Vacations from Hell
“Every year I promise myself I’ll bring less,” she confessed. “I never quite manage it.”
He smiled even more broadly. “That means you want to be prepared for anything.”
Gorgeous, polite, and understands the value of thorough preparation. I’ve got to be dreaming.
“Cecily?” Mom called from the steps of the house. “Are you two going to stand out there all day?”
“Coming!” Cecily answered. The Gorgeous Polite Guy laughed softly as he toted the bags inside.
Her sandals squished against the floor as she came into the beach house, which they were supposed to call “Ocean’s Heaven.” (All the houses at the Outer Banks had stupid beach-pun names, and they had driftwood sculptures on the walls and bedspreads with patterns of pelicans or seashells.) Cecily’s T-shirt and cropped cargos stuck to her in weird, uncomfortable folds, and her makeup had probably all been washed into the sand. What would Gorgeous Polite Guy think? Quickly she wrung out her bedraggled ponytail and parted her dripping bangs—to see Kathleen Pruitt.
“There you are,” Kathleen said. “I was just asking Mom where you could be. You look just the same!”
Drops of water from Cecily’s soaked clothing pattered onto the rug of the beach house. “Wow, thanks.”
If Kathleen noticed the sarcasm, she ignored it. Cecily would’ve liked to add a snide comment about Kathleen’s appearance in return, but unfortunately Kathleen looked great. Super-great, actually. She wasn’t that much cuter than Cecily, who in moments of hard honesty would’ve called them both “average,” but the Pruitts had a little more money to spend on clothes, makeup, and highlights for Kathleen’s hair. It made a difference, one that Kathleen didn’t let Cecily forget.
Outside, thunder boomed, suggesting Cecily was going to be stuck inside with Kathleen for a very long time.
“Kathleen’s been asking and asking about you!” said Mrs. Pruitt, who was hugging Mom. “Just couldn’t wait to catch up with her best summer bud!”
Bud. Ugh. Cecily forced a smile. “Seems like we were here only yesterday.”
“Oh, Cecily,” Kathleen singsonged as she gestured toward the bathroom. “Did you meet Scott?”
From the bathroom stepped Gorgeous Polite Guy, a.k.a. Scott. He had a towel slung around his shoulders, which he had apparently just used to dry his hair, which was now delectably tousled. Before Cecily could think about all the ways she would have liked to muss his hair for him, she saw, to her horror, that he was walking straight toward Kathleen—who snuggled against him in satisfaction.
In the background she could hear Kathleen’s mother saying, “Well, we thought Scott could room with Theo, if that’s all right with you. He’s such a nice young man—you’ll love him. His parents gave their permission so I thought why not let Kathleen bring her boyfriend?”
Boyfriend. This amazing, incredible, perfect guy is Kathleen Pruitt’s boyfriend. There is no justice. There is no God. Okay, maybe there’s a God, but justice? None.
Kathleen smiled even more broadly. “Did you bring anyone along this year, Cecily?”
Cecily would’ve shaken her head, but Theo piped up, “I tried to bring Pudge, but they wouldn’t let me. Pudge is my hamster.”
Kathleen whispered to Scott, just loud enough for Cecily to overhear, “He named it after his sister.”
Scott didn’t laugh at Kathleen’s mean little joke. He frowned, playing dumb, as though he didn’t get it, though of course he must have. No, he was too polite to laugh at something so mean. Too nice. Too good. That made the situation even worse.
Kathleen had somehow managed to get her hooks into a guy who was tall, handsome, polite, and totally non-evil. (In other words, a guy with whom she had nothing in common.) Obviously she intended to use her new relationship to make Cecily feel as small and alone as possible. And the rain was only falling harder.
It’s official, Cecily thought. I am in hell.
Part Two
SELF-IMPROVEMENT GOALS: REVISED
During this hellish week at the Outer Banks I will:
continue to be nice to Theo, and never ever once give in to the temptation to ask him about Scott, because I do not care about Scott
talk to Scott as little as possible, because I should avoid any guy who would decide to date Kathleen of his own free will
really concentrate during the coven meetings and turn this into a learning experience, because, let’s face it, as a vacation, it’s already pretty much ruined
remember that I am too good to notice the bitchery of Kathleen Pruitt, even though said bitchery is big enough to be seen from outer space