Surfside Sisters(8)
The three cheerleaders did about-faces, flipping their short pleated skirts.
“Oh, Sebastian, hi!”
“Hi,” Sebastian said.
He leaned down, put his mouth next to Keely’s ear, and whispered, “Just go with this, right?”
Keely nodded.
Diane, the leader of the pack, cooed at Isabelle. “If you ever think you’d like to try out for cheerleader next year, we’d love to teach you the basics. And you, too, Keely.”
“Thanks,” Isabelle said. She was turning burgundy, and Keely knew Isabelle was holding her breath to keep from laughing.
Sebastian said, “Keely won’t have any free time.”
He bent down, getting his face right in front of Keely’s, and kissed her sweetly, but firmly, on her mouth.
On her mouth!
His lips were soft and warm. He smelled like the Ivory soap all the Maxwells used, mixed with a very enticing aroma of warm male.
When he pulled away, Keely kept her eyes on the ground, knowing she didn’t dare look at Isabelle. Sebastian pulled her tighter against him, so her cheek nestled against his chest. She knew her face was red.
She could hear his heart beat.
“Okay, then,” Diane said pertly. “Isabelle, give us a call. Byeeee.”
The three cheerleaders sauntered away, chattering.
“OMG, you guys!” Isabelle whispered. “Sebastian, you are the most fabulous brother in the world!”
“Those girls are witches,” Sebastian said. “Don’t let them get to you.”
“You can let go of Keely now,” Isabelle said. Reaching over, she put her hand on Keely’s arm and yanked her away.
Isabelle’s expression jolted Keely from her state of shock.
“Yeah, thanks, Sebastian,” she croaked.
“Anytime,” Sebastian said with a sideways quirk of his mouth. He loped away.
Keely did a few yoga breaths and gathered her thoughts. “You could be a cheerleader!”
“I don’t want to be a cheerleader,” Isabelle said stormily. “I don’t want to be a cutesy snob.”
“I don’t, either,” Keely said, still so stunned she could scarcely speak. She opened her locker and took out her backpack, organizing what books she had to take home. She couldn’t begin to think what to say to Isabelle about Sebastian kissing her. If Isabelle weren’t Sebastian’s sister, if Isabelle didn’t kind of own Sebastian, Keely might have been honest. Sebastian kissed me, she might have said.
Isabelle stood with her hands on her hips, like a mad mom or a soccer coach. “And I hope you’re not going to get all stupid because my brother kissed you. You know he was only pretending so those girls wouldn’t dis you. He only did it because you’re my friend and he knows how much you mean to me.”
“I know that!” Keely couldn’t say his name without blushing. She rolled her eyes. “Those girls. What brats.”
They shouldered their backpacks, slammed and locked their lockers, and strolled to Keely’s house. Her mother had the day off and always made chocolate chip cookies.
* * *
—
In December, along with their friends, Keely and Isabelle were allowed to go to the Cape on the Iyanough ferry by themselves, without parents. During the trip over, they snickered like excited five-year-olds. They took a cab to the mall and shopped for Christmas presents and had fattening French fries and enormous Cokes at the food court. As they ate, they watched the other shoppers, especially the terrifyingly cool Cape girls, walk by. These teens wore jeans with high heels. They wore shirts that stopped at their midriffs even though it was winter. They tossed their long hair carelessly and bent toward each other, whispering. Tall, cool boys in down jackets and hoodies came along and they clustered together, sometimes breaking off in pairs, a boy running his hand up beneath a girl’s shirt.
Keely had never felt so immature. During the ferry ride back to the island, Keely and Isabelle were quiet, absorbed in their own thoughts. They’d always thought they were so cool, and they were, but they were only fake cool. They yearned to be cooler.
And dreaded it.
Over the winter and spring, they spent more time with their other friends, Janine and Theresa and Ceci. They became a clique, which they proudly designated as the Smart Girls. The ones who wanted to go to college, who did not want to get pregnant in high school, who cared more about books and volunteering and cleaning the beaches than flirting with guys or getting drunk or choosing the color of their nail polish. Of course they were hiding their interest in boys, or at least pretending to. The girls were dealing with changing bodies, zits and menstrual periods, mood swings that came upon them without warning, like a gale force wind. They cried a lot, and didn’t really know why. They ate a disgusting amount of junk food, sometimes the five of them devouring Cheetos and Ben & Jerry’s and a Pepperidge Farm cake in the same evening.
Suddenly summer arrived. Windows and doors all over town opened. They were freed from school! Everyone but Isabelle took a job to save money for college. Isabelle went off with her family to Scotland.
“She’s so lucky,” Ceci complained one hot afternoon when she and Keely had finished their work for Clean Sweep house cleaning. They were gathered in Ceci’s air-conditioned family room. “She always gets to go someplace amazing. Paris last year. Scotland this year. It’s hard to like her sometimes.”