One word. Bacon.
I wouldn't have seriously considered getting out of bed if it hadn't been for the smell of bacon grease that drifted up to my bedroom from the kitchen downstairs. When I came padding into the kitchen, I found Rachel standing at the stove, a spatula in her hand and her body wrapped in a fluffy white robe.
"Good morning, Waverly!" she greeted.
"What time is it?" I yawned and rolled up onto my tiptoes to peerover at the strips of bacon laid out in the pan she was tending to.
"It's almost eight o'clock," Rachel told me, pointing towards the clock mounted over the kitchen window. "You should have some breakfast and go get dressed as fast as you can. I'llgive you a lift into town before I drive down to Marlin Bay."
Right. Rachel had that mural to work on.
We sat down together at her kitchen table and feasted on bacon, toaster waffles, and coffee. When we were stuffed, Rachel gave me a pair of large khaki shorts and a short-sleeved shirt. It wasn't too hot outside yet since the sun had only been up for two or three hours, but it was still warm enough that I started sweating the second I stepped outside onto the front porch. Rachel hurried down to her neon green Volkswagen, tangled brown curls bounding around her shoulders and her purse tucked underneath her arm.
"Come on, Waverly! Lots to see, lots to do!"
As we pulled out of the driveway, I glanced back at the pale green house next to Rachel's. For a second, I held my breath, wishing that the front door would swing open and a certain blue-eyed boy would be standing there.
Why was I like this?
I closed my eyes and turned forward in my seat, sinking down into the soft leather. Blake Hamilton did not want to see me again. He'd made that pretty clear. So why did I want to see him? Why did I feel like, if he just talked to me for more than thirty seconds, maybe I could prove I meant no harm. I was being stupid. But before I had too much time to start overanalyzing every word Blake Hamilton said to me the day before, Rachel made a sharp turn, sending me flying towards the car door with a smack. I moaned and cradled my head where it had made contact with the window.
"Oops," Rachel said, "Sorry."
I had almost forgotten how bad of a driver Rachel was. Almost.
"It's okay," I told her, forcing a smile. Ithink it ended up looking more like a grimace.
"Are you alright? No concussion or anything?" she asked.
"I'm fine," I told her, gingerly prodding the spot on my forehead where I could already feel a bump forming, "Really.I'm sure I can walk it off."
"Yes! Walking's good. Lots of walking to do in town. Maybe you can do some shopping today, get some ice cream, sit on the beach. I want you to have fun here in Holden. Maybe you can go buy yourself a bathing suit today!"
I opened my mouth to remind Rachel that I didn't need a bathing suit because I couldn't swim to save my life, but suddenly the car lurched to a stop. I flew forward and my seatbelt knocked the air out of me, leaving me gasping.
"We're here!" Rachel announced.
"Great!" I croaked happily, less excited about arriving in town and more excited about not having to be in a car with Rachel, the world's worst driver, anymore.
We'd stopped along the curb in the middle of the Holden town center, the ocean to our left and a line of shops, each one painted a different pastel color, to our right. I watched people walk up and down the sidewalks and wished I'd stayed at Rachel's house all day.
"The ice cream parlor down there is really good," Rachel suggested, sensing my apprehension.
"I'm kinda full," I said.
"Well, there's a bookstore?"
Bingo.
With a burst of bravery and a sense of purpose, I said goodbye and climbed out of Rachel's car. A little flare of panic twisted my stomach as I watched her drive away, but I powered through it and marched down the sidewalk.
A bell tied to the door jingled as I slipped into the bookstore and found exactly what I'd hoped for—dark wood, rows of shelves, and sacred peace and quiet.
"Hi, can I help you find—"
I turned and found Lena Fletcher standing behind me, a name tag pinned to the front of her shirt and her hands busy rearranging a display of Stephen King novels.
Her eyes lit up. "Oh, hey! Waverly! What are you doing here?"
"I'm just—just browsing, I guess. My aunt has to work on this mural down in Marlin Bay, so she decided I'd need something to do."
"Well, you can totally hang with us!" Lena said.
"Us?"
"Yeah. Hey, Lisa?"
And just like that, my excitement was gone.
I turned to see none other than Alissa, Blake Hamilton's now ex-girlfriend, standing at the back of the shop, a stack of books in her arms. When she spotted me, she frowned in confusion. From her disheveled appearance and the dark purple rings under her eyes, I deduced that she was fighting a major hangover.
"Wemberly?" Alissa asked.
Close enough.
"It's Waverly," Lena spoke up. "Remember her from last night?"
Alissa still looked confused.
"She's visiting from Alaska? Her aunt lives next door to Blake—" Lena stopped speaking abruptly, face crumpling with regret. I frowned, trying to figure out what was wrong. And then, Alissa threw back her head and let out an agonized wail.
"He dumped me!" she howled.
The books tumbled out of her arms, landing in a heap on the floor. Lena rushed forward and gathered Alissa into a big bear hug as she sobbed, mascara trails running down her cheeks.
"It's okay, let it out," Lena cooed, patting Alissa's sleek black hair.
"And Ethan s-said he wasn't s-sure about u-us!" Alissa sobbed, "Do y-you know what this m-means? I'm a-alone!"
She let out another agonized wail.
I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes at her and point out the fact that she had been cheating on both Blake and this Ethan guy, and that they therefore had every right to reject her. But since Alissa seemed like she wasn't in the mood to face the harsh truth of the situation, I bit my tongue and let Lena comfort her.
"You know what you need?" Lena prompted, leaning back from Alissa.
"W-what?" Alissa sniffled.
"Ice cream!"
Alissa snorted.
"Ice cream is just empty calories," she mumbled, looking down at her feet and wiggling her hot-pink painted toenails in her flip flops.
"You deserve a little treat," Lena told her. "And I'm sure Jesse would love some company."
I frowned, trying to remember if anyone had mentioned a Jesse at the bonfire party.
"C'mon, Waverly. You can come, too. Let's go have some ice cream!" Lena declared, grabbing Alissa's tanned wrist and the sleeve of my shirt to drag us along with her. Alissa and I tried not to fall on our faces as Lena marched us out of the bookstore and down the street to the ice cream parlor Rachel had pointed out.
The air conditioning was blasting. I sighed in content and inhaled the cool air, letting it soothe my lung. Alissa, on the other hand, folded her arms over her chest and stomped her flip-flopped feet against the black-and-white tiled floor.
"It's too cold in here!" she whined.
"Quit being a baby," Lena laughed at her.
"Lena?"
The voice that came from across the room made me jump. I looked over at the counter. Standing behind the buckets of various flavors of ice cream was a tall, lanky boy with a mop of golden blonde curls on his head, freckles coating every inch of his body, and an ice-cream scooper in his left hand.
I knew at once that he was Lena Fletcher's brother.
"Hey, moron," Lena greeted, confirming my suspicion.
"What are you doing here?" Jesse asked, nose crinkling.
Lena, as inconspicuously as possible, motioned towards Alissa with her thumb. Jesse spotted the mascara-stained tear tracks on her face and his mouth formed a little o shape. Then he nodded at Lena to let her know that he understood what the problem was.
"Double chocolate fudge?" he asked Alissa.
"With sprinkles," she squeaked, collapsing onto the red-cushioned bench that ran along the wall of the parlor. Alissa rested her elbows on the black table in front of her and buried her face in her hands, letting out another heaving sob.
"I'm on it!" Jesse said, saluting us with the scooper in his hand before grabbing a little plastic cup from underneath the counter. Just as he dug the scooper into the giant vat of double chocolate fudge ice cream, Jesse looked up and frowned at me, "Who are you?"
"Oh! Right!" Lena said. "Waverly, this is my twin brother Jesse. Jesse, this is Waverly. She's Rachel Lyon's niece from Alaska."
"Hey," Jesse greeted me, a dorky smile spreading across his face.
"Jesse's an idiot, by the way," Lena told me.
"I am not!" Jesse protested, glaring at his sister.
"Are too!" Lena teased.
Jesse didn't have a good comeback, so he stuck his tongue out at her instead.
I chuckled, taking a seat at the same table as Alissa. Lena plopped down next me, sighing wearily as she watched Alissa's shoulders shake. She reached out a hand and placed it on Alissa's head, patting it softly.
"Cheer up, Lissa," she encouraged, "They're just boys."
"Who is?" Jesse asked from behind the counter.
He frowned curiously as he set a cup of ice cream onto the counter.
"None of your business," Lena snapped.
"Did I miss something last night?" Jesse asked, placing another cup onto the counter. I wondered why I hadn't seen him at the bonfire last night. You'd think I would have noticed the six-foot-four kid who looked like a male version of Lena.
"Blake dumped me!" Alissa wailed into her hands.
"He did?" Jesse asked, feigning shock. Alissa nodded, not picking up on his sarcasm. Jesse rolled his eyes and set down a third filled cup of ice cream on the counter.
"Don't be an asshole," Lena hissed at him.
"Come on, Lena, we all saw it coming," he mumbled.
With that, Alissa let out another wail and her head fell from her hands, landing with a rather loud thump against the table underneath her.
"Jesse!"
I was sure the twins were about to lunge at each other and start throwing punches, but luckily Lena decided against beating the snot out of her own brother.
"Whatever," she mumbled.
Jesse grabbed the three plastic cups of double chocolate fudge ice cream and four small spoons. He set the cups in front of the three of us and hesitated before sitting down next to Alissa at the table.
"Sorry," he mumbled.
Alissa didn't respond.
Jesse's eyes shifted around nervously before his gaze landed on me.
"So," he said, clearing his throat, "You're from Alabama?"
"Alaska," Lena snapped.
Jesse flinched.
"It's okay," I said. "They're easy to mix up."
Jesse beamed at me.
Obviously, he wasn't very used to people defending him.
"So, that's why you're all pale?" he asked me, pointing at my arms. Lena let out a little growl, and Jesse's eyes went wide as he hurried to correct himself. "Not that there's anything wrong with pale!"
His cheeks were bright red.
"Right," I chuckled.
I glanced sideways at Lena.
"So pathetic," she mumbled.
"What?" Jesse asked.
"Nothing." Lena snatched up a plastic spoon from the table and shoveled up a large chunk of ice cream from her cup. "I was just saying, Waverly's aunt dropped her off, so she's gonna hang with us today."
"Oh, cool," Jesse said, turning towards me again and grabbing a spoon, "So you'll be joining us for beach breaks?"
"Beach what?" I frowned.
Lena opened her mouth to respond, but paused to glare at Jesse as he dug his spoon into the side of her cup. She slapped his hand away.
"Hey!" he exclaimed, "Come on! Sharing is caring!"
Jesse scooped a lump of ice cream into his mouth before Lena could stop him. She scowled and turned back towards me, grabbing her cup and sliding it across the table so it was out of Jesse's reach.
"Beach breaks," she repeated, "are when we all go down to the beach at lunch."
"Who's we?" I asked.
"Me, Jesse, Alissa..." she trailed off, glancing over at Alissa, who was still faceplanted against the table.
"And Blake," Jesse finished.
Alissa let out a little squeal of dismay at his name.
"You're so insensitive!" Lena snapped. "Can't you go be a loser with someone else?"
"Hey! You guys are the ones that came in here! Why don't you leave?"
"I should."
"Be my guest!"
"Your face is my guest!"
"I can't believe he dumped me!" Alissa wailed.
"Would you just get over him already?" Jesse groaned.
"Don't be a douche bag, Jesse!"
"Your face is a douche bag!"
I looked down at the plastic cup of double chocolate fudge ice cream in front of me and started counting the number of visible chocolate chips. Never in my life had I been so glad that I was an only child.
But suddenly, all the yelling stopped.
I looked up, praying that Lena wasn't strangling Jesse or anything. But neither Jesse nor Lena had moved an inch in their seats; instead, they were both turned to stare at the door to the ice cream parlor behind me. Lena's hazel eyes were narrowed in disbelief while Jesse's identical eyes were wide with panic. Alissa lifted her head up just a fraction of an inch and let out a low moan when she spotted whatever was behind me.
I frowned and turned to look over my shoulder, wondering what could have evoked such intense reactions from the three of them.
There, standing in the doorway, was Blake.