Chapter 1 #2
I waved as I passed Stella Griffin and her boyfriend, Reece Suarez.
Stella and I had been in AP American History together, and I’d loved working on group projects with her—she was the most organized person I’d ever met.
She gave me a smile as I passed, and then I hurried to join Bryony, who was already lined up.
She was standing next to Amy Caruso, who, as usual, was pretzeled around her boyfriend, Carlos Cabello.
When I’d first arrived at Harbor Cove, Bryony had given me the scoop on them.
They were usually just called AmyandCarlos, one word, since they were always together.
It turned out they’d been dating since something like sixth grade, and you almost never saw them apart.
“Hey, you two,” Bryony said, and they broke apart with what looked like real reluctance.
“Hey,” Amy said. Carlos immediately nuzzled her neck, like even a few seconds not kissing was far too many to be borne. “You ready for this?”
I nodded. “I just had a latte. I’m good to stay up and ride all the rides.
” Bryony gave a very fake-sounding cough, and I felt my cheeks get hot.
“Fine. All the rides that don’t have big drops or go super fast.” I could handle things like Soarin’, and Radiator Springs Racers, but those were about my limit, and Bryony knew it.
We’d been to Disneyland twice together since I’d moved to Harbor Cove and learned the true joy of living so close to the park.
“You had a latte?” I turned around to see Sheridan Williams standing behind us. He was wearing an eye mask pushed up on his forehead and a skeptical expression.
“Uh…yeah,” I said, looking at Bryony and widening my eyes.
“Why do you have an eye mask?” she asked, as usual, reading my mind.
“So I can sleep on the bus,” Sheridan said, like this was the most normal thing in the world.
“It’s why you shouldn’t have caffeinated this early, Cass.
I’ve timed this out, because I want to be at my peak energy level once we arrive.
In addition to the rides, there’s a DJ in Cars Land, a karaoke stage, and a live band.
And I want to hit them all. I want to go without stopping until the moment we have to leave. ”
“Uh, sorry to barge in, but you should stop a little bit.” This was Ms. Mulaney, who’d been my English teacher.
She walked over to our group, and I smiled at her—I hadn’t known she was going to be one of our chaperones.
She was one of the very best teachers I’d ever had—and I had a very large sample size to pull from.
She welcomed me into her class, which focused on Dickens and Austen.
It had been one of the most interesting classes I’d ever taken, and unlike most of my teachers, she didn’t seem to mind that I peppered my essays with more random facts than were probably strictly necessary.
“After all,” Ms. Mulaney continued, “you have to pace yourself. This is the fifth Grad Nite I’ve chaperoned, and I’ve seen people try and go too hard…and then end up sleeping on a bench near the Ferris wheel at midnight.”
“Well,” Sheridan said, with a shrug, “we can just agree to disagree.” He turned away and walked over to join Manny Ortega.
“You’ve chaperoned five grad nights?” I asked.
“Sure have.”
“Wow.” Bryony turned to me. “I feel like this is a sign from the universe. I should become a teacher, right?”
“It’s fun,” Ms. Mulaney said. “In addition to making sure you all behave, I get to go on the rides, too. And then when I’ve had enough of that, I can go to the lounge and do some work.”
“But school’s over,” Bryony pointed out. “What work do you have?”
Ms. Mulaney glanced down at the canvas bag over her shoulder for just a moment, then shook her head. “Don’t worry about it.”
“What lounge?” I asked.
“It’s for chaperones,” Ms. Mulaney explained. “Stocked with snacks and coffee so we can try and stay awake.”
“Mickey bars, too, right?” Carlos asked, raising an eyebrow.
Ms. Mulaney grinned. “I can neither confirm nor deny the presence of free ice cream,” she said as she checked her watch and then walked away. “We’re leaving soon,” she called to us. “Get your things together!”
“Where did you hear that?” I asked Carlos, but he didn’t respond—because he and Amy were back to making out again. I shrugged and pulled out my phone, and started scrolling through my social media apps. I stopped when I saw a story posted by Tabitha Keith, promoting her new makeup line.
Tabitha Keith, as the daughter of a movie star and a musician, had been famous practically since she was born.
But now, as she was starting to get movie roles herself and was constantly having her picture taken while she got brunch or coffee, her profile had exploded.
Her makeup line had just come out, a skincare line was in development, and she had been heavily rumored for a role in the newest superhero team-up movie.
“What?” Bryony asked, looking over. I tilted my phone screen so she could see it. “Oh, I was thinking about trying her new stuff,” she said. “The really pink blush?”
“It’s wild she’s our age and has a makeup line,” I said, as her next story started—this time she was washing her face in a bright-white bathroom and talking about how her skincare line was going to revolutionize clean beauty.
Bryony laughed. “I mean it’s not like she had to raise money and develop it for years. I’m sure that she’s just the face of it.”
“Still,” I said, then closed out my stories. It was very clear that Tabitha never had a bad-skin day—or probably any kind of bad day—in her life.
Bryony’s phone beeped, and she pulled it out of her bag. Her eyes widened as she looked at it, and she grabbed my arm. “Cass! I just got an email from Mermaid Café! Did you get one, too?”
The Mermaid Café was the centerpiece of Bryony’s summer plan.
She had a whole vision for how the summer would unfold—we’d both get jobs, ideally with shifts together, at the Mermaid.
She was hopeful that even with no food service experience, we could get hired as servers—but if not, she was willing to take a hostess position.
In addition to getting to work together and make good tip money, she had lots of other plans.
She wanted us to drive down to San Diego for their legendary fireworks display on the Fourth and was determined to spend every Friday at the beach.
And she’d announced that we also had to take a long road trip before she started school at University of Washington and I went to Berkeley.
“Let me check,” I murmured as I unlocked my phone, keeping my eyes averted. “Hmm…”
“They’ve received my application and they’re processing it,” she read, her voice going high and excited. “And if they’re interested, they’ll call this week for an interview!” She leaned over to look at my phone. “Check your email. I’m sure you got the same one.”
I checked my email, knowing full well that there wouldn’t be anything there, but hoping I pulled off pretending there would be. “Nothing yet. But I’m sure I’ll hear soon.”
Bryony nodded, twisting her long, pink-streaked hair into a messy bun. “If you don’t hear soon, I’d reach out to them. It’s really important that we both get this job.”
“Totally,” I said, bending forward and letting my hair fall over my face, shielding it from view. I tucked my phone in my purse, taking a little more time than was strictly necessary, just trying to keep my face averted so Bryony wouldn’t be able to read the truth on it.
Because the fact of the matter was, there was no way I was going to be getting an email from the Mermaid Café about my pending application there. I hadn’t put in an application—after all, what would be the point?
My phone beeped, and I looked down at it in surprise. “Is that them?” Bryony asked.
I shook my head. “AirDrop.” I squinted at the screen, then realized that the photos that had been sent to me—all of my classmate Renee Burrows making kissing faces—were most likely not intended for me.
“Renee?” I called, looking around. She was a few people behind us in line and raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah?”
“I think you meant to AirDrop Cassidy, right?” Cassidy Zeppes was standing by the front of the bus—everyone knew Renee had a huge crush on her.
“Oh,” Renee said, turning a deep red. “Uh—sorry, Cass. Just saw the first few letters.”
“It happens,” I said easily, already rejecting the AirDrop. “No worries.”
“Bryony! Cass!” I looked up and saw the Emmas coming toward us.
The Emmas—Emma R., Emma J., and Emma Z.—were best friends who all shared a name.
(Technically, Emma R. was an Emily, but she’d been allowed in anyway.
She’d argued that Emma Stone, one of the pre-emma-nent representatives of their name, was technically also an Emily, which apparently had been enough to convince everyone.)
Bryony had told me that the Emmas had been really nice to her when she’d been dumped by her ex and then her whole former friend group.
And even though they’d been really welcoming, the Emmas were their own unit, and had been ever since middle school, so it just wasn’t the same.
Bryony had always felt like she was just slightly outside the jokes and traditions, and when I’d come to town, she’d gone back to being a more casual friend of theirs.
I hadn’t spent a ton of time with the Emmas, but we’d always gotten along, and I smiled now as I saw them coming toward us.
“Hey, guys,” Bryony said, giving them a smile. “Are you on our bus?”
Emma R. gave us both quick hugs, while Emma J. shook her head. “We’re on bus one,” she said, pointing to the front of the line. “We should get going.”
“But we just wanted to say hi!” Emma R. said with a grin. “Aren’t you so excited? It’s going to be the best night ever, right?”
Emma Z. scoffed, and I glanced at her in surprise. Her face looked drawn, her eyes were puffy, and she stalked away to the first bus without a word, her head down and her shoulders hunched.
“What’s going on with Emma?” I asked the other Emmas, looking after her in surprise. I wasn’t super close with Emma Z., but she’d always been friendly.
“Oh,” Emma R. said, dropping her voice. “She got some bad news today. She’d gotten this scholarship from the Harbor Club that was going to help her with a lot of college expenses—books and food and stuff? But she found out today that they’re actually pulling it. They’re over budget or something.”
Bryony grimaced. “That’s tough. Is she okay?”
“I think so,” Emma J. said, but she looked after her friend, her forehead furrowed. “I’m going to go check.”
She followed after Emma Z., and Emma R. pulled out her phone. “I meant to ask you two. Want to go see Band of Brothers in August? Tickets go on sale tomorrow.”
“Of course,” Bryony said. “Maybe not behind a pole this time?”
“I can’t,” I said with a shrug. “I won’t be here.”
“What do you mean?” Bryony asked, and a second too late, I realized what I’d done.
“I…Because school starts,” I said, trying to will myself to think faster. “In August.”
“This is the beginning,” Emma R. said. “Like, August third or something.” She looked at me with alarm. “Does Berkeley start that early? Now I’m not sad I didn’t get in.”
“Oh sorry—I just misunderstood,” I said, pulling out my phone, pretending to be looking for something as I scrolled through it. “Let me check and I’ll get back to you, okay?”
“Cool,” Emma R. said. “Have to grab my bus, but see you there!”
She hurried off and Bryony turned to me. “You should be able to go, right? No school starts that early.”
“No, totally,” I agreed, still not meeting her eye. “I just got mixed up. Too bad about Emma Z., huh?”
“Seriously. That’s so hard. To have the rug pulled out from under you at the last minute like that…”
I nodded, wanting to change the subject. This was veering dangerously close to what had happened to me with my dads’ announcement, and that was the last thing I wanted to think about. “You know where that phrase comes from?”
Bryony grinned at me. “Is it fact time?”
I laughed. “It is fact time! So it’s from the thirties. The older version, from the 1500s, was cut the grass under my feet.”
Bryony thought about this, then shook her head. “I don’t see that catching on.”
“Me neither.”
“Okay!” Ms. Mulaney was back and clapping her hands together. “Bus five, we’re ready to rock and roll. Twenty minutes to the park, and even though you’ve all graduated and we technically have no sway over you any longer—please behave. Okay?”
We all nodded—I saw Manny Ortega give her a thumbs-up—and then Ms. Mulaney climbed on the bus. I turned to Bryony. “Ready?”
“So ready. Grab a spoon!”
I just looked at her. “Is that Cereal?”
She grinned at me. “You know it!”
I laughed, then gestured to the bus. “Let’s go!”