Surfside Sisters(5)

“You’re right. We’ll do it,” Sebastian said.

Keely grinned.

They were late to the contest. All up and down the beach, people were on their knees, shaping and patting the sand. Keely and Sebastian locked their bikes to the stand and raced down the beach to an open space at the far end.

First they carried buckets of sand to their spot. The sand had to be just right, damp enough to hold its shape but not so sodden it crumbled. Sebastian drew an outline in the sand and they began molding the gigantic body of the whale. The tail was the most difficult, so Sebastian had it raised and slanted to show the entire fluke.

Keely’s eyes kept straying from the sand to Sebastian’s tanned hands and body. It was so intimate, working next to him like this. She could hear him breathe. She had to get him out of her sight.

She had to distract herself. “I’ll build a baby whale here, below the mother.”

“Fine,” Sebastian said, bent over his whale.

He probably thought a baby whale was a girly idea. Good, Keely told herself. Because she was young and girly and hopelessly not in his league.

The sun rose high in the sky. They took quick dips in the water to cool off before getting back to work. At the end of the day, they were exhausted. Their structure didn’t win—a group of college guys had built a miniature Main Street—but their whales did get photographed for the newspaper. Their theme was so Nantucket and if she said so herself, and she did, the baby whale, with its smile, was adorable.

    In the late afternoon, they biked to the Maxwell house. They took turns using the outdoor shower. Keely went around to the back deck to dry off. She collapsed in one of the Maxwells’ fancy cushioned chairs.

“You guys!” Isabelle stomped out on the porch, arms folded over her chest, pouting. “Why didn’t you call me? I wanted to help.”

“You were with Mom at Dr. Robert’s,” Sebastian yelled.

“Show me your braces!” Keely demanded.

“Don’t have them yet. It’s such a major project.” Isabelle flopped into a chair next to Keely.

Sebastian came up the back steps, dripping from his shower, his towel wrapped around his waist, the sun gilding his hair. He’d acquired muscles over the summer. His shoulders were broader, his thighs thicker. The sight did something funny to her stomach. She looked away.

“You are SO going to have a sunburn all over your back,” Isabelle told her brother.

Sebastian shrugged. “Call me when you start the movie.”

It had become a custom for the three of them to spend the Maxwells’ second night back with fish dinners from Sayle’s and a movie. Keely and Isabelle said it couldn’t be too scary and Sebastian said it couldn’t be too romantic and it really couldn’t be a musical. They agreed on Dude, Where’s My Car? The girls both had mad crushes on Ashton Kutcher. Keely made sure Isabelle was in the middle of the sofa, between her and Sebastian. If she sat next to Sebastian, her leg might touch his. It frightened her even to think about that.

As always, Keely phoned her parents and got permission to spend the night at Isabelle’s. The Maxwell house had central air. What a lush luxury it was to slide into the silky sheets beneath a light down comforter in the twin bed in Isabelle’s room.

    Life was back to normal, Keely thought, and she was smiling as she fell asleep.



* * *



—

When Keely was eleven, Sebastian did something extraordinary.

The Maxwell family had spent February vacation in Eleuthera, and Isabelle had brought Keely a cute T-shirt, like that could compensate for the difference between their two lives. Yet Keely didn’t want to be all pitiful. First of all, that would be lame and icky. She’d keep her self-pity to herself, thank you very much. No one liked a whiner. But second, and really more important, Keely had loved this past week when most of her friends were gone and there was no school and she checked out a big fat pile of novels from the library and she’d spent her days and much of her nights lost in worlds that required as a passport only the ability to read.

And she came up with a totally cool project.

Keely and Isabelle were in the Maxwells’ dining room on a frigid, gray Sunday morning. Sebastian had taken over the den to play the videogames he’d missed on vacation. Mrs. Maxwell was shopping for groceries, and Mr. Maxwell was, as always, at work.

“So, Isabelle, now that you’re all tanned and fabulous, let me tell you what I did all week.”

“What?”

“I’ve started a newspaper!”

“We have a newspaper.”

“No, the town has a newspaper. The adults have a newspaper. Kids don’t.”

“How are you going to make a newspaper? You’re eleven.”

“I’ll show you.” Keely unzipped her backpack and pulled out a sheaf of papers she’d stapled together. “Look.”

The first page said simply: THE BUZZ.

The second page headline read: AUDITIONS FOR THE SPRING PRODUCTION OF ANNIE. The column told where and when the auditions were being held, and continued with a short summary of the musical, followed by a brief recap of past productions.

    The third page was headlined LETTERS TO THE EDITOR. There was one letter, which read, Dear Editor, I’m not that fussy about what I eat, but I wish the cafeteria would put real cheese in the macaroni and cheese instead of the orange superglue they use. I’m writing this because I can’t talk because my teeth are stuck together. Hopefully, Glenda.