Part 3 (1/2)

Carrie had been in the girls' bathroom, brus.h.i.+ng her teeth before a study date with Josh, when she'd heard someone being sick in one of the stalls.

Sarah had emerged from the stall and rinsed out her mouth in a sink a few feet away from Carrie. Their eyes had met in the mirror over the sinks.

”Are you okay?” Carrie had inquired.

”Oh sure, I just ate too much dinner,” Sarah had replied.

”And it made you sick?” Carrie had asked wonderingly.

”Of course not, silly! I made myself sick. You think I want all that fried food turning to cellulite while I sleep?”

”But that's terrible for you, isn't it?” Carrie had asked before she eould censor herself. ”I mean, that's what I've heard,” she'd added.

”Only if you do it all the time,” Sarah had a.s.sured her, reaching into her purse for a lip- stick. ”I'm too smart to do anything stupid.”

”So you just do it sometimes?” Carrie had asked wonderingly.

”Just enough,” Sarah had said with a smile of satisfaction. She'd straightened the narrow belt that encircled her size four jeans. ”See ya!” she had called, and sauntered out of the bathroom.

Now, watching skinny Sarah Lovett walk con- fidently down the hall, Carrie thought about what Sarah had told her. Sarah certainly didn't look sick, and she certainly didn't look out of control.

Maybe it isn't such a horrible thing to do, as long as you don't do it very often. Carrie felt a surge of confidence.

Maybe there was a way out after all.

”I must be crazy,” sighed Sam as the warm Florida sun bathed her bikini-clad body. ”Going north for vacation at this time of year.”

”That you're crazy has been well established,”

answered Danny from his nearby spot on the sand. ”In fact, traveling north in April might be a sign that the Suns.h.i.+ne State hasn't warped your brain. There's a world outside of sun, surf, and sand, you know.”

”Name one thing Florida doesn't have,” chal- lenged Sam.

”Ski season, which I hope I'm not too late to enjoy by the time I get to Vermont. Ever tried skiing?”

”It's not a major pastime back in flat ole Kansas.”

”Listen, don't knock it,” said Danny, propping himself on one elbow and dribbling a handful of sand on Sam's exposed midriff. ”For one thing, you'd make a great-looking ski bunny.”

He's flirting with me, thought Sam, and quickly groped for something funny to say. ”Somehow I've never pictured myself looking all that hot in traction.”

She turned over onto her stomach so she wouldn't have to look at him looking at her. It was weird. Not that she wasn't attracted to Danny, because she was. In fact, in the beginning she'd been crazy for him to make a move on her, but he'd been way too shy.

He was, after all, seriously cute. His auburn- streaked brown hair and sea-green eyes made for a stunning combination. When he smiled, which in Sam's company was often, he had that Tom Cruise magnetism that made his good looks seem boyish and unintimidating. Add to this his natural shyness, and Danny presented a challenge that few girls could resist. Actually, Sam was flattered that he'd chosen to become her Mend.

And right now, as Charlie Brown would say, I need all the friends I can get, thought Sam. Now that Danny was finally hinting that he might be interested in more than just friends.h.i.+p, Sam was too afraid to risk what she already had. / mean, it's a well-doc.u.mented fact that once a guy is your boyfriend, he can't possibly be your friend anymore, Sam reasoned.

So far so good, though. Danny didn't show any signs of major disappointment at her sidestep- ping of his tentative advances. Well, thought Sam, maybe that's because all he really wants to be is my friend, anyway. The whole thing seemed too complicated.

That day the two of them had made an excur- sion to Cocoa Beach, a spit of sh.o.r.e just off the east coast of the Florida peninsula, and an easy day trip from Orlando. Danny had the day off from playing Goofy at Disney World, and Sam's waitress s.h.i.+ft didn't begin until six o'clock that evening. They'd packed bathing suits and a picnic lunch, had taken the season's first dip in the ocean, and were now enjoying a siesta in the sun before the drive back to Orlando.

”So what's your plan?” Danny queried as he settled back down on the blanket.

”I figure we can stay another half-hour and still make it back on time,” Sam said brightly.

”You know that's not what I meant. I meant, what is your plan about your waitress job? You know Big Al isn't going to let you off for two weeks to go on vacation when you just started working there.”

”So I'll quit,” Sam announced blithely. ”Restau- rant jobs are a dime a dozen in Orlando.”

”Maybe,” Danny said, sounding skeptical.

”Listen, Carrie and Emma and I have been planning this trip ever since our Christmas re- union was almost spoiled,” Sam said, raising herself up on one elbow. ”I'm not giving it up to stay here in a job where I wear ugly shoes and smell like a deep-fat fryer.”

”So how are you going to afford this trip?”

Danny challenged. ”Or, for that matter, your rent when you come back? You are coming back, aren't you?”

Sam noted a twinge of apprehension in his voice, and reached out to pat his arm rea.s.sur- ingly. ”Yes, Goofy, I'm coming back,” she said softly. ”As I already told you, Emma's picking me up, so I can stop combing the cla.s.sifieds for airline tickets. That saving alone should leave a little stash for my return.”

”I wish you'd change your mind about lying to your friends,” said Danny.

”It's my call,” Sam said in a tight voice.

”Sure, but it makes me feel crummy,” Danny said. ”I'd like to see your friend while she's here, and now I'll have to lie to her, too.”

”It isn't really a lie,” Sam rationalized. ”It's more like withholding unpleasant information. I'll level with them once we get to the island.” She stood and stretched.

”I don't know-” Danny began doubtfully.

”But I do!” Sam interrupted. She pulled him up from the blanket. ”Come on, worrywart. Let's take a stroll and talk about something fun, like our acting careers making us rich and famous someday soon.”

Danny agreed-what else could you do with Sam? They started up the beach. The ocean breeze had picked up, forecasting cooler temper- atures as evening arrived.

Sam walked into the wind with her arms extended and her head high, shaking her mane of red hair as if the moving air could clear her conscience. Please get me through this week and on the road before I can tell any more lies, she prayed. She could think of three she'd told in the last five minutes.

There was no extra money to pay the rent after she returned to Orlando. She wasn't at all sure she was even coming back. And she had no intention of letting on to Carrie and Emma how screwed up her life really was.

FOUR.

Brent Cresswell reached over the door of the s.h.i.+ny red Sunbird convertible and placed a finger under his daughter's chin. ”Sure I can't buy you breakfast before you get on the road?” he asked for the second time that morning.

”Really, Daddy, you've bought me more than enough,” Emma answered, tapping the steering wheel for emphasis. ”And I really do need to get started. I never dreamed Orlando was such a long drive from Palm Beach. I guess I've done most of my stateside traveling on planes.”

Emma was babbling and she knew it. This was an awkward good-bye, and she couldn't fool her father any more than she could fool herself. Still, some sense of propriety drove both of them to try to salvage, here at the eleventh hour, what had been a relentlessly uncomfortable visit.

If he says one word about how upset Valerie will be that she couldn't drag her sorry self out of bed to see me off, I will vomit right here on this sparkling white upholstery, thought Emma.