Lovely Girls(6)

And yet. This trio of teens unnerved me. There was something almost predatory in the way they watched Alex while she signed her name in loopy letters and then set the pen down on the table. And what had Daphne meant when she called Alex a spy? I wanted to wrap one arm around my daughter and move her away from their view.

Stop it, Kate, I told myself. Just because one bad thing happened doesn’t mean there’s danger lurking everywhere. They’re just teenagers. Probably spoiled and self-centered, but certainly not evil.

“Daphne, what are you still doing here? You said you were only going to stay for an hour.” A woman appeared beside me, standing in front of the table. “You’re supposed to be working on your essay for your college applications.”

“Jesus, Mom, school hasn’t even started yet, and you’re already riding my ass about applications?” Daphne rolled her eyes.

I glanced at her mother, wondering how she’d respond to her daughter’s salty tone. She caught my eye and shared a wry smile. “Teenagers can be so charming, can’t they?” She held out a hand. “I’m Genevieve Hudson. I don’t think we’ve met.”

I took her hand. “Kate Turner. My daughter, Alex, and I just moved to town.”

Even if I hadn’t just heard Daphne call Genevieve Mom, I would have known they were related. The resemblance was uncanny, from their heart-shaped faces and dark-blue eyes to the golden shade of their hair. Genevieve had the sort of slim athletic figure that would probably make even sweatpants look stylish on her. She was dressed up, though, more so than most of the parents, wearing an emerald-green sheath dress and nude high-heeled sandals. She looked like a cable news anchor.

“Welcome to Shoreham,” Genevieve said. “Where did you move from?”

“Buffalo,” I said.

“That’s a big change. What brought you to Florida?”

I glanced at Alex, who was standing slightly behind me. She was slouching again and fidgeting with the ends of her hair. I suddenly realized that this was what was so unnerving about the girls sitting behind the table. Unlike most teenagers, who were always in motion, their energy in constant supply, these three were all sitting perfectly still. Not one of them was bouncing a foot or tossing her hair or touching up her lip gloss. They sat like a row of pretty dolls, staring coolly at us.

“We just needed a change of scenery,” I said lightly. “And I liked the idea of living somewhere with an endless summer.”

Genevieve laughed. “That’s certainly Shoreham. Sometimes it does feel endless, though, especially this time of year. August is always beastly hot, but I swear it’s worse than usual this year.”

“I’ll happily take the heat over six months of snow and freezing temperatures,” I said.

“Hello, Kate Turner,” a voice behind me said.

I turned and saw the man I’d met in the coffee shop standing there, smiling at me. I flushed, a bit embarrassed by how much I’d enjoyed talking to him.

“Hi, Joe,” I said.

“All the places in the world you could teleport to, and you pick orientation night at Shoreham High?” he asked.

“It was between here or Paris. It was a tough choice, but orientation night won by a hair.”

“Joe.” Genevieve smiled at him and briefly rested her hand on his arm. “How’ve you been? I haven’t seen you in ages.”

“Genevieve. Always a pleasure.”

There was a screech of a microphone that caused everyone to wince, followed by an announcement: “The orientation presentation is about to begin. Will everyone please begin to make their way to the auditorium. Thank you.”

“I need to track down my son,” Joe said, looking around. “I hope he didn’t sneak out, the little scamp. It was nice to see you both.”

Joe smiled at us, and then he turned and disappeared into the crowd.

“How do you know Joe?” Genevieve asked.

“I don’t really. I met him briefly,” I said. I glanced at Alex, who had her arms crossed in front of her. “I guess we should head in?”

“You go ahead,” Genevieve said. “The orientation speech is really just for incoming freshmen and new students like your daughter. I’m in charge of the homecoming committee, so I had to supervise that table. Oh! You should join my committee. Parents are required to put in a certain number of volunteer hours at the school, and trust me, my committee is a hell of a lot more fun than most of them. Whatever you do, steer clear of the PTA.”

“Why’s that?” I’d been involved with the parent-teacher association at Alex’s old school and had thought I’d probably do the same here.

“It’s a total shit show. There are two factions who have been vying for power for years. I’m surprised an out-and-out war hasn’t broken out yet.” Genevieve shook her head. “It’s a little terrifying how obsessive some of these mothers get.”

“Well, thanks, I’d love to join your committee,” I said impulsively. Alex wasn’t the only one who needed to start getting involved.

“Give me your number.”

I recited it, and Genevieve tapped my information into her phone.

“We’re meeting Tuesday morning. I’ll call you tomorrow with the details.”

“Great.” I turned to Alex. “We should probably go find a seat.”