Kristen. Part 8

"Get me out of here!" Skye slapped her arms down. The entire pink pool trembled.

Yes! It was B!

"Is this your idea of a practical joke?" She pulled a red chunk off her clavicle and whipped it at his ah-dorable stomach. It landed with a smack, then fell to the deck with a lifeless thud, making him laugh even harder.

Kristen fought the urge to run out and throw her arms around his giggle-quaking shoulders.

"How am I going to return this bathing suit now?" Skye moaned while Dune pulled her out. "You did this, didn't you? You and your jealous jealous wannabe-member friends." wannabe-member friends."

"Actually, you you look like the look like the Jell- Jell-Os one," he joked.

The Witty Committee exchanged enthusiastic high fives on his behalf.

Skye searched his face angrily. Had he really just spoken to her like that?

But his amused smile refused to back down. In fact, the more she huffed, the wider it got.

"Ugh!" She grabbed her phone and scarves and marched off into the darkness.

"Skye, wait!" Dune called after her. Yet he stood still.

Kristen's insides were pus.h.i.+ng against her skin, urging her forward, unable to stand one more second in hiding.

She'd fought hard.

She'd fought smart.

And now she wanted her prize.

"Here." Oprah handed her a clear orange Juicy beach tote. Inside was a can of whipped cream and two spoons. "It's fat-free." She winked.

Looking out at her betas, Kristen's eyes filled with happy tears. She wanted to make a speech to show them how grateful she was for their brilliance and support, but she didn't have a chance. In one swift movement, Einstein pulled off her Cleopatra wig and Shakespeare playfully shoved her out of the bushes. Intermission was over. And they were dying to see how this love story would end.

Kristen would have liked a moment to collect her thoughts. Or rehea.r.s.e her opening line. Or gloss. But Dune noticed her the instant she flew out of the shrubs.

"What are you doing here?" He lifted his head and lowered his phone mid-text.

"Sweet tooth." She held-swung the bag of whipped cream as she flip-flopped toward him, suddenly aware of the silky white Grecian dress against her illegally shaved legs. That, and the way he was beaming, rea.s.sured Kristen that gloss wasn't necessary. With the Witty Committee behind her, the warm summer breeze around her, and Dune smile-waiting for her just ahead, Kristen felt perfect just the way she was.

"Did you do all this?" Dune's light brown eyes looked like they had been sprinkled with glitter.

"I had a little help." She casually put her hand behind her back and flashed a thumbs-up to the Witty Committee.

"How'd ya know I'd be here?" Dune asked, with the amused confusion of someone who had just walked into his own surprise party. "How did you pull it off? Why did you do it?"

Finally, a question she wanted to answer.

"I thought we were going to get revenge. And when I saw you at the pool today, I figured you were casing it, you know, so we could do this," she lied. "I didn't realize you were into Skye. I didn't think she was your type." She let her voice trail off like a seasoned soap actress. "Sorry if I ruined things between you guys," she lied again.

"You didn't." Dune took the bag out of Kristen's hand and pulled out the whipped cream. "The whole reason I came by tonight was to tell her I only wanted to be friends." He pulled the red top off the can of Reddi-wip. "And now I'm not sure I even want that. That OCDiva can't take a sucker punch. How lame!"

"Yeah, I guess you must have met, like, a million pretty girls on your surf trips you'd rather hang with." Kristen widened her eyes, trying to look cheery about it.

"Yeah." He got down on one knee and began drawing a whipped cream heart on the pool deck. "But none of them have it all." He paused. "Like you."

A muted mini awwww awwww whined out from the bushes behind them. whined out from the bushes behind them.

Suddenly, Kristen's insides felt like they had been filled with helium. And if she didn't grab hold of something soon, she'd float up into the starry sky and never see him again.

"What do you think?" Dune stood and waved his tanned arm over his masterpiece. Inside the heart he had written KG & DB.

The whipped cream would probably melt in less than an hour, but the memory would last forever.

"I see them!" shouted a man's voice from somewhere in the darkness. "Freeze!"

It was Dwight.

Panic instantly chased the floaty feeling from Kristen's body. Her heart was no longer thumping to the beat of love ballads. It was more like the theme from the TV show Cops-Bad boys, bad boys whatchu gonna do /whatchu gonna do when they come for you Cops-Bad boys, bad boys whatchu gonna do /whatchu gonna do when they come for you. . . .

"Come on!" Dune grabbed Kristen's arm and pulled her under a chaise. They lay side by side on the warm deck, panting and squeezing each other's hands. If she hadn't been at risk of being punished for an entire year, this would have been the best moment of her life.

Suddenly, a static-soaked voice bleated out over a walkie-talkie, "Three suspects just ran from the bushes but one is still there gathering up some computer gear."

"Can you get a positive ID?" Dwight asked.

"Um, well, it kind of looks like Albert Einstein." The other guard chuckled.

"Layne!" Kristen mouthed to Dune.

"This is no time for jokes, Karl. Apprehend! I'll head over to the fence and nab the others before they crawl under. Maybe now now Garreth will take my security memos more seriously." He huffed as he took off toward the green. Garreth will take my security memos more seriously." He huffed as he took off toward the green.

"Come on." Kristen began wiggling out from under the chaise. "Now's our chance!"

She took off toward the main entrance of the club. With the guards running in the opposite direction, it was the perfect place to slip out.

"Where are you going?" Dune whisper-shouted.

Kristen stopped and looked back. He was heading toward the bushes, straight for Karl.

"That's the wrong way," she insisted. Then mouthed, "Karl."

"Don't you want to save your friend?" he asked, his body still turned toward the bushes.

"I can't! I'll be grounded for a year if I get caught." As she said the words, her eyes filled with tears. Getting caught meant no Dune, no sleepovers at Ma.s.sie's, and no soccer until the ninth grade! The stakes were too high. Even for a member of the Witty Committee.

"You can't leave a buddy behind!"

"I won't be able to see you until next summer." She squeezed the billowing material of her dress with suddenly sweat-slicked palms.

Dune studied her face as if he had just woken from a coma. "You're not going to see me anyway." He quickly turned and raced toward Layne.

But it was too late.

"Ahhhhhhh!" she shouted as Karl crept up behind her and blinded her with his industrial-size flashlight.

Tears began rolling down Kristen's cheeks as she struggled to decide between: A) Saving her friend.B) Saving her relations.h.i.+p.C) Saving herself.

Her head chose A. Her heart chose B. But her legs chose C.

THE PINEWOOD.

THE ROOF.

Thursday, July 23 10:58 A.M.

Kristen pulled her phone from the pocket of her white cotton dress and stared at its screen.

The envelope icon on her black Razr wasn't there, just like it hadn't been there the last eight times she'd checked.

Each time Kristen thought about last night she kicked her soccer ball as hard as she could. And each time, it slammed against the cement wall that surrounded the roof of her building with a thwack thwack.

How could she have left Layne behind?

Thwack!

How could Dune have left her her behind? behind?

Thwack!

Would she rather be punished for a year and have Dune's respect?

Thwack!

Or have freedom and no one to share it with?

Thwack!

The sun was bearing down on her unprotected scalp like a judgmental eye. And the deserted black tar roof offered no relief. In fact, it felt like she was burning in a concrete h.e.l.l, and, certain she deserved it, Kristen chose to stick it out.

Technically, with no job, no friends, and no crush, h.e.l.l was everywhere she went, but up here, no one could see her cry . . . or sweat-two things she had been doing all morning.

Finally, Kristen allowed herself a long sip of tap water from her Evian bottle. She wiped her mouth on her salty arm, then pulled her black Razr from the pocket on her white H&M cargo dress (which would accidentally get caught on a nail and be ripped to shreds one week before the Pretty Committee got back).

No messages.

Thwack!

She shuffled across the scorching tar to retrieve her ball but stopped midway when her cell vibrated. It was a text.

From . . . Dune Dune!

Dune: Need to talk ASAP. Where are you? Need to talk ASAP. Where are you?Kristen: Roof. Pinewood bldg. Take elevator to ninth floor. Roof. Pinewood bldg. Take elevator to ninth floor.Dune: See u in three minutes. See u in three minutes.

Three minutes?

Thwack!

Kristen tried to catch a glimpse of her reflection in the bottom of an abandoned Budweiser can, but hot beer trickled out all over her arm and made her chive-scented BO smell even worse. She ran around the perimeter of the roof, looking for a faucet, but found nothing. Maybe she could text Dune back and tell him to come over in an hour. After she had some time to shower and rehea.r.s.e her this-is-why-I-left-a-buddy-behind speech.

But it was too late.

A car door slammed below, and, sure enough, Brice's blue Chevy Avalanche pulled away.

There would be no shower.

Thwack!

No gloss.

Thwack!

No rehearsal.

Thwack!

No- The metal door to the roof opened suddenly with a pump-hiss.

Kristen dried her eyes, then turned slowly, as if weighed down by shame.

A stocky blond with frizzy hair and brown terry cloth jumper stood before her fanning her face. "I bet you could get a killer tan up here," the girl said. "It's much closer to the sun than my roof. You can feel it."

"Ripple?" Kristen's heart sank like the elevator she wished she was taking her back down to her condo.

"Yeah, sorry." She shrugged. "I pulled Dune's phone out of his pocket just before Dad dropped him off at GAS."

"Why?"

"If you got a text from me, would you have responded?" She lifted her face to the sun-soaked sky.

Kristen didn't have to say a word. They both knew the answer.

"What do you want?" she asked, kicking the black-and-white ball. It rebounded off the wall and landed right back at her cleats. A move she wished Dune had been there to see.

Ripple pulled a black elastic off her wrist and tied back her perma-parched hair. "Turns out Skye got accepted to Alphas after all."

For an instant, Kristen felt lighter than Kate Bosworth. Then she realized Skye's absence wouldn't bring her any closer to Dune. That was so yesterday. So before-he-saw-her-turn-her-back-on-Layne. "And?"