On the other end was my room, another guest room, and the room the boys shared, which I was jealous of. On one end there was my mother's room, Susannah and Mr. It had faded old seersucker couches and a creaking La-Z-Boy us kids always fought over, and peeling white paint and hardwood floors that had been bleached by the sun.īut it was a big house, room enough for all of us and more. It was a real honest-to-God beach house, the kind that's lived in and comfortable. The beach house wasn't some fancy kind of place. I didn't notice right away that their family had more money than ours. Over his shoulder Conrad said, "Good night, Belly." On the way out Jeremiah turned around and danced a quick jig for me, and I couldn't help it, I laughed. Now I just looked like a tattletale, a baby. She'd say he needed his own time, that I could go the next time around, that it would be more fun at the house with her and Beck anyway. It was true, my mother hated it when I told on Steven for things like this. Quickly I said, "Steven, if you don't let me go, I'll tell Mom." I was about to lose my chance to camp, to be a part of the gang. I watched them pick up their gear and get ready to leave. "You guys are so immature," Conrad said, shaking his head. Then he and Jeremiah started to dance a jig together. "Belly's gonna cry," Steven said in a singsong voice. Then they'd never take me along for real. The last thing I needed was to be a crybaby our first night. To Jeremiah and Conrad he said, "When she doesn't get her way, she cries. "Ooh, watch out, Belly's gonna cry," Steven said joyously. I turned away from them and faced the TV. Then he went back to rolling his sleeping bag. "Sorry, Belly," he said, and he really did look sorry for a second. Jeremiah talking to me made me feel brave enough to say, "Can I come too?"
Don't feel like you have to listen to him or anything." "Sir, yes, sir." He turned to me on the couch and said, "Conrad is bossy like our dad. Jeremiah saluted him and danced a little jig, which made me giggle. "Jeremiah, don't forget the cards," Conrad added, rolling up a sleeping bag. I wished I was at home, making butterscotch sundaes with my dad and eating them on our living room floor. He looked up to Conrad, who was eight months older it had always been that way.Įverybody had somebody but me. I had never seen him follow orders before. "Steven, make sure you bring the flashlight," Conrad directed. Don't take the whole box, I wanted to tell them. Especially when they packed the graham crackers and marshmallows. He was a Boy Scout he knew all about that kind of stuff. That first night, Conrad decided that the boys were going to sleep on the beach in sleeping bags and make a fire. Steven was his second in command, and Jeremiah was the jester. It wasn't that the boys even made a big deal out of it, which they easily could have, but it was the feeling different, like an outsider, that I hated. Every time she did it, I felt like disappearing. My mother always made sure to tell the waiter that I was younger than twelve. There was a time when I was the only one twelve or younger. Kids twelve and younger could eat there for twenty dollars. This summer Jeremiah was old enough to do it with him, but Conrad changed his mind at the last minute and decided to bus tables at the fancy seafood buffet instead. The original plan was for both Jeremiah and Conrad to work at the country club as lifeguards. "There's plenty of cute girls at the country club, so don't worry about me. "You're not a nice girl, Belly," he said. Jeremiah's cheeks turned pink, but he was laughing too, and shaking his head. "Don't tell me you've forgotten about Taylor Jewel already."Įveryone busted up laughing then, even Conrad. "Didn't we already try that once?" I said. "Belly, tell us about all the hot friends you're gonna set me up with," Jeremiah said. "Don't mind if I do," he said, breaking off a crusty chunk. "Steven's too much of a pig to understand the concept of lovely," I said sweetly.
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