Summer Of The Geek Part 4

"One for my master, one for my dame, and one for the little boy who lives down the lane," I continued.

"What do I have to do to make you stop?" Amelia asked.

I stopped singing. "Play Monopoly with me," I said.

"Just one game?"

"One game," I agreed.

"And if I do, then you'll let me practice?"

"Yes," I said, adding, "At least for today."

"Fine," Amelia said, spitting the word out. "I'll play one stupid game of stupid Monopoly with you."

"Good," I said sweetly. "I'll set the board up on the kitchen table."

Thirty minutes later, I owned most of the real estate on the board, and had built at least one hotel on each property. Amelia was playing, but without any enthusiasm or effort. She rolled the dice and paid whatever fines she accrued, but didn't buy a single property. It was pretty obvious that her goal was to go bankrupt as quickly as possible in order to end the game.

"Pa.s.sive-aggressive Monopoly," I said as she handed over the rent on the luxury property I'd built on Park Place. "This is fun. Is it my turn?"

Amelia didn't reply. She'd stayed mute throughout the game, keeping her lips pressed together in a tight, white line.

I rolled the die. "One, two, three . . . oh, look, I landed on Community Chest."

The game was over in a record forty-two minutes. Amelia paid over the last of her rent money to me, and then, still not saying a word, she stood, turned, and marched back to the living room. A moment later, the sound of piano music drifted back into the kitchen.

As I stared down at my Monopoly empire, I couldn't help thinking the whole exercise had been pointless. True, I had gotten Amelia away from her piano for a while. But it hadn't been the bonding experience I'd hoped for. In fact, if anything, I'd just alienated her even further. With a frustrated sigh, I swept the pieces of the Monopoly game back in the box.

After that, the rest of the day pa.s.sed much as the day before had. Amelia spent all morning and afternoon practicing, breaking only for lunch, which she ate in silence. We ate lunch together, but Amelia refused to speak to me.

No matter how hard I tried to concentrate on my writing, my thoughts kept drifting away like puffy clouds in a blue summer sky. I wondered what would happen between Dex and me if I decided to move to London to live with Sadie. Would we stay together, or break up? We hadn't been dating all that long, and I'd heard long-distance relationships were hard to sustain even between people who'd been together for a while. Then I thought of Charlie, and how she'd lost herself when she was dating Mitch, and that I didn't ever want to be that sort of person-the kind who puts her boyfriend ahead of everything else in her life.

I shook my head, trying to dislodge all thoughts of this dilemma. I had to make a decision soon, but I didn't have to figure it out today. I redoubled my efforts with my story, but no matter how hard I tried to concentrate, I found myself instead listening to Amelia's music. The song she was playing was absolutely beautiful, slow and soothing. I wondered what it was. Another Haydn piece? I tried to figure out if it sounded like what she'd been playing earlier, but quickly gave up-I just didn't know enough about music to distinguish one cla.s.sical piece from another.

I stood, abandoning my writing, and walked back to the living room, irresistibly drawn to the music. I didn't think Amelia had noticed my arrival. I stood behind a wing chair and out of her line of sight, and listened to her play. The song grew in intensity, unfolding as she coaxed the melody out of the keys. I'd always thought that cla.s.sical music was boring. But this certainly wasn't. As I listened, the fine hairs on my arms stood on end. Amelia finished the piece and sat so still for a moment that I wondered if she'd fallen under her own spell.

I clapped. "That was amazing," I said.

Amelia started, and turned around. Her expression was wary, suspicious that I was here to coerce her into partic.i.p.ating in another nonmusical activity.

"What's the name of it?" I asked.

"It's Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata," Amelia said. "It's a really famous piece."

"I can see why. Look at my arm." I held it up. "I have goose b.u.mps. But I think that might have more to do with your playing than anything else."

I wasn't humoring her. Amelia was an extraordinarily gifted musician. She played with such grace and feeling, the music soared inside me in a way I'd never experienced before, and especially not with cla.s.sical music.

Amelia bowed her head. "Thanks," she said, almost begrudgingly.

"Play me something else," I suggested.

Amelia looked up. "Really?"

"Yes."

"What do you want to hear?"

"You pick. Anything," I said. I sat down on the white wing chair and folded my hands on my lap.

Amelia considered my request, and for a moment, I thought she was going to refuse. But then she shrugged one shoulder, lifted her fingers to the keyboard, and began to play. This piece was quite different from the last. Her fingers danced over the keyboard, teasing the song out, while I leaned back in my chair and let the music wash over me.

Chapter Six.

"I'm impressed. I had no idea you were so devious, Miranda," Dex said that evening.

We were sitting in the theater while we waited for our movie to start, sharing a large popcorn with extra b.u.t.ter. One of the many things I liked about Dex was that his appet.i.te was as large as mine. I could never be one of those girls who claim to get full grazing on lettuce leaves and carrot sticks.

"What do you mean?" I asked, reaching for a handful of popcorn.

"You totally played Amelia," Dex said.

"No, I didn't," I said.

"Sure you did," Dex said. "She wasn't talking to you before, right? But then you complimented her, schmoozed her up, and ta-da -now you're best buddies."

"Ta-da? There was no ta- da," I said. "First of all, we're not best buddies. We've only just gotten to the point where she'll stay in the same room with me. And second, I wasn't trying to manipulate her into liking me."

"Deny it all you want," Dex said. "But it's hard to argue with results. Didn't you say she agreed to go to that pottery painting place with you tomorrow?" He smiled at me in a way that made my stomach flutter. "That's definite progress."

Amelia had agreed to go to the pottery studio with me, which I considered a minor victory. I hadn't expected her to go along with the idea when I proposed it, but she surprised me.

"Sure," Amelia had said, shrugging. "It's better than stupid Monopoly."

I now reached for another handful of popcorn, tossing the b.u.t.tery kernels into my mouth one at a time. "I was going to suggest we go to the pool, but Amelia can't swim."

"Really?" Dex frowned. "That's not very safe, especially when you live in a town surrounded by water."

"That's what I thought," I said. "You're a lifeguard. Do you ever give swimming lessons?"

"I could. Does she want to learn how to swim?" Dex asked.

I shrugged. "Probably not, but I'll ask her. Although considering how contrary Amelia is, I'd probably have better luck if I use reverse psychology. I'll tell her that under no circ.u.mstances is she ever allowed near a pool. She'll be swimming laps within a week just to prove me wrong."

"See? You are devious," Dex said.

"Dex?"

Dex and I both looked up at the sound of his name. The girl standing there in the aisle, beaming down at my boyfriend, was gorgeous. She was tall and slender, with thick golden blond hair that fell in waves down around her shoulders. She had large brown eyes, a perfectly straight nose, and full lips that were curled up in a devastating smile. She was probably the prettiest girl I'd ever seen outside of movies and magazines. She was even prettier than Hannah.

I hated her on sight.

"Wendy!" Dex said.

He stood and, to my horror, hugged her. Wendy? Had Dex ever mentioned a Wendy? And then, with dawning dread, I realized who she was.

Wendy Erikson. Dex's ex-girlfriend.

Hannah once told me Dex and Hannah had broken up when Wendy transferred from Orange Cove High to a prep school somewhere up north, so she'd be closer to New York City, where she was pursuing a modeling career. Hannah had been incredibly envious of Wendy's success there. I think it was part of what had gotten Hannah so gung ho about launching her own modeling career.

But knowing that Wendy was somewhere out there-perfect and pretty, but also far, far away-was another thing entirely to being confronted with her gorgeousness in the middle of the Orange Cove Cineplex.

"How have you been?" Dex asked Wendy, his voice warmly affectionate.

"Great," she said, touching his arm. "How about you?"

"Good," Dex said. Then, as if just remembering that I was sitting there, he turned to me. "This is my girlfriend, Miranda."

Dex grabbed my hand, gently pulling me to my feet. I felt a teeny-tiny bit better. He had told her I was his girlfriend. This meeting would have been ten thousand times more hideous if Dex had introduced me as just a friend. And he was holding hands with me in front of her. That was a good sign, too.

Wendy beamed at me. "Hi, it's nice to meet you. I'm Wendy," she said. She was dressed simply in a white tank top, khaki shorts, and silver leather sandals, but somehow managed to make the ensemble look effortlessly chic. A gold pendant in the shape of a W hung at her throat, and she hooked one finger over it, sliding it absently up and down its gold chain.

I forced my mouth into a smile. "Hi. It's nice to meet you, too," I said.

Wendy turned her attention back to Dex. "So, what've you been up to, Dex?"

"Same old. Surfing, lacrosse, you know. How about you? How was boarding school?" he asked.

"Good, but crazy busy between school and work. It doesn't leave a lot of room for downtime." She laughed, and stroked a stray lock of blond hair from her cheek. "It's actually a relief to be home for the summer."

"You're here for the whole summer?" Dex asked interestedly.

I'd actually been wondering the same thing. Only in my head, it was more of a high-pitched, panic-stricken scream: You're here for the whole summer? NO!!!!!!

"Most of it," Wendy said. She touched Dex's arm again. I really, really wished she would stop doing that. "How about you? How's old Orange Cove High?"

"No complaints. Our lacrosse team made it to sectionals, which was cool, although we lost in the semifinals."

"What are you doing this summer? Are you lifeguarding again?" she asked.

"Sure am," he said. He grinned. "It's the only job I know of where you get to go for a swim whenever you need to cool off."

"That's great. We had so much fun at the pool last summer, didn't we?" Wendy said. "And I had the best tan of my life. I guess that's the perk of being the lifeguard's girlfriend." Wendy grinned at me, including me in the joke.

I wanted to smile confidently, but my face had gone numb. She had spent all last summer hanging out at the pool? Why hadn't Dex told me that? And what other pertinent nuggets of information was he holding back?

"Miranda hasn't been by the pool yet," Dex said. He squeezed my hand. "She's been too busy working to come by and worship at my lifeguard chair."

Wendy and I both rolled our eyes at this, and Dex laughed.

"You should keep an eye on him, Miranda. The girls at the pool are always all over the lifeguards." Wendy smiled and winked at Dex. "That's why I spent so much time hanging out there last year."

What? What! I felt like screaming, but managed to swallow it back. Even though we went to different schools, I knew all too well how popular Dex was. One of Hannah's friends, Avery, had had a huge crush on him last year. She was furious when he and I started dating, and from what Hannah told me, Avery wasn't the only one. But something about Dex had always made me feel safe trusting him with my heart.

But that was before I'd seen firsthand how gorgeous Wendy was. And before I'd heard about the hordes of bikini-clad girls who were apparently lying in wait for my boyfriend.

Wendy looked up and waved at someone in the back of the theater.

"I have to go. Jody's waiting for me," she said. She smiled at Dex and gave his arm one last squeeze. "It was great to see you. Maybe we can get together sometime for a coffee and catch up more."

"Sure," Dex said easily. "Good to see you, Wends."

Wends? He was using a special, cutesy nickname for her? Could I just die now?

We sat back down. I wanted him to say something rea.s.suring-something like Blond models are seriously overrated or She may seem like a nice girl on the surface, but underneath it she has a small, charred piece of coal in place of a heart-but Dex just smiled to himself and shook his head.

"Wendy Erikson," he said. "It's been a long time since I've seen her."

There were so many things I wanted to ask. Were you ever in love with her? Are you still in love with her? And if so, where does that leave me?

But the words stuck in my throat like a piece of dry toast. I wasn't at all sure I wanted to hear his answers.

The lights dimmed, and the previews began. I huddled back in my seat, wrapping my arms around my body while I tried to swallow back my anxiety.

Dex leaned toward me. "Want some popcorn?" he whispered, his warm breath tickling my ear.

"No, thanks. I'm good," I said.

"Are you sure?" he asked, jostling the bag to tempt me. "I've never known you to turn down popcorn. Especially greasy movie theater popcorn with the fake b.u.t.ter flavoring on it. Your favorite."

"I'm sure," I said dully. My stomach felt so pinched and sour, the last thing I wanted was food.

"More for me," Dex said. He leaned back in his seat, but he reached over and took my hand in his, entwining our fingers together. My heart lightened a bit. If Dex still liked Wendy, he'd be sitting with her, holding her hand, I reminded myself. There was no reason to be so paranoid.

"I think I will have some popcorn after all," I said, reaching for the bag with my free hand.

An older woman with short frosted-blond hair who was sitting directly in front of us twisted around in her seat and shot me a dirty look.

"Shh!" she said. "The movie is starting."