Summer's Kiss (The Boys of Ocean Beach 1)

I’m carrying a basket of clothes to the laundry room the next day when Anita corners me. I smile at Sibley perched on her hip.

“So,” she says, following me into the small cinderblock building. I begin tossing clothes into the washer.

“So, what?”

She rolls her eyes. “I saw you cozying up to a few of the boys yesterday.”

“Whatever, we were all just hanging out. You missed it because you were snuggling in the boat with Bobby.”

“I have eyes in the back of my head. I saw you and Pete on the sandbar.”

I blush. There really are no secrets around this place.

“And you and Justin looked pretty tight all day yesterday.”

“He was being nice—helping me past my fear of the ocean.”

“I heard you gave him a ride home?”

“From who?”

She squints and reaches out to touch my chin, “What’s that?”

I push her hand away and measure out a cup of soap and pour it in the machine. “What’s what?”

“Looks like a rash.”

From Justin’s beard.

“Probably just from the sand or something.” I turn and exit the building. Anita follows me back to the camper.

“Sure, that could be it, or you know, face rash from making out with Justin last night!” She says this loudly, too loudly for being in the middle of the campground and surrounded by nosy neighbors.

Sibley giggles and says, “Jusssstin.”

“Shhhh!” I frown, looking around to see if anyone heard. Mr. Walker waters flowers in front of his camper but I doubt he heard me over his radio. I lower my voice and ask, “What’s your problem?”

She has the good sense to look guilty. “Nothing. I’m just glad you’re having some fun. And I like you. And I love him. Is it wrong to be happy that the people I care about are happy?

“Whatever,” she says following me to my camper. “I noticed you got home pretty late last night—way later than the rest of us.”

“Are you stalking me?” I ask, but I know she can see the entrance from her house. “I dropped him at his house and he showed me around.”

“Beautiful, huh? Just think—that could have been my life,” she sighs. “You know, if my mom and Richard had stayed together.”

“What and leave all this?” I glance around the campground. It’s Sunday afternoon and the grounds are starting to come to life. Mr. Walker is mowing the five by eight patch of grass out front, while some lady in lot #17 prunes her flowers. “I’m kidding, you know, it really is pretty fantastic here—in its own charming way.”

“I think so,” she nods, letting a squirming Sibley out of her arms to see the tiny dog one of the residents is walking.

My phone vibrates in my pocket and I check to see who’s calling. “It’s my friend Catherine. I sho

uld take this.”

“Keep me posted on the boys, I need details. I got married young, you know, I need a little excitement.” Anita waves and follows after Sibley.

“Hey,” I say into the phone.

“Hey girl! How are you?”