Page 3 of Faking it For Summer

The sun makes her skin glow, illuminating her freckles like specks of gold. I take a deep breath of the salty ocean breeze and allow the familiar feeling of calm to overtake me. The cries of the seagulls make me smile, even as the humidity flattens my fine hair against my neck uncomfortably.

It almost feels like being on vacation, coming out here every day. Even though I’m here selling books, painting kids’ faces, and taking photos of happy couples and families on vacation who are trying not to kill each other, it is still fun.

“I don’t know yet. Why don’t we write our own and perform it for all the tourists in town?” I grin at her and shimmy back and forth. “You can sing, and I’ll be your backup dancer.” I spin around, my long blond hair flying across my shoulders as I do my little dance, which slightly resembles a wonky two-step move.

“Is this the mobile bookstore I’ve heard so much about, or auditions forAmerican Idol?” a voice whispers behind us.

We still and turn around slowly. I let out a loud laugh as I see Wendy standing there with her sister, Josie, gazing at us with amused expressions on their faces.

“How’s it going, Wendy?” I ask her.

Josie giggles and enters our renovated VW van to check out what new books we’ve gotten in stock.

“I’m good.” She nods, and I see her checking out her phone. “Just waiting on Gigi and Louisa, as we’re all going to do some yoga.”

I am not a yoga girl; I don’t enjoy it, but I decide to keep that information to myself.

“Yoga on the beach sounds like a good way to start the day.” I tuck some loose wisps of hair behind my ears. My plethora of colorful bangles jangle with the movement, and I look down at my wrists in pleasure.

Beep.

Luke: Two minutes. I’m waiting.

I grin at the text. I kinda like him waiting on me for once.

“Yeah, Gigi says yoga on the beach and then a swim in the ocean is like becoming one with nature.” Wendy shifts her beach bag against her hip.

“I feel the same way about sex on the beach,” Juniper adds slyly, and we all start laughing, though I know I have to call her out.

“You’ve never had sex on the beach, Juni,” I tease her and wiggle my eyebrows as a cool breeze brushes past us. “Or are you keeping secrets from me?”

“Would I do that?” She adjusts some of theGreetings from Coconut Beachpostcards on the tall rack to the left of the van and starts unpacking the box of bookmarks that arrived the night before. “Oh, I forgot to give you the mail.”

Juniper hands me a stack of letters, which I idly sort through, only expecting to see bills.

“Ooh, what’s this?” I say, spying an elegant linen envelope with my name written in calligraphy. I notice the name at the top is Rex Haverbrook.

I’m about to open it when my phone rings with the song “Baby Got Back,” which my best friend, Luke, programmed in years ago. Nerves are now entering my stomach. Luke is never this insistent about getting in contact with me.

“What’s up?” I say as I answer the phone. “Everything okay?”

“It’s fine. I needed to talk to you,” he says in his smooth, dry voice.

Luke Haverbrook has been my best friend since we were four years old, and we met in pre-K. And even though he left Coconut Beach right after high school for college, we’ve remained close. It’s unbelievable to me that we haven’t seen each other in five years—other than a late-night video call every few weeks when we watch a movie or something together. I miss my friend, but he’s happy in the city, working his very lucrative job.

“Did you know your brother sent me a letter?” I rip it open eagerly, wondering if it’s some sort of declaration of love. That would be weird, but kinda exciting.

“About that …” Luke clears his throat, and he sounds awkward, which is weird because he always sounds so sure of himself. “That’s why I’ve been trying to get in contact with you.”

“What is it?” I feel an internal flicker of something like hope or anticipation, swiftly followed by dread, and I’m not sure why.

“I’m actually working right now, and I can’t talk for super long, but …” he says, his voice dropping dramatically, which is so unlike Luke. He’s the least dramatic person I know. And the least likely to gossip, which I find quite annoying.

“But what?” I ask eagerly, and both Wendy and Juniper look up at me with questioning eyes. “Luke, stop being coy! Tell me what’s going on!”

“I’m nervous to tell you, Mi-Mi.”

He chuckles as I growl at his pet name for me, which delights him. Luke loves to annoy me.