Dog Beach Unleashed (22 page)

“Sure, why not?” he says with his eyes closed. “You might want to do it sooner rather than later, though. My mom and her sisters are coming back. They're in the process of selling the building. Some big hotel developer is buying it.”

“What? Really?”

“Yup.” He stares at me for a second. “I don't know why I'm telling you this. I think I'm still asleep.” He closes his eyes and then opens them again. “Later, Remy.”

As the days go by, more and more people come back to Seagate. Dogs, too. Tabby's back. So is Potato Salad. No sign of Ritzy, though. No Lester, either.

We offer to watch the dogs, and people seem appreciative. But it's not the same. One dog for an hour. Another later on. It's not camp anymore, really; it's more like babysitting. But it's better than nothing.

After an afternoon spent washing and brushing Tabby, I see Calvin down the block as I walk home.

“Hey, I was looking for you!” Calvin shouts.

“Yeah?” I ask.

Out of breath, he says, “I have amazing news! Sundae Best reopened.” He pauses for a second to catch his breath. “I was thinking that, um, we could go together.”

I let the good news wash over me. Sundae Best is open. Calvin wants to go together. Things really are looking up. “They're stocked and ready to go?”

“Yup. Come on.” He grabs my hand.

I want to ask Calvin if this is, like, our first official date, since our FaceTime chat wasn't really a date. A date needs to be in person, two people face-to-face, I think.

But truthfully, I don't think it matters what we call it. It doesn't need a label, and neither do we.

“I'm so happy you're back,” I tell Josie, Sundae Best's owner. “Seagate isn't Seagate without Sundae Best.”

“Happy to be back,” she says. “We don't have all the flavors yet, but we've got a pretty good selection. Give us a day or two and we'll be fully back in action.”

“Did you guys have any damage to the store?” Calvin asks.

For some reason, this makes me really proud of him. I'm proud that he's so concerned about Josie and her ice cream shop. I'm proud that he cares about others enough to ask.

“Nope. We got very lucky,” she says. “I was worried about the freezer being flooded. But I guess God loves ice cream.” She laughs and points to the sign above the shop door that says
ICE CREAM IS MY RELIGION
. And we laugh together.

“Josie, may I have a Surprise Scoop?” I ask.

Calvin gasps. “Remy Boltuck, getting a Surprise Scoop?”

I like that he knows that about me, that I've never wanted to be surprised. That he knows, then, that this is a big deal. And that I
can
handle change.

“People change, Calvin.” I lift my eyebrows, all self-assured. “People change.”

I select my current favorite for the first scoop—chocolate milk and cookies—and Josie gives me banana marshmallow for the Surprise Scoop.

Delicious. Unexpected. A surprise.

Calvin picks mango sorbet and gets a Surprise Scoop of strawberry cheesecake.

So we sit, and we eat our ice cream. We have the whole shop to ourselves. Josie busies herself in the back, probably getting things organized, or maybe she wants to give us some privacy.

On the walk home, Calvin tells me that he's mastered something.

“What is it?” I ask.

“I've been practicing and practicing.” He pauses, puts his hands on my shoulders, and looks right into my eyes.

Oh no. Is he talking about kissing? And he's been
practicing
? On other girls? No, that can't be. But I don't think I'm ready for this. “Wait, Calvin, I—”

“Aaaaheeeeoowwww!”

Despite his scream, I heave a sigh of relief. The biggest sigh of relief I've ever let out in my entire life.

He wasn't talking about kissing. He was talking about screaming. Mr. Brookfield's famous scream, to be exact.

“Wow,” I say. “That was very impressive.” I act nonchalant, as if I wasn't worried at all about having my first kiss in
front of the statue of Melvin Jasper, the first person ever to come to Seagate Island.

“I knew you'd be proud,” he says.

“I am. So proud.”

We walk home, and Calvin tells me about how he's been practicing and that next summer he wants to help his grandpa with the Scream Contest. Last summer we had an amazing one, which not only was super fun but also let the entire island learn that Mr. Brookfield was in the movies. Or at least his scream was. But Mr. Brookfield is a real film star to us.

“It's cool. My grandpa and I have this new connection now,” he says.

I feel a little silly that I thought he was going to kiss me.

“Plus, it really helps me get out my anger,” he says. “So it's good for a lot of things.”

“That's true. I guess it's always better to get out your feelings. In whatever way you can,” I say. “Claire taught me that.”

“Yeah,” he says. “I have a long way to go before I get to Claire's level of letting things out. She says whatever pops into her head. But I'm getting there.”

I nod and offer a reassuring smile.

“I'll walk you home,” he says. “Okay?”

“Okay,” I say. My stomach rumbles, despite the ice cream we just ate.

“What are you having for dinner?” he asks. “Hopefully
Frederick's Fish reopens soon. I know you love it there.”

“I'm not sure what we're having, actually.”

Calvin tells me how his mom always has a meal schedule. Mondays they have pasta, Tuesdays they have salmon, Wednesdays they have stir-fry, and so on.

I listen carefully, because there's something about the way Calvin tells a story. He makes whatever he's talking about sound so fun. He gives details, but not too many—just enough. And I always want to know what he's going to say next.

“So, Fridays you have chicken?” I ask.

And then he stops walking. So I stop walking, too. I'm not sure why he stops.

I ask, “Chicken on the bone? Or chicken cutlets?”

He doesn't answer.

He kisses me instead.

He kisses me right there in front of the farm stand that hasn't reopened yet. He kisses me right on the lips.

He pulls back from the kiss. “Chicken cutlets. With onions.”

I cover my mouth, laughing and laughing. Part nervous laugh, part real laugh. Laughing because we just kissed, my first real kiss, and he's still talking about Friday-night chicken.

“Phew,” he says. “I've been thinking about doing that for a long time. I'm glad it's done.”

“Do you mean you're glad it's over?” I ask, embarrassed.

With lowered eyes, he says, “No. I was just nervous about it. I'm glad I got up the courage.”

“Me too.”

When we get to my house, he tells me to have a good dinner, and he says, “So, I'll see you tomorrow?”

“Yup.”

I wonder if I should tell Micayla, or anyone, or if I even want to. But I push all of that away for now. I like that it's a secret only the two of us know.

It turns out that the impromptu Centennial
Summer celebration needs to be really impromptu. Like, tomorrow.

Josh's mom and aunts are coming with the buyer in two days. Something about proving to them that the building was able to withstand the storm, and something else having to do with taxes and deadlines and all this stuff I don't understand.

Mrs. Pursuit tells me that we can't get any carnival rides, because even though they're from an off-island place, many of them were damaged in the storm.

“We'll just make do with what we have,” Mrs. Pursuit says, and I can't tell if she's saying that for me or for herself. It looks like she's walking around with a cloud of disappointment over her head. But I don't feel that way. Not at all.

After your first kiss, you walk around with the sun shining
down on you, day and night. You stop at every mirror to see if you look different, to see if anything about you has changed. I can't really see the difference, but I feel that there's a little bit of ballet in every step I take.

“I'll put up these posters, and you hand out these fliers and tell everyone to show up around noon. And I'll go around to whatever restaurants are open and ask them to bring food. It'll be great,” Mrs. Pursuit says with a sigh. “Okay?”

“We don't have to do this, you know,” I tell her. “Maybe Seagate isn't ready for it yet.”

Somehow I feel that she's doing this for me. Maybe only for me. To cheer me up.

“No, we
need
to,” she says. “We need to boost the spirits on the island. Plus, like you said a long time ago, one hundred years is a big deal.”

“I said that?” I ask her.

She hands me the stack of fliers. “Yes. And you were right.”

I convince the others to come help me hand them out. It feels a little funny to be with Calvin and the rest of the group. We have this secret that nobody else knows. And every few minutes, our eyes will meet, and we'll grin.

When we're done passing out the fliers, we set up chairs in the hotel lobby and make sure the stage area has a working microphone and outlets nearby. The vendors will set up outside.

“They're really selling this place?” Bennett asks me.

I shrug. “That's what Josh said.”

“But it's the only hotel on Seagate. It won't be the same if it becomes part of some big chain,” Micayla says. “There are a few bed-and-breakfasts, but not many. Where will all the guests stay for my wedding? I need a place with character.”

“You're getting married?” I giggle. “You didn't tell us!”

She plops down on one of the chairs. “You know what I mean. Eventually.”

“Well, this will still be a hotel,” I say. “Maybe it won't be that bad. And who knows? Maybe Josh can buy it back one day. When he's older, when either his acting or his veterinary career takes off.”

“I guess,” she groans.

“Who's getting married?” Bennett asks, making it clear he was eavesdropping as he set up chairs.

“Micayla,” I say.

“I'll be a bridesmaid,” he says.

I giggle. “Huh? You mean a groomsman.”

“No, at my cousin Lola's wedding, she had a male bridesmaid, her best friend since first grade,” he explains. “Everyone thought it was cool. I thought it was cool, too.”

“I can't wait for my wedding,” Micayla says. “There will be flowers everywhere . . .”

As Micayla goes on and on, I see Calvin in the back of the room, finishing a row of chairs. I turn around to get a glimpse of him.

And it makes me wish I could peek into the future right
now. For one tiny second, I'd like to pull the curtain back to reveal my wedding day. I want to see who the groom is and what I'm wearing and if Micayla is my maid of honor. But then I close the imaginary curtain and put the idea out of my mind.

Instead I think about Calvin. And my first kiss. And how much I like him. And how proud I am that he's such a caring person.

And I also think about Bennett. I'm so lucky to have a best friend who's both a boy
and
willing to be a bridesmaid at a wedding.

I don't care about pulling the curtain open again, because right now feels pretty good.

“Welcome, everyone,” Mrs. Pursuit says. There
are only about thirty people there. “We couldn't let Seagate's centennial summer pass without some kind of celebration. It's been a rough season, and we've faced some tough times, but we're still here.” She laughs. “We're Seagaters. We're resilient. So, sit back and enjoy the show.”

Most of the people who signed up to perform are back on the island. And they take the stage, one by one, entertaining people, making everyone smile. It's not the same as we imagined it, with a view of the ocean and carnival rides, but it's something. And we're happy to have it.

The father-son juggling duo wows the crowd.