Wicked Sweet Read Free

been gone more than an hour when one of the boys messed in his swim diaper. Jillian had to go to the car for a clean one. She came back empty-handed and furious, but she wouldn’t tell me why. When her mom showed up with her hand shoved in the back pocket of the boyfriend’s jeans (and without ice cream), Jillian grabbed my arm and pulled me toward an empty picnic table where no one could hear us.
    “She was never even planning to get us ice cream,” she said, her body vibrating with fury. “Promise me we’re never going to end up like her.”
    And that’s when we made the pact: friends first, grades second, boyfriends not on the list.
    I don’t know how, or if, I should remind Jillian of the circumstances of our pact. Jillian’s mom is better than she was that summer, I think. She’s had the same boyfriend for over two years now and Jillian even likes him. But you have to be careful with your best friend, even when you have a good reason to tell the hard truth.
    Jillian’s hard truth must be that I need a bikini because she says,
“Don’t you think we could still be hot even if we weren’t looking for boyfriends? We could like, be hot, just for ourselves.”
    Not again.
    “Our own personal satisfaction?” I hadn’t really thought of it that way.
    “Well, I’m saying it’s possible, don’t you think, to look hot and not have a boyfriend or be on the lookout for one?”
    “It might be … counterproductive.”
    “Huh?”
    “Time. Money. Unwanted male attention.”
    “Not unwanted. Unreciprocated.” It’s strange to be on the opposing side of one of Jillian’s debates. “It’s about choice.”
    Jillian sits up, looks down at the watch I gave her last Christmas. It’s only 2:45. The hour we have left leaves us lots of time to plan our summer project. She takes off her sunglasses, scans the hill, and then turns to me. “Chantal, we’re number one and two in the class. We spend our summers on projects that are, let’s face it, pretty lame. I think we need to do what the other seniors are doing.”
    “Joust with swim noodles in the hallways? Catch a goose and drop it into the cafeteria? Dress up like gorillas and chase people dressed up like bananas?” While I list all the things that the students in our class have done this year that we think are stupid and would never be part of, she alternately looks at her watch and then at the lake. My listing trails off when I see the catastrophe coming our way: two guys, Parker and Will.
    Parker is shirtless and it’s clear he’s been doing more than studying. His shoulders have grown wider and he’s bleached his hair. He is far from the nerdy A student he was in junior high. Will hasn’t transformed much. Still average all around, still Parker’s sidekick. He, too, is shirtless. Parker waves to someone at the top of the hill. I notice movement from my periphery, of sunglasses being lifted, a raised arm, and a hand waving back.
    “Jillian?”
    “He wants to talk about physics. The study group. That’s all.”
    “I … I … School’s over.” I squint at the bottom of the hill. Parker and Will are taking the long way up, along the beach and up the other side of the hill. So they can show off their biceps and abs. I need a cupcake, but I can’t eat in front of them.
    “He specifically said physics.”
    I give her the look that says, do I appear to have a brain malfunction? Didn’t I just say that he and Annelise broke up?
    “Okay,” she concedes. “It’s probably not about physics. He was sort of checking me out. But, really, they just want to talk to us. It’s talking.”
    “I knew something was up with the bikini.”
    “Chantal. I still want to do a summer project. Look, we can plan it after they leave. We can raise money for Africa. That would be fun.” When she smiles, I feel like I’m at the doorway to her exciting life and she’s handing out charity.
    “As a favor, you mean?”
    “I mean I still want to do a summer project,”