The Rest of the Story(104)

“Or,” Nana said, “we could leave it all to the Club and just show up. That sounds easier, doesn’t it?”

My dad did not look convinced. But instead of saying so, he looked at me. “So. Think you’ll be leaving the suite today?”

I was confused. “I’m grounded.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean you have to sit in your room all day long,” he said. “Tracy says there’s a band you might like playing at the Pavilion for the Fourth.”

More confusion. “I can go to the Pavilion?”

“Yes,” he said, and while it was all I could do not to get to my feet right that second, before he changed his mind, I resisted. “But there are ground rules. Number one, you will stay on Tides or Club property. And if at any point I can’t reach you, then you will be inside until we leave. Are we clear?”

“Crystal,” I said. Across the table, Nana had her eyes on me. “Thanks, Dad.”

He nodded, and then I did get up, thanking Nana as well as I pushed in my chair, then headed back to my room. The last thing I saw before going inside was him sitting down, then speaking in a lowered voice to my grandmother, who said something quietly in return. Probably better I wasn’t there anyway. Nana worked best on her own.

In my room, I put on my bathing suit, then a sundress, before digging my flip-flops out from the closet. Through the window, I could see the Club attendants down on the sand, distributing towels to the chairs. It was only just after eight a.m., but I figured I should go while I had the chance, as there was no telling when my dad might change his mind.

Both he and Nana were gone when I came back through the living room, their plates being cleared by a woman in a Tides Golf shirt and a black skirt. “Happy Fourth of July,” she said as I slipped past to the door.

“To you, too,” I told her. Outside, a cleaning cart was parked by the elevators, and I looked it over, thinking of the rickety ones back at Calvander’s, which usually sported at least one loose, wobbling wheel. This one might as well have been a sports car, chrome and sleek. Linens were folded below, toiletries and room supplies above, everything separated into neat, labeled categories. The spray bottles had Tides logos, but no names.

Downstairs, out on the back patio, I slipped on my sunglasses, then looked around, getting my bearings, before starting out to the pool. I was scoping out the perfect chair when I heard someone call my name. I turned around to see Colin and Blake heading down to the Club dock via a walkway that was right behind me. Great.

“Heard you were staying here,” Colin said, clearly oblivious to the fact that I outright disliked him. Blake, behind him, remained silent, making me think he was still annoyed from the night of the party.

“Yep,” I said mildly. All I wanted was to get away from them.

“Well, Fourth of July means it’s going to be nuts. And that’s not even counting the fireworks tonight. You going to the cookout?” Colin asked.

I nodded. “I got sprung, finally. Been grounded in the room for the last few days.”

“Well, we’re having a door party at Campus after the fireworks, if you want to come. Kind of a tradition.”

“What’s a door party?”

“Like bar golf, but with rooms, basically,” he replied. “Different drinks in each room. There’s a scorecard. Hit them all, get a prize.”

“What’s the prize?”

“Being wasted,” Blake said, finally joining in the conversation. “And bragging rights.”

“Yeah, I can’t see that happening,” I said as a man in madras shorts and a pink shirt passed by, talking into his phone in an irritated voice. “Drinking and parties is what got me grounded in the first place. I kind of have to lay low.”

“Oh, right,” Colin said. “Well, there’s also this great band at the Pavilion midday. Spinnerbait. Should be fun. You heard of them?”

I shook my head. “Nope. My stepmother mentioned it, though.”

“They play all the time at East U. You’ll like them.” He said this so confidently, like he knew me well, that I decided right then that I wouldn’t. “You know if Bailey’s coming?”

I just looked at him. So that explained the friendliness. “No.”

“Well, if she does, you guys should come by the docks,” he said. “Say hello.”

“Better hop,” Blake said to Colin, nodding at a motorboat that was approaching the docks. “We were supposed to be on two minutes ago.”

“Right,” he replied. To me he said, “Good seeing you, Saylor.”

“You, too.”

Blake didn’t say anything as they headed down the walkway, now at a faster clip, to meet the boat that had just arrived. Jerks, I thought, just as my phone rang. It was the toll-free number I’d come to recognize, and I smiled before I even answered it.

“Good morning, ma’am! My name is Chris and I’m calling to talk about your home’s defense against the coming storm season. Do you have a moment?”

“I do,” I said, settling into a beach chair I’d picked and stretching out my legs. “Go right ahead.”

“Perfect! Well, I’ll begin by telling you a little bit about . . . okay, sorry about that. We’re only open for a half day today for the holiday, but Juan still thinks someone sitting home feeling patriotic might bite.”