How, I wondered a little while later, had I ever not looked forward to moving here? Sitting on a blanket Adam had extricated from the trunk of his car, watching the joggers and the evening surfers, the Frisbee-catching dogs and the tourists with their cameras, I felt better than I had in a long time. It might have been the fact that I was still operating on about four hours of sleep. It might have been that the heavy odor of brine was clouding my senses. But I really felt, for the first time in what seemed like forever, at peace.
Which was weird, considering the fact that in a few hours, I was going to be doing battle with the forces of evil.
But until then, I decided to enjoy myself. I turned my face toward the setting sun, feeling its warming rays on my cheeks, and listened to the roaring of the waves, the shrieking of the gulls, and the chatter of Cee Cee and Adam.
"So I said to her, Claire, you're nearly forty. If you and Paul want to have another kid, you had better hurry. Time is not on your side." Adam sipped a latte he'd picked up from a coffee shop near where we'd parked. "And she was all, 'But your father and I don't want you to feel threatened by the new baby,' and I was like, 'Claire, babies don't threaten me.' You know what makes me feel threatened? Steroid-popping Neanderthals like Brad Ackerman. They threaten me."
Cee Cee shot Adam a warning look, then looked at me. "How are you getting along with your new stepbrothers, Suze?"
I tore my eyes away from the setting sun. "All right, I guess. Does Do – I mean, Brad really take steroids?"
Adam said, "I shouldn't have mentioned that. I'm sorry. I'm sure he doesn't. All those guys on the wrestling team, though – they scare me. And they're so homophobic … well, you can't help wondering about their sexual orientation. I mean, they all think I'm gay, but you wouldn't catch me in a pair of tights grabbing at some other guy's inner thigh."
I felt a need to apologize for my stepbrother, and did so, adding, "I'm not so sure he's gay. He got very excited when Kelly Prescott called the other night and invited us to her pool party on Saturday."
Adam whistled, and Cee Cee said unexpectedly, "Well, well, well. Are you sure this blanket is good enough for you? Maybe you would prefer a cashmere beach blanket. That's what Kelly and all her friends sit on."
I blinked at them, realizing I'd just committed a faux pas. "Oh, I'm sorry. Kelly didn't invite you guys? But I just assumed she was inviting all the sophomores."
"Certainly not," Cee Cee said with a sniff. "Just the sophomores with status, which Adam and I definitely lack."
"But you," I said, "are the editor of the school paper."
"Right," Adam said. "Translate that into dork and you'll have an idea why we've never been invited to any of Princess Kelly's pool parties."
"Oh," I said. I was quiet for a minute, listening to the waves. Then I said, "Well, it's not like I was planning on going."
"You weren't?" Cee Cee's eyes bugged out behind her glasses.
"No. At first because I had a date with Bryce, which is off now. But now because … well, if you guys aren't going, who would I talk to?"
Cee Cee leaned back on the blanket. "Suze," she said. "Have you ever considered running for class VP?"
I laughed. "Oh, right. I'm the new kid, remember?"
"Yeah," Adam said. "But there's something about you. I saw real leadership potential in the way you trounced Debbie Mancuso yesterday. Guys always admire girls who look as if any minute they might punch another girl in the mouth. We just can't help it." He shrugged. "Maybe it's in the genes."
"Well," I said with a laugh. "I'll certainly take it under advisement. I did hear a rumor Kelly was planning on blowing the entire class budget on some kind of dance – "
"Right." Cee Cee nodded. "She does that every year. The stupid spring dance. It's so boring. I mean, if you don't have a boyfriend, what is the point? There's nothing to do there but dance."
"Wait," Adam said. "Remember that time we brought the water balloons?"
"Well," Cee Cee amended. "Okay, that year was fun."
"I was kind of thinking," I heard myself saying, "that something like this might be better. You know. A cookout at the beach. Maybe a couple of them."
"Hey," Adam said. "Yeah! And a bonfire! The pyro in me has always wanted to do a bonfire on the beach."
Cee Cee said, "Totally. That's totally what we should do. Suze, you've got to run for VP."
Holy smoke, what had I done? I didn't want to be sophomore class VP! I didn't want to get involved! I had no school spirit – I had no opinion on anything! What was I doing? Had I lost my mind?
"Oh, look," Adam said, pointing suddenly at the sun. "There it goes."
The great orange ball seemed to sink into the sea as it began its slow descent below the horizon. I didn't see any splashing or steam, but I could have sworn I heard it hit the water's surface.
"There goes the sun," Cee Cee sang softly.
"Da da da da da," Adam said.
"There goes the sun." I joined in.
Okay, I have to admit, it was kind of childish, sitting there singing, watching the sun go down. But it was also kind of fun. Back in New York, we used to sit in the park and watch the undercover cops arrest drug dealers. But that wasn't anywhere near as nice as this, singing happily on a beach as the sun went down.
Something strange was happening. I wasn't sure what it was.
"And I say," the three of us sang, "it's all right!"
And, strangely enough, at that moment, I actually believed it would be. All right, I mean.
And that's when I realized what was happening:
I was fitting in. Me, Susannah Simon, mediator. I was fitting in somewhere for the first time in my life.
And I was happy about it. Really happy. I actually believed, just then, that everything was going to be all right.
Boy, was I ever in denial.