Between Us and the Moon by Rebecca Maizel Read Free Book Online

wanted to, but it looks fun.
    I am about to take one step to see where they are going, maybe even see if I can hang out with them, when Scarlett’s voice echoes from outside. Right. I almost forgot the reason for being on Main Street in the first place. Through the open French doors of the shop, I see Scarlett toss her hair over her shoulder. I hide behind a wooden turnstile holding dried sand dollars and conch shells. I peek around.
    As Scarlett walks, her blonde hair swishes behind her in wavy lines. She goes into Pleasantries, a clothing store I know she can’t afford. I step out of the Seahorse and follow slowly, close enough to hear but not so close that she’ll see me. I stop next to a busy restaurant and pretend to look for someone coming down the road. From where I am standing, I can see Scarlett walking inside the store. A familiar Jeep Wrangler idles at the nearest intersection and I recognize the driver. He runs into the store after Scarlett and playfully carries her outside.
    The girls follow behind and Scarlett laughs, holding on to the guy’s sculpted arms as he grasps her waist. I would give anything to be there too. I know from their dark tans in June that these boys are either locals or lifeguards. I don’t see the blond guy from the beach earlier today, and surprisingly I’m disappointed about that.
    I stand across the street, hidden by the crowds of people window-shopping and planning their dinners.
    “Hello to you too, Curtis,” she says. He puts her down and kisses Scarlett right on the mouth. He even dips her. He’s tall, with shaggy hair that would have been dark had it not beenlightened by the sun. The way the boys look at Scarlett and her friends you’d think they were hungry or something.
    She pushes him back with a laugh. “Get off!” she says. “Don’t even. I am not slumming it this summer, Curtis.” Scarlett saunters away from the boys, but Curtis, the brown-haired guy, grabs her hand and pulls her back.
    “I’m only joking, Miss Scarlett. Come to Lighthouse Beach; we’re starting a bonfire.”
    Scarlett runs a hand through her hair so it fans out on her shoulders and back. She does that all the time and especially loves to do that when her hair has been up in a bun. It gets tons of looks from guys. I’ve seen it. Okay, so I guess I need to excessively play around with my hair.
    Scarlett looks to her friends, who I can see even in the reflection of the window, are dying to go with Curtis and his friends. Hell, I am dying to go and I’m across the street. Her friends look at Scarlett, eyes wide, waiting for her to make the executive decision.
    “Okay. Fine. But do not bring that crappy light beer again. I’m strictly drinking vodka this summer.” Scarlett side glances one of her friends. “I need to watch my calories,” she adds with a shrug. Okay, good. This is a clear, observable behavior I’ve seen Scarlett do. If I act like I don’t care, or show disinterest when I am actually interested, people will think I am even more interesting.
    This is complicated.
    Curtis agrees to grab some vodka and runs into the liquor store a few buildings down from where we stand.
    This gives me time to find a different vantage point before she crosses the road to where Curtis’s Jeep is waiting.
    The side street that runs down to Main is very steep. I turn the corner and run up so I am looking down on Main Street, just where Scarlett is standing. A couple of ladies head into the diner, the Bird’s Nest, which is next to Pleasantries.
    I lean against the building and keep checking for Scarlett and her group of friends to cross the intersection to the Jeep.
    I slip out a flip notebook from my pocket. I scribble down some Scarlett observations underneath those from the beach earlier today:
    1.    Scarlett’s confidence seems to be the biggest influence. Zebra bikini. Asks for boys to tote her around because she knows they will say yes.
    2.    Toss hair around .
    3.    If you