Part 6 (2/2)

”Hi, Pres. ThisisCarrieAldenis-” ”Not the Carrie Alden!” Pres teased. ”Not the original party animal? Not the dance-till-you-drop, go-big-or-go-home girl herself?” ”I made a total a.s.s of myself, didn't I?” Carrie found the nerve to say.

”Look at it this way: you're not the first person who ever got clobbered by alcohol. And, frankly, I've seen a lot worse. A lot worse. People who would really surprise you.” Carrie appreciated his att.i.tude. Pres was making her feel a lot better. ”I suppose you want Mr. s.e.x Appeal, huh?” he said.

”I guess so,” Carrie laughed. ”Is Billy there?” ”I'm wounded,” Pres teased. ”I was referring to myself. But if you insist on second best, hold on.” Carrie stayed on the phone and waited.

”h.e.l.lo,” Billy said, coming to the phone.

”Hi. It's Carrie. I'm calling because I was wondering if you'd want to ... but I wouldn't blame you if you didn't, after the way I got so drunk the other night and all ... but I was wondering-” ”Hang on a second, okay?” he interrupted her.

In the background Carrie heard a male voice shouting something. ”What?” Billy bellowed back. ”I'm sorry,” he said, speaking into the phone again. ”Frank is yelling something at me and I can't hear you. Give me one minute and I'll be back.” Carrie took a deep breath. You sounded like a real idiot, she scolded herself. Try not to act like a total pea-brain when he comes back.

Then, suddenly, a brilliant idea came to her. She would simply pretend that she was Sam. Back in high school Carrie had acted in a couple of school plays.

She had a little experience in taking on another character. By pretending to herself to be Sam she could shed the old Carrie once and for all. She'd know exactly what to say and do.

”Hi, sorry.” Billy came back on the line. ”Listen, what Frank was telling me is that we've been invited to a midnight beach party after our gig at the Play Cafe Friday. Would you like to come hear us play and then go over there with me?”

”Friday, Friday, what do I have to do Friday?” Sam had instructed Carrie not to leap forward with a yes if Billy asked her out again. And she really did need a minute to think. There was something she had to do Friday.

”The clambake down at the beach,” she said, snapping her fingers. ”I promised to take the kids. Graham and Claudia can't go because Graham just gets mobbed by fans at public events. But it should be over before you finish playing. I'm sure I can get there before midnight.” ”Great!” he said. ”I still want that photography lesson. Things have just been sort of crazy with us these days, with the new demo and all. We were back in the studio yesterday working on it. We're going to send it out with a press release and stuff like that.” ”That is fabulous! That is so incredible. You'll be rich and famous soon,” Carrie said, remembering Sam's advice to act impressed.

Billy laughed, but he sounded pleased. ”Calm down. We haven't even finished the demo yet. I hope you're right, though.” Carrie heard the sound of more shouting in the background. ”I'd better go,” said Billy. ”We're heading over to the studio to lay down more tracks. It is so great working with Sid's equipment. You won't believe the difference in the sound.” ”Well, I can't wait to hear it,” she said flirtatiously. ”And I can't wait to see you again.” Somehow Carrie's version of Sam seemed a lot less cool than the original Sam. Would Sam have been so obvious? Still, it seems to have worked, she thought.

”Okay, got to go. Bye!” he said quickly.

Happy with the way things had worked out, Carrie headed out of her room and down the hall. The family had gone out for the day on a private yacht owned by a friend of Graham's. She had the day all to herself. The sound of her phone ringing made her run back. ”h.e.l.lo,” she answered breathlessly.

”It's only me,” said Sam. ”The monsters found two unsuspecting boys to go bike riding with today. Mr. Jacobs actually wanted me to go along, but the three of us practically got down on our knees and begged him to change his mind. Can you imagine? Anyway, I now unexpectedly have the day off and I know you do, too.”

”Good. You can help me buy a new bathing suit,” said Carrie. She went on the tell Sam about the beach party. ”Did you call Emma yet?” ”She's not available till two. I'll call her back and tell her to meet us at the Cheap Boutique.

They're having a big sale this week and they have great suits.” ”Terrific,” said Carrie. ”I'll meet you down there at one o'clock.” Carrie picked up the novel she was reading and headed out to the deck. The drone of Mrs. Ball's vacuum cleaner sounded from the living room. In the kitchen, pans clattered as Mrs.

Hanover, the part-time cook, prepared that night's dinner. The Templetons kept such irregular hours that Mrs. Hanover came early every other day, and then just left the meal in the refrigerator. Claudia stocked up on frozen gourmet dinners-or the ever-reliable take-out-for the days when Mrs. Hanover didn't come.

As Carrie crossed the living room, a letter on the coffee table caught her eye.

Mrs. Ball had picked up the mail from the post office box in town. At the top of the pile was a letter addressed to Carrie. She recognized the handwriting immediately. It was from Josh.

She picked up the letter and stuck it into her book. When she was settled into a lounge chair on the deck, she ripped it open.

Dear Carrie, Hi. Was glad to get your last letter. I hope things have settled down between you and your friend Emma. Don't be hard on her. It sounds as if she just didn't want to lose your friends.h.i.+p. You're a special person. People like to be around you, so maybe they say and do dumb things, thinking it will make you stick around. Hey, it sounds like I'm talking about myself, doesn't it? I guess I am. This summer seems so weird without you. I'm used to the two of us doing everything together, so it's hard sometimes. I've been out on a few dates, but nothing special. I know you and I said we were going to stay friends. And I'm trying-I'm writing you this letter, aren't I?-but it's hard. Real hard.

You're my friend, but you're more. I miss the more part. Sorry, don't want to guilt you out. But my offer to get pre-engaged still stands if you find yourself interested after the summer is over. I miss the fun we had. I miss touching you.

I miss you.

Love, Josh.

Carrie blew aside a strand of hair that had fallen into her face. Josh made her feel so special and loved. He always had. What was the matter with her? Why couldn't that be enough?

Another girl would be glad to have him. He wasn't gorgeous, but he had a nice face and a strong, athletic build. He'd been president of the Varsity Club in high school, and he'd been their fastest track runner. But he wasn't a superjock, or a macho jerk. He was quiet and thoughtful, and he laughed genuinely at all her jokes. Everyone liked him. And Carrie personally knew of two girls who would gladly take her place.

I've been out on a few dates. Carrie reread the line. It wouldn't be long before some girl grabbed him; if not this summer, then at Stanford University in the fall. How would she feel then? She might be letting the nicest guy she'd ever meet slip right through her fingers.

Closing her eyes, she lifted her face to the warming rays of the sun. All right, Josh. We'll get back together. It mil just be me and you forever. How would it feel if she said that?

Safe.

Comfortable.

Like a kind of death.

That was the problem. She'd told him they were too young, that they both needed to date a little before they made a decision. At the time she'd thought she was being honest. But now she knew there had been more to it.

Way down, she had known she was looking for something Josh could never give her.

She was looking for someone to make her feel the way Billy did. Alive. Reckless.

s.e.xual.

Folding the letter, Carrie slipped it back in her book. She'd write to Josh, but not just yet. It was important to think more about exactly what she wanted to say to him. Instead she turned to her novel and read for a while.

At twelve-thirty she went down to the garage and got into the Jaguar. The letter from Josh had gotten her down. The Jaguar always cheered her up. Soon she was driving along the sh.o.r.e road with her hair blowing and nothing on her mind but the beauty of the clear isIand bay.

Sam rode her bike into the parking lot of the Cheap Boutique just as Carrie pulled in. The Cheap Boutique was a wood-frame building on the less-chic bay side of the isIand. It was inexpensive by Sunset IsIand standards, if not exactly cheap. It did boast a terrific selection of trendy, funky clothing, much of which was very affordable.

In an attempt to hide her wealth, and blend in with the regular kids, Emma had completely reoutfitted herself at the Cheap Boutique shortly after arriving on the isIand. Sam shopped there so frequently that she was on a first-name basis with the salesgirls. But Carrie had never bought anything there. She'd come with all she needed, half of it from the L. L. Bean catalog, the other half from the Gap. Good, basic clothes-nothing too flashy or remotely daring.

”Got the Jag, I see,” Sam remarked, chaining her rented bike to the bike rack.

”I got a letter from Josh,” Carrie said as she joined her. ”Now I've got the guilts about breaking up with him. I hope I did the right thing.” ”Yeah, I guess it's hard,” Sam said sympathetically. ”I mean, you were each other's first, and all. But, come on, Billy is here and Josh isn't. Besides, Josh is the past and Billy is the future. Let's go find you the most mind-blowing bathing suit on the face of the earth.” They climbed the wooden stairs and stepped into the cluttered store. Posters and Day-Glo art decorated the walls, and rock music blared from the sound system. Racks of clothing were jammed closely together.

Hats, scarves, beach bags, and jewelry hung from pegs on the wall.

”Hi, Sam,” a salesgirl named Beth called out from behind the register. ”What are you on the prowl for today?” ”My friend Carrie needs a bathing suit guaranteed to fry the male brain at fifty feet.” Beth laughed. ”Oh, is that all? All our suits are on sale. They're at the back of the store by the dressing rooms.

Holler if you need help.” Sam grabbed Carrie's wrist and pulled her to the back.

With her keen eye, she began sorting through the rack. ”Too small, too boring, bad color for you, oh, yuck, horrendous,” she mumbled as she picked through the large selection of suits. Every once in a while she'd pull one out, study it, then wrinkle her nose with distaste and return it to the rack. Carrie felt like a shopping novice as she slowly looked over the bathing suits.

At the end of five minutes Carrie and Sam had each pulled three suits out of the rack. Carrie held up hers to show Sam at the same time Sam held up the three she'd picked.

”You're kidding!” the two girls said in unison.

”Oh, Be-eth,” Sam called out in a high, singsong voice. ”I need your he-elp.”

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