sound of my pounding head. What was I going to do? I could not move to Cleveland in ten days. I needed a plan. Fast. They were four seconds away from packing me up and tossing me halfway across the country. “I have friends here. I have…” What else did I have? “Soccer. School.” I was grasping at straws, but I needed to get through to them. I had only recently started to feel settled again. I couldn’t just move. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

“You’ll make new friends. And soccer season is over,” Penny said, reaching to pat me and then apparently deciding not to. “You can play on a new team next year in Cleveland. And you can still keep in touch with everyone back here.”

I didn’t want to keep in touch. I knew all about keeping in touch and I hated it. And now I’d have to do it with Noah and all my friends. Were Cleveland and Connecticut even in the same time zone? Where was Cleveland exactly?

The black spots returned to the corners of my eyes. If I moved to Cleveland, I’d wake up every morning wishing I was still in Westport. I’d wake up every morning in the big black hole. I couldn’t let that happen. There had to be another way. Someone I could stay with here. Marissa? I sat up straighter. Yes! Maybe. No. In theory, her family would be happy to have me, but they really didn’t have the space. Marissa already shared a room with her sister. I couldn’t exactly sleep in her trundle bed for the rest of the year.

Noah? Ha. Sure, I loved him, and I got along with his parents and siblings, but I wasn’t ready to share a bathroom with any of them.

And that left… Vi.

Wait. That was it. “I can live with Vi!” Yes, yes, yes!

“You want to live with your friend Violet?” my dad asked.

“Yes!” I exclaimed. My ribs expanded as hope poured in. “I can move in with Vi.”

“You can’t live with a friend,” Penny said, emphasizing the word friend like I had said “family of anacondas.”

“Not just a friend,” I rushed to explain. “A friend and her mom.” This could work. It could really work. Vi had a funky house on Mississauga Island, right on Long Island Sound. From her living room windows you could see right onto the water.

“I don’t think it’s appropriate for you to move in with another family,” my dad said. “And I doubt Vi’s mother would agree to it.”

Well, I didn’t think it was appropriate—or fair—for them to yank me out of school in the middle of my junior year. “Vi’s mom will be completely cool with it. Last year they volunteered to host an exchange student but it didn’t work out. Suzanne’s really laid-back.”

Dad’s eyebrows went up.

“Not too laid-back,” I added quickly. “Plus, the basement is already set up like a bedroom. Has its own bathroom and everything. I could at least ask, couldn’t I? And then we could talk about it some more? We could at least consider it?”

Penny wrinkled her nose. “You want to move into a basement? Basements are cold and drafty.”

“I don’t mind.” A basement in Westport was better than any room in Cleveland.

“I don’t know,” Penny said, shaking her head.

It’s not up to you, I wanted to say but didn’t. I pointedly looked at my dad, and did my best to appear reasonable and mature. Speaking slowly, I said, “There’s no point in me moving all the way to Cleveland now. I have six months left of the year. Let me finish it here. At Hillsdale. I love Hillsdale. I’ll be fine at Vi’s. She’d love to have me.”

A furrow formed in Dad’s brow.

“Please?”

“But what about next year? Isn’t Vi a senior?” my dad asked.

“Let’s deal with this year first. If I have to move next year, I’ll move next year.” There was no way I was moving next year either. But who knew what the situation would be by then? Once upon a time I lived with my mother, father, and brother at 32 Oakbrook Road, but that had changed too. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll hate Cleveland and want to come back. Or maybe Vi will still be here next year.” Yeah, right. Vi had big plans and they involved colleges far, far away from Westport. “Can’t we try Vi’s for this semester? Please?” By the final please I had tears in my eyes and a quivering lip.

No one spoke.

I wasn’t sure what I expected. I kind of doubted they were actually going to let me move in with a friend. I wouldn’t have let me move in with a friend. When the pause continued, I thought I was done for.

“I guess we can talk to Violet’s mother,” my dad said at last.

I jumped out of my chair and threw my arms around him.

TINY COMPLICATION

I left two messages on Vi’s cell on Thursday night but she didn’t call me back. She was probably busy with some sort of party. We’re Jewish, so to me it was the Day Dad Told Me He Was Moving, but to the majority of the world it was Christmas. I hadn’t told her the details, only that I needed to talk to her.

She called me back Friday morning at eleven.

“Everything okay?” she asked. “I just called in for my messages. My mother borrowed my cell yesterday and can’t remember where she left it.”

I filled her in, then held my breath. What if after all this Vi didn’t want me there?

“Of course you can live with me! Of course my mom won’t mind! I absolutely cannot let you move to Cleveland! Hells no!”

Whoosh—I exhaled with relief.

“We’re going to be housemates!” she squealed.

I would have used the word roommates myself, but Vi was a housemates type of girl. Housemate sounded sophisticated. Roommate was for kids. Vi was also the type of girl who hated being called a “girl.” She was a woman, thank you very much. She drank wine, wore her hair in a short black bob, worked out every morning, edited the school paper, and read the New York Times daily. “Girl” would not do. Vi rocked.

Vi and I went to the same preschool. Back then the classes were mixed, three- and four-year-olds together. Vi and I bonded. Our moms bonded. Eventually Suzanne and my mom lost touch, but Vi and I stayed friends over the years even though we weren’t in the same grade, even though we didn’t run in the same crowds. Sometimes we overlapped—like the night of The Incident. But usually we stayed to our own social circles. We always stayed friends though.

“We’re going to have a blast,” she continued.

We would have a blast. Living with Vi and Suzanne would not be like living with my dad and Penny.

Let’s take a second to compare, shall we?

Every bed in our house was required to have hospital corners. I was told to please use a pillow if I was going to lean against my linen headboard. Vi and her mom, on the other hand, both had water beds. I’d never seen Suzanne’s water bed made. Vi’s house smelled like cinnamon incense. Mine smelled like hand wipes with a splash of Lysol. Due to The Incident, my curfew was ten P.M. Suzanne did not believe in curfews. Anyway, they’d be tough to enforce since her shows usually went until eleven and she herself was never home before one at the earliest.

One more Suzanne/my dad comparison: Suzanne was spontaneous. She had last-minute potluck dinners and marathon movie nights. My dad and Penny scheduled sex. Every Tuesday and Saturday at eleven. I tried to be asleep. It wasn’t like it was on the calendar, but I could hear the Barry Manilow playing like clockwork. Can you imagine…scheduling sex? Could anything be less romantic?

Okay, so Noah and I were trying to schedule sex—tonight?!—but clearly, that was for a different reason. We couldn’t spontaneously get a place to ourselves.

“This is perfect,” Vi continued. “You have no idea how perfect. My mother was just offered the lead role in the traveling production of Mary Poppins.”

I laughed. “Your mother is playing Mary Poppins?”

“Yes. I see the irony.”

“For how long?”

“It’s a six-month contract. The show starts in Chicago for six weeks and then moves around the country. She’ll be relieved if I have someone to hang out with.”

Holy crap. “The two of us…in your house?” The two of us. In her beach house. With no parents.

“Hells yeah! Isn’t that perfect?”

“Your mom is fine with leaving you alone?”

“Darling. Finding work is tough these days, and my mom’s not getting any younger or any thinner. She’s twice the size she used to be. If she’s offered Traveling Mary Poppins, she’s taking Traveling Mary Poppins.”

Suzanne had been a midlevel Broadway star. Then she’d gotten knocked up by a cute Brit. Then, cute Brit dumped her for a cute Australian. Suzanne moved back home to Westport so her mom could help with baby Violet, and Suzanne became a waitress and did community theater. When Vi started high school, Suzanne started acting again in the city. The roles hadn’t been great. A lead role was huge. So I should have been happy for Suzanne—and I was—but if she was going to be Mary Poppins in Chicago…then I was going to be Le Misérable in Ohio.

I fell back on my bed. “Vi, my dad is not going to let me stay at your house without your mom there.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone. “Why not?”

“My father is a big believer in supervision.”

“But we’d have so much fun.”

“So much fun,” I answered forlornly. “Oh God, I’m going to have to move to Ohio.” The black spots were returning. I covered my eyes with my hands. “Why is my father ruining my life? Whose parents get up and move to another city?”

“Mine.”

Right. “Why don’t we have normal parents?”

Another pause. “Maybe my mom can convince your dad to let us try it out.”

“Vi, my dad is never going to let me stay with just you. He won’t let me live without a responsible adult on the premises. I don’t even think it’s legal.”

“I would hardly call my mother a responsible adult. Last night she had at least thirty actors over, all drunk and singing show tunes.”

“Telling my dad that will not help my case either. I’m screwed.”

“No, come on. Just explain that it’s not a big deal. My mother will call him when she wakes up.”

“It’s eleven.”

“She went to bed late.” She let out a long, pondering sigh. “Perhaps putting my mom and your dad on the phone together is not our best move. My mom tends to overshare. So here’s what we’re going to do: Let me talk to him.”

“You’re not going to be able to talk him into this, Vi.” She was good, but not that good. Last year, she’d won the school’s public-speaking competition. Her topic had been “how to win a public-speaking competition.” She was very convincing.

“What if he thinks I’m my mother?”

“Scusies?” My toes curled in my socks.

“He calls the house phone. He thinks I’m her. I tell him that I’m delighted to have you live with us, and I just don’t mention the traveling-around-the-country bit.”

Huh. “We just don’t tell him?”

“Exactly. What he doesn’t know…”

“Omigod, that’s insane. I can’t do that.” My breath grew shallow. I wasn’t the kind of person who did something like that.

“Then move to Cleveland.”

I could not move to Cleveland. Not now. Not eight days after I was about to do it with my boyfriend. Not in the middle of the year. Not ever.

I heard myself say, “What number should he call you on?”

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About the Author

SARAH MLYNOWSKI is the author of GIMME A CALL and the Magic in Manhattan series, which kicked off with BRAS & BROOMSTICKS. She is also the co-author of HOW TO BE BAD and has written several novels for adults. She currently lives in Manhattan and can be found online at www.sarahm.com.

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Copyright

Copyright © 2009 by Sarah Mlynowski

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