Part 2 (1/2)

I opened my mouth to say that I could sympathize, but he went on. ”Like today, I ran down to those rocks all day long because he wants us to be *proactive,' because he thinks that if someone has to be rescued, the guard wasn't doing his job in the first place. Then I look like a dumb-a.s.s, telling people they need to come in from the rocks, when they can see there's no problem.” I nodded, able to recite my dad's philosophy about lifeguarding in my mind.

”So today he comes down to my tower as I'm getting back from one of my laps to the rocks, and he tell s me that every time I run down there, the rest of the water isn't being watched. You just can't make the guy happy. I don't know what his problem is.” Tyler shook his head. ”He needs to get laid or something.” I laughed, a little too loudly. ”Anyway, that's the story of my life. What's yours?”

”Well -” Before I could get anything else out, I heard behind us the familiar hum of a truck on the sand. We both stopped, and I hoped desperately it was the other lifeguard. For the last few years, every summer had begun with a lecture about staying away from the guards on the beach. They were only out for one thing, etcetera, etcetera.

”s.h.i.+t,” Tyler said under his breath. ”Speak of the devil.” The truck pulled up next to me, and my dad stuck his head out. Of course.

”Hey, hon. See you met one of our rookies.”

I cringed, probably visibly, both at being outed and at my dad's obvious inability to remember little details. I smiled tightly and snuck a sidelong glance at Tyler, who was fumbling for his composure. Funny, considering the way he had carried himself a few seconds earlier.

”Yeah. Dad, this is Tyler. It's actually his second year here, so technically he's not a rookie anymore. He was just showing me around.” Tyler gave a nod.

My dad looked at his red trunks, unimpressed.

”Huh. well, if you're gonna walk around here off duty, you need to change out of your uniform first.” Tyler stammered. ”Oh, y-yeah.... Sorry. It won't happen again.” We were all silent for a few awkward seconds.

”Well, I'm headed home, hon. Why don't you hop in and I'll give you a ride back to the house?” He smiled broadly, but it wasn't a question.

”Nah. I think I'll walk.” It was worth a try, seeing as we were being so civil at the moment.

He cleared his throat. ”Nah. I think you should get in.” still smiling ... ”We've got a few things to take care of this evening.” He looked at me straight on.

Tyler s.h.i.+fted next to me. I was beat, unless I wanted to start a battle.

I turned back to Tyler and rolled my eyes before putting out my hand. ”Well, thanks for the tour. It was nice to meet you.” The faintest trace of a smirk crossed his face before he cleared his throat and shook my hand.

”You too. Stay off the rocks next time, or your dad'll kill me.” We all forced a little laugh, and I walked around the truck and hopped into the pa.s.senger seat, dropping my stuff beside me. My dad pulled a U-turn around Tyler, gave him a wave, and we trundled away. I waited until we were a short distance off.

”Nice, Dad. Thanks.”

”Don't start,” he said flatly. ”He's a lifeguard. And you're my daughter. That's as good as it gets.”

”And that makes sense how again? I don't get it. I really don't.” I paused. It was always right there, on the tip of my tongue when we had this talk. This time I said it. ”You were a lifeguard when Mom married you. What was so bad about that?” I regretted it the instant I said it.

He didn't say anything at first. Just looked out the window. But I knew by his voice when he spoke that I'd hit a nerve. ”Anna. Don't.” The moment felt far more serious than I'd meant it to get. More than seemed reasonable. I looked at my lap. ”Okay. I get it.” I didn't at all, but I didn't want to go any further than I just had. I waved my hand casually. ”It wasn't anything, anyway. I met a girl on the beach, too. She somehow talked me into joining the cross-country team. First practice is tomorrow.”

He brightened a bit, but it seemed forced. ”Really?”

”Yeah. She seemed nice.” I watched him out of the corner of my eye as he steered us up onto the road in front of our cottage.

He put the truck in park and turned it off, then looked out at the water, sparkling gold and gla.s.sy from the setting sun. ”Wanna paddle out?” I knew that meant we were done and that we'd smooth over the surface I'd just tossed a rock into. But even the waves that crash down on the beach start out as tiny ripples, far out at sea.

They just gain strength over time.

CHAPTER 5.

My dreams made the night long. It'd been a while since I'd dreamed of her, but the effect was always the same. I'd just gotten better at dealing with it. By the time my dad poked his head into my room, I had already taken enough deep breaths to calm myself down and appear sleepy rather than shaken.

”Hey, Anna. Time to get up. Don't wanna be late the first day of practice.” He was already in his uniform, coffee cup in hand.

I rubbed my eyes, wondering why in the world I had agreed to go. Dad disappeared into the hall way, and I heard his feet make their way over the wood floor to the living room. I lay back and looked at the ceiling. Meeting Ashley the day before seemed far away, and deciding to join the cross-country team out of the blue, on my first day in town, suddenly felt ridiculous. My stomach fluttered. Stupid.

I swung my legs out of bed and walked over to the pile of running clothes I had laid out the night before. Groggily I pulled on my shorts, aware that they were old and faded, just like the tank top I put on next. I sighed and tucked the red pendant that hung from my neck into it. When I bent to tie my shoes and got a good look at their cracked leather and balding soles, I resolved to get new everything before the next practice. Then I thought of Ashley and wondered if Prada made running clothes.

”See ya, hon! Have a good one!” my dad called. I heard the back door shut.

”Bye,” I said to the quiet of the house. In the kitchen he'd left a bowl of steaming oatmeal and a twenty-dollar bill on the counter. I looked at the clock, shoveled a few bites into my mouth, and then grabbed the twenty and my keys and headed out the door. Our VW bus that had looked so perfect in front of the cottage now stood, slightly rusty and a little pathetic when I thought of rolling into the Coast High School parking lot. I dismissed the thought, annoyed at myself that I was already caring about what a bunch of people I had never met would think. It would be hard not to, though, if Ashley was any indication. I started the engine and crawled up the hill to the PCH, reminding myself that it didn't matter-that I had friends back home who were real, down-to-earth people. I just wished I could take them with me. Once on the highway, with the windows rolled down and the music cranked up, I started to feel a little better. Enough to even entertain the thought that joining the team could be a good thing. I didn't exactly want to spend my entire junior year alone.

The only car in the parking lot was a sparkly pearl white BMW. Had to be Ashley. Or everyone here was descended from privilege. I shook my head and parked my bus right next to it, kind of my own little statement-no use disguising the gulf between our backgrounds. As soon as I cut the engine, the pa.s.senger door of the BMW swung open, and Ashley waved excitedly from the driver's seat. I waved back, relieved it was her, and got out.

”Hey! I hope you don't mind, but I told you that practice started a half hour earlier than it actually does, because I wanted to make sure we got to talk first.

Get in. I got you a coffee.” She held up a Starbucks cup. ”I read that Lance Armstrong totally drinks coffee before a workout because it gives you a big boost. If we drink it now, it should be perfect timing for our run.”

As I had done the day before, I smiled and held back the laugh at the back of my throat. ”Thanks.” I took the coffee, ducked into the door, and sank into soft white leather. The inside of the car was warm and smelled like the perfume section of a department store.

”I got it skinny, just so you know.”

”Skinny?”

”You know, nonfat milk, sugar-free vanilla?” she said nonchalantly. ”Anyway, you didn't eat breakfast, right, because this will be our first calorie-burning run.”

”Nope,” I lied. ”Nothing but fat to burn here.” I patted my stomach, wondering if it pooched out at all.

”Good.” She looked in the rearview mirror as another car pulled up. I was relieved that it was a nondescript black something-or-other. ”Oh, that's Jillian.

She's supposed to be really fast. Her sister was faster, though, but she died in a car accident a few years ago.” She pulled a tube of mascara out of her purse and began applying it in the rearview mirror. ”So. Sad.”

”How do you know all this? I thought you were new.” I eyed Jillian as she got out of her car. She was average-looking-brown hair in a ponytail, regular running clothes, serious expression, confident walk. Nothing out of the ordinary. It made me wonder how I looked to people who knew about my mom.

”New to the school. I've lived here all my life. My brother graduated from here last year. He ran for them.” She finished with her mascara and moved on to a tube of lip gloss. ”He talked to Coach Martin yesterday, and he's expecting us.”

”What's he expecting?” I picked nervously at the edge of my plastic coffee lid. Before I finished my question, a white truck pulled up. The driver was a man, midforties, who wore a baseball cap and sungla.s.ses. Ashley shoved her lip gloss into her bag.

”That's him. Come on!” She squeezed my leg and hopped out of the car, waving to Coach Martin like he was a long-lost friend. He didn't look up from whatever he was fumbling with on the seat of his truck. I sighed and put my coffee cup in the holder, then swung my legs out of the car.

A few more cars had pulled up, and girls-juniors and seniors, I a.s.sumed-got out and greeted each other. It was easy to see which ones hadn't seen each other in a while by the enthusiastic hugs and instant chatter. None of them wore makeup like Ashley, and that made me feel better, like I might actually be in the right place. Like she might be the one who was out of place. Girls miled around in twos and threes, absently stretching and shaking out their legs as they talked. No one said anything to us.

It was earlier than I wanted to be awake, but I was abuzz with nervous energy. I kicked my foot up behind me and stretched my quad. Ashley, who stood next to me in hot pink running shoes and an outfit to match, looked over and did the same. Almost. When she grabbed her foot, she wobbled for a split second before using me as her last hope to avoid hitting the asphalt of the school parking lot. We both went down with a thud, and Coach Martin finally looked at us. He walked over casually.

”Miss Whitmore. This must be your friend I heard about.” He looked directly at me. ”What's your name?” It felt like a trick question.

”Anna Ryan. I just moved here from up north. I, uh ...” I fumbled, not sure if I should add more. He stared, waiting for me to finish. I had been right about the midforties guess. Silver hair peeked out from under his hat, and I was sure that if he'd taken off his gla.s.ses, his eyes would have shown his age. In any case, he had an athletic build that looked like he meant business. ”I ...”

Luckily, he rescued me. ”You want to run, right?” I nodded. ”Well, let's see what you can do. Miss Whitmore, I'll be watching to see what you can do too.” His voice carried a note of sarcasm that set off a few knowing glances among the girls. I watched, trying to get a read on whether those glances applied to me by default, since I'd showed up with Ashley. Nice as she was, I wasn't sure I wanted to be put in the same category they'd probably decided she belonged in.