Island Girls (And Boys) Read online

  �We won�t be able to turn on the main lights,� I said quietly. �We�ll attract too much attention, and night owls will want in. But there�s still plenty of light to see once your eyes adjust.�

  It was very shadowy in there, but we could still see what we needed to see: mainly each other and the pool table.

  I watched Dylan walk over to the case that held the cue sticks. He took down two cue sticks, handed me one, and ambled to the pool table. �Where do we get the balls?�

  �You drop a quarter into the slot.�

  He looked over his shoulder at me. �We have to pay to play?�

  I suddenly felt a little daring as I sauntered over to the table. �Well, if you were an ordinary camper you would. But since you�ve hooked up with the unofficial assistant manager�� I jingled my keys, crouched down, unlocked the coin slot, and flipped a switch. The balls tumbled out into a tray at one end of the table.

  Pleased with the results, I straightened and gave him what I hoped was an I-am-good-at-this smile. �I�ll break.�

  Because of the shadows, I couldn�t see clearly into his eyes, but I could feel him studying me. He moved to the table and started arranging the balls in the rack. �So what are we going to play for?�

  His voice sounded low and secretive and left me wondering what game we were really here to play.

  �The joy of winning?� I asked, my confidence suddenly sliding down to my toes.

  He moved the full rack to one side, then the other, up a bit, then down, before centering it in place. �That�s no fun.�

  Very carefully, he lifted the rack, leaving the balls in place. Although we were on opposite ends of the table, I felt his gaze home in on me.

  �There has to be some element of risk to make the game interesting,� he said. �Otherwise, we�re just smacking balls around.�

  I liked smacking balls around. I�d done it a lot last summer. Still, I couldn�t help wondering what I�d gotten myself into here. �What did you have in mind?�

  �Home-baked chocolate chip cookies.�

  A bubble of laughter escaped with my relief. I was expecting him to suggest a kiss, or maybe even strip pool! Something that went with the shadows and his sultry voice.

  �Hey, don�t laugh. I didn�t expect to miss my mom�s cooking so much.�

  �But chocolate chip cookies?�

  �My weakness.�

  �I thought only girls craved chocolate.�

  �Whatever. But if I win, you bake me some chocolate chip cookies.�

  �And if I win?�

  �You bake me some oatmeal raisin cookies.�

  I laughed harder. �No way are you coming out ahead either way.�

  �Not totally ahead. If I win, I get something I really like. If I lose, I get something I sorta like.�

  �Not happening. If you win, I�ll bake you some cookies, but if I win�I get an unbroken sand dollar�one that isn�t bought at a tourist shop. You have to find it on the beach.�

  Holding his cue stick to the floor like a staff, he shifted his weight to one hip. �A sand dollar?�

  �Unbroken. I�ve always wanted to find one on the beach. I figure with you going all the way down to Mexico, you might find one. You can mail it to me here.�

  �All right. You got a deal. Best out of five games. Break.�

  I hit the white ball so it sent the other balls scattering over the table. Two solid and one striped ball went into the pockets. �I�m solid,� I said.

  I walked around the table, studying how the balls were now arranged and the various angles.

  �You�re looking at the table like you know what you�re doing,� he said.

  �Red ball in the side pocket,� I said.

  Lined up my shot. Smack, tap, bingo! I looked back at him. �I do know what I�m doing.�

  He groaned. �I really don�t want to spend my summer looking for the perfect sand dollar.�

  �So what happened to your no risk, no fun policy? Yellow ball, corner pocket.� I loved the sound of balls clicking as they came into contact with each other, even more the thud of a yellow ball dropping down into the corner pocket.

  �That was when I thought winning was a sure thing.�

  �It is a sure thing,� I said, moving so I could get a better angle on the blue ball. �My sure thing. Blue ball, off that end, then back into this far corner.� With the tip of my cue stick, I tapped the corner I was aiming for.

  �No way!�

  It was a tricky shot, but I was feeling confident. As geeky as it sounds, pool is all about angles, and angles are all about math. I envisioned the ball�s journey, exactly where it needed to touch the side to get the necessary angle, and how hard to get the momentum it needed to reach the far corner pocket�

  �Come on already.�

  �No talking,� I said.

  �You�re taking this way too seriously.�

  �You bet. You have no idea how badly I want a sand dollar.�

  �What�s the big deal about a sand dollar? All the tourist shops sell them.�

  �Like I said. Purchased sand dollars don�t count. It�s gotta be a washed-up-onshore-discovered-sand dollar. Now be quiet.�

  I heard him heave a deep sigh, but I wasn�t going to be distracted. Besides, I wasn�t just playing for the sand dollar, but the joy of beating him. I really wanted to beat him. I lined up my shot and smack! The white ball hit the blue ball. It rolled to the end with a force and angle strong enough to bounce it back toward the corner I�d indicated. It rolled, started to slow�no, no, no!

  �It�s not going to make it,� Dylan said.

  �Yes, it will.� I tried to send forceful vibes�

  Didn�t work. The ball stopped right at the edge of the pocket. If I just breathed on it, it would drop right in. �Not fair!�

  �Yes!� Dylan jabbed a fist into the air, ambled up to the table, and bent over it. �Have to admit, Jennifer, you had me shaking in my shoes.� He looked up and winked at me. �Now, babe, start lining up your ingredients, �cause tomorrow I�m eating chocolate chip cookies.�

  And he proceeded to clear the balls off the table with stunning swiftness and accuracy.

  CHAPTER 12

  �What else do we need?� Chelsea asked.

  The next day, right after work�a day marked with a lot of activity in the store and at the snack bar�we�d driven over to the mainland to do some serious grocery shopping.

  I looked at our list. �Chocolate chips.�

  After Dylan had won the second game, I�d started to suspect he was a pool hustler or something. The third game went to me and hope had returned that he�d have to find me a sand dollar. But he�d won the fourth game without me even having the opportunity to chalk up my cue stick. Although there had been no reason to play the fifth game, we had anyway. I�d won�but I suspected it was a pity win, him letting me regain some of my pride.

  I hadn�t seen him since he�d driven me back to the beach house. Amy reported that he and Zach had stopped by the snack bar for hot dogs around noon. She�d told them to show up at seven for dinner�which didn�t give us a lot of time. Especially since I had to bake cookies.

  �I am so not in the mood to fix something fancy,� Chelsea said as we headed to the baking aisle.

  �Fancy is not in a guy�s vocabulary,� Amy said. �All they want is an abundance of food.�

  �So what are we going to cook?� Chelsea asked.

  �I lost a bet with Dylan, so I have to bake some chocolate chip cookies.�

  �You bet with him?� Amy asked.

  �Yeah.� I explained about our little pool tournament.

  �Too bad he didn�t ask for something a little sweeter,� Chelsea said when I was finished.

  �Like what?�

  �Duh? A kiss?�

  I didn�t want to admit that when all was said and done, I�d been disappointed that we hadn�t been playing for exactly that.