Island Girls (And Boys) Read online

  �Chels, we�re all in charge. We�re friends, we�ll work together.�

  Chelsea ran her hands through her short hair in frustration. So much for her ocean breeze look. �But we�re not working together. You�ve been bossing us around ever since we got here. Telling us where to put things in the kitchen��

  �Because I know where everything goes!�

  �You know where everything goes when your grandparents are here. But they aren�t here now. So why can�t things be different? Why do they have to be the way they�ve always been or the way that you think they should be?�

  �Because I�ve spent a lot of time thinking about how we would manage things while we�re living here.�

  �And what if we don�t want to do things the way you�ve decided?�

  Then go home, I almost said. But that wasn�t the answer, and it wasn�t what I truly wanted. These were my best friends. We didn�t always agree on everything, but we always managed to work through our differences.

  �Then we need to talk about it,� I admitted reluctantly.

  �Exactly.� Chelsea crossed her slender arms over her chest. She was supermodel flat. �What do you think, Amy?�

  Amy had been quiet during the whole exchange. She dropped a Ping-Pong ball on the Ping-Pong table on the far side of the room. It bounced, she caught it. Dropped it again, watched it bounce, caught it. She appeared to be more interested in the ball than in the argument.

  �Maybe we should all sleep upstairs. There are three bedrooms up there. That way it would, like, be fair.�

  Chelsea looked at her as though she�d suggested driving her Gremlin up the stairs and parking it inside.

  �But this bedroom is the largest, with the biggest bed, and its own bathroom! It�s crazy not to use it.�

  �So I�ll use it,� I said.

  �Not fair!�

  �Chelsea, it�s where my grandparents sleep.�

  �But they aren�t here,� she said again.

  We�d barely gotten the car unloaded and the groceries put away when this discussion had started. All our boxes, all our things were scattered around the living room�which was also the TV room, the game room, the library. It was the center of the house, where everyone gathered during family get-togethers. I had a lot of memories of this room, but this was the first time that I could remember having an argument in here. I�d never realized how the room echoed.

  �I�m not going to sleep upstairs,� I said firmly. Wasn�t that what you were supposed to do when you were living on your own? Take your stand and stick to it?

  �Well, neither am I,� Chelsea said. She plopped down on the couch, her arms still crossed, her nose in the air.

  �Fine,� I said sweetly. �You can sleep right there.�

  I picked up one of my boxes and started for the bedroom.

  �Jennifer!� Chelsea jumped to her feet like someone had set a lit firecracker beneath her. �You can�t just take the room.�

  �Maybe we could share the room,� Amy suggested.

  �Right!� Chelsea said. �Three empty bedrooms upstairs, and one crowded one down here. I don�t think so.�

  �That�s not what I meant,� Amy said, still bouncing the ball.

  I had this terrible urge to snatch it away from her. The constant clicking as it hit the table was really setting my nerves on edge.

  �I meant,� Amy continued, �that we could take turns.�

  �I don�t want to get my room arranged and then have to switch rooms. I�ll never feel moved in,� Chelsea said.

  �Then stop arguing and take a room upstairs,� I told her.

  �No.�

  �It won�t be that bad to move our stuff around at the end of each month,� Amy said. �Besides, it would be fun. We�d have different views all summer, and something to look forward to.�

  �The views aren�t that different,� Chelsea said. �Water. Water. Water.�

  �The views are very different,� Amy said. �The bay, the far side of the island, and the Gulf. I wouldn�t be able to choose my favorite, because each is special.�

  �When did you turn into Pollyanna?� Chelsea asked.

  We were off to such a bad start. I couldn�t believe it.

  �No,� I said with a sigh. �Amy is right. We can each have the large bedroom for a month.�

  �I get it first,� Chelsea announced.

  �Could you be any more self-centered?� I asked.

  �I�m not self-centered, I just want it first.�

  �We could play Ping-Pong for it,� Amy suggested. Her brown eyes were watching us intensely, and I knew this continual arguing was making her uncomfortable. You�d think she�d be used to it, growing up with four brothers.

  �Not Ping-Pong,� I said. I walked to the bookshelves. I knelt, opened the doors in the lower portion, and pulled out the Monopoly game.

  �Not Monopoly,� Chelsea whined.

  �Not Monopoly,� I agreed. �Just the dice.�

  I took them out of the box and carried them to the Ping-Pong table. �We each get one roll. Highest roll gets it the first month, second highest the second month, and the lowest gets it last. Agreed?�

  Chelsea and Amy exchanged glances, then both nodded. Thank goodness. This was so not the way that I�d planned to start the summer. I handed Chelsea the dice. �You can go first.�

  She threw a five and a four.

  Amy threw a two and one. She would definitely have the room the last month. No way was I going to throw something lower than a three. What I really wanted was to have the room first, because I figured by the end of the month everyone would be settled and no one would want to switch. A little tricky thinking there, but I was certain that was the way it would go.

  �Come on double six,� I whispered as I blew on the dice. Shook them in my palm. Blew on them again.

  �Come on already,� Chelsea said. �Throw �em.�

  I shook, blew, tossed them.

  Snake eyes. Two.

  The disappointment overwhelmed me. I couldn�t believe how very much I�d wanted to start my summer in that bedroom. Instead, I would end the summer with it. All right. So be it. I could be a good sport about this. I really could.

  I went into the kitchen, took the complimentary bait-and-tackle calendar that my granddad got each year from the sporting goods store off the wall, grabbed a pen, and walked back into the living room. Chelsea was already moving her boxes into the room I wanted.

  �Chelsea, come here.�

  �I won.�

  �I know you did, but I want us to agree when the room switching will take place.� I wrote her name on the square for today. �Thirty days from now��I lifted the calendar page��Amy will move into the room.�

  I wrote her name on the designated date. �Thirty days later, I�ll move into it.� I looked at them. �Does everyone agree?�

  They nodded.

  �Initial the calendar,� I ordered.

  �Who put you in charge?� Chelsea asked.

  �I just don�t want anyone saying that she didn�t understand how we were going to work this.�

  �She�s right,� Amy said. �We�re supposed to work together.�

  We initialed the calendar, the pictures of various open-mouthed fish bearing witness.

  �Great!� Chelsea said. �Let�s finish moving in.�

  She moved across the living room and into the bedroom with a lithe catlike walk that came with her willowy height.

  �My mom told me to expect that we�d have to make some adjustments,� Amy said to me. �It�s kinda like being married.�

  �It�s nothing like being married. Married people don�t argue about which bedroom to sleep in.�

  �She snores. Do you really want to sleep with her?�

  I couldn�t stop myself from smiling. �No. I just�whenever I thought of the summer, I saw myself in that room.�

  �You�ll have it in two months.�