“It is very warm today,” Emmy said as we drove home from school that afternoon.

“Yeah, it’s what’s called a ‘Santa Ana’. Hot dry wind blows in from the desert. Supposed to be like this all week, and get even hotter for the weekend,” I said.

“Hotter than this? It is almost the middle of November! It must be thirty-two degrees, perhaps more!” Emmy exclaimed.

“Thirty-two? Yeah, in Celsius. We use the Fahrenheit scale here. So it would be… um… divide by five, multiply by nine… add thirty-two… yeah. Ninety degrees. That’s what the bank sign back there said. This is hotter than most Santa Anas, but it isn’t unusual.” I realized I was talking like Mr. Pacheco, our AP chemistry teacher, so I shut up.

“It is going to be even hotter this weekend? We should have a pool party at my house. That would be so much fun!” Getting even more excited the more she thought about it, Emmy asked “What do you think? Is it a crazy idea, to have a pool party in November?”

“No, I think it could be fun. I know everybody is dying to see your house, too,” I said.

“Everybody wants to see my house? Why would that be?” she wondered.

“Well, I have to admit that might be at least partly my fault I’ve been telling everybody that it’s really amazing. You don’t mind, do you?” I asked, suddenly worried I’d overstepped my bounds.

“No, That is O.K. In truth, perhaps it is a very good thing, if it causes more people to want to come to our party!” she said, with that wide-eyed enthusiasm of hers.

“Who should we invite? Courtney, Allie and Tom, of course. Andy must come, too. Who else?”

Her enthusiasm was infectious, and we brainstormed on a guest list all the way to my place. Too soon, we pulled up in front of my apartment building. As we said goodbye and she gave me one of those little cheek kisses I was finally getting used to, Emmy said she’d talk to her parents about the party to make sure it would be O.K.

“Do not talk to anybody about the party until I know it will be all right,” she cautioned.

With that, she took off to her house.

My mom thought the idea of a pool party in November was more than just a little bit amusing, but she did admit that the weather certainly was warm enough for it.

“They’re predicting that this Saturday may be the hottest day of the year. We didn’t have much of a summer this year, after all” she said.

It was tough explaining to Tiffy that this was going to be a teenager party and she wouldn’t have very much fun, but she finally accepted the idea that she couldn’t go when Mom promised her that the two of them would do something together instead.

When Emmy picked me up for school the next morning, she said she’d gotten the go ahead from her parents.

“There are some restrictions, though. No more than twenty guests, and I have to keep the budget under one thousand dollars,” she told me.

“A thousand bucks? For a pool party? What could you possibly spend that kind of money on?” I asked, bewildered.

“Food, drinks, entertainment… the things any party needs,” Emmy said.

“Do you think Stephen spent anything like that for his Halloween party? Not a chance. All we need are a bunch of pizzas and a run to Costco for drinks. A couple of hundred should leave us plenty left over,” I explained, a bit exasperated.

“Pizza? No, we could never do that,” she said, making a face. “Marie-Anne would never forgive me for such a thing. Still,” she mused. “I understand what you mean. There is no great need for anything elaborate. I will discuss it with Marie-Anne tonight.”

By this time we’d gotten to our usual stop at the drive-up coffee shop by the post office, so we really didn’t discuss the party much after that.

“I still do not understand why school starts so very early. Before six thirty? Ridiculous!” Emmy complained. “It is not civilized.”

Sipping my mocha, I had to agree. These coffee stops had become one of the highlights of my day, once Emmy had introduced me to the habit. I’d never been much of a fan of the bean, but now I’d have a really hard time in the mornings without it. I still can’t stand the espressos that she likes, but I’ll probably get there some day.

At lunch we broke the idea of a pool party to Allie, Tom and Courtney. “Sounds great!” gushed Courtney. “But I need a new bikini. I have a couple of days… I’d better get shopping.”

Tom said “You don’t need a new suit at all. Just wear the one you got for your birthday. Everybody’d love that!” he teased.

Courtney punched him on the shoulder and said “Yeah, great idea. I’d just bet you’d love that, wouldn’t you?” she said, rolling her eyes.

Noticing Emmy’s puzzled look, Allie explained. “In American slang, a birthday suit is completely nude. It’s the suit you got the day you were born.”

Understanding, Emmy joined in the laughter. “I guess that would be O.K. if you want…” she said, pensively.

“Oh, no! I don’t think so! These are not for public display!” Courtney tucked her arm under her breasts and gave them a lift. “No way. Sorry to disappoint you,” she teased Tom. “Anyway, Allie is the one who everybody wants to see naked, not me. She’s the one with the rack. I don’t think those baggy clothes she always wears fool anybody!”

Allie, blushing, gave Courtney a little shove. “Shut up!” she said.

Courtney, returning to the original subject, asked “So who are you going to invite?” That prompted pencils and paper, and soon a list was going.

Twenty people is both a lot in some ways, and a little in some ways. It’s enough that it’s beyond just immediate friends, but not so many you can just add anybody to the list. You have to think about the politics of it, too. Invite one person, but not her best friend? That’s tough.

It took us the rest of the lunch break to figure out who would be on the list, and it was clear there would be some we were forgetting.

Emmy insisted on a couple of invites that surprised me. Martin Lopez from the basketball team had been at Stephen’s party, but other than that I had no idea how she knew him. A recurring theme, it seemed to me. She also wanted to invite Stephanie Houk, which really surprised me.

“She hates you!” I blurted.

“Really?” Emmy asked, a look of doubt on her face. “Then she won’t accept, and that will free up another spot. But I think she will.”

Of course, Stephen and Sara had to be invited together, now that they were inseparable. Andy and Jordan, Mindy and a few others and the list was at twenty.

Emmy rushed off to catch a few on the list before lunch was over, leaving the rest of us to wonder about some of her choices.

“What’s with her inviting the cheerleaders?” Allie asked. “I get the impression they all hate her.”

“Well, I don’t think Mindy Stock does. In fact, I think the two are getting to be good friends. She was over at Emmy’s house last week. But I do think Stephanie hates Emmy, and I know for sure some of the other girls do, too” I answered.

Courtney suggested “Maybe it’s some kind of exploratory test or something. Emmy is trying to figure out who her friends are, and who are her enemies.”

I started to object that that was way too calculating, but then shut up. Thinking about the Halloween party and the Jake thing, Courtney’s idea made more and more sense.

After school, on the drive home, Emmy confirmed our suspicions. “I asked Stephanie, and she said she would come to the party,” she said.

“She did?” I blurted, surprised.

“Well, I had to make sure Candace wasn’t around when I asked. If Candace had been there I think Stephanie would have said no,” Emmy admitted.

“Courtney was right, then. She thought some of your invites were politically motivated,” I said.

Looking at me with that look of surprise I was getting used to, Emmy said “But of course! If I can gain support from the head of the cheerleaders, the rest will follow. It is elementary. The trick, though, is to not let it seem as if that is the motivation,” she explained. “But it is not all about that, either. I think if she gets away from her clique she perhaps might be very fun. And she is very pretty, and having a lot of pretty girls at the party will make the boys feel better, too.”

“Yeah, well…” I replied, still unconvinced.

Changing the subject, Emmy said “Courtney made me think. I need a new bathing suit as well. The three of us should go shopping! Maybe Allie could go, too!” she said with her typical enthusiasm.

“Maybe we could bring Tom, Too, so he could see us trying bikinis out” I said, rolling my eyes.

“No, I do not think he’d be very interested,” Emmy replied. “We could go down to the city! Let us make an afternoon of it! Perhaps tomorrow after your practice?”

“No, I don’t think I’m up for it. My old swim suit is fine,” I objected.

“Oh, no. It will be my present to you. I will buy you a new bathing suit- but I get to pick it out,” She insisted.

“All right. But nothing too crazy, though,” I said, giving in. It was nice having a rich friend, but it made me feel guilty about taking her up on offers like that, too. I don’t think Emmy ever thought I was using her for her money, but the way she kept spending it on me was more than a little bit embarrassing.

“Perfect! Call Courtney and Allie and let us get it arranged,” urged Emmy.

The next day after volleyball practice Emmy and I went back to my house so I could take a quick shower, then we picked up Courtney and Allie at Allie’s house.

“Hey! Why do you get to drive?” demanded Courtney, giving me an accusatory look.

“It is because she is a better driver than me,” said Emmy, “and she also knows the way.”

“I know the way, too!” exclaimed Courtney. “And besides, you’ve got a GPS! Can I drive on the way back? I love these Minis, and I’ve always wanted to drive one.”

“No way!” yelled Allie. “You can’t drive for shit!”

“Oh come on, please?” wheedled Courtney. “I love these cars! And yours is the coolest Mini I’ve ever seen, too” she said, admiringly.

Laughing, Emmy said “Yes, you can drive it on the way back. It has lots of airbags, but please do not crash. I would hate to have to buy another car. I like this one.”

That settled, we hit the road. We decided to go to the big swimwear shops down by the beach in San Diego. There are a couple of really good ones right on Mission Boulevard, and it would be a good excuse for a little road trip.

Southbound on the freeway, Courtney asked “How fast can this thing go? It’s the sporty version, right?”

“I do not know,” replied Emmy, thoughtfully.

“Open it up!” Courtney demanded to me. “Let’s see what it can do!”

“Not a chance!” I responded. “I want to keep my license, and anyway, it’s just a bad idea.”

“Worry wart!” yelled Courtney, pounding the back of my seat.

“Shut up, Courtney!” said Allie. “I’m not so sure you ought to drive on the way back after all.” Seriously, I was beginning to think Allie was right, and maybe Courtney’s enthusiasm might get us into trouble.

“Look at that!” I said, pointing to the freeway shoulder. There was a CHP officer standing next to his motorcycle, with his radar gun out and aimed at the traffic. “See, I told you it was a bad idea.”

“Yeah, well, just random chance,” Courtney grumbled. After we saw our sixth CHP vehicle before we even got to San Diego, though, she had to admit that speeding on this stretch of road was just asking for it. “I’ve never seen so many cops patrolling the freeway before! They must be on some kind of crackdown program,” she said, trying to regain the conversational high ground. I don’t think it really worked, though. Even Courtney seemed to realize that speeding was just not going to be on the agenda today.

Getting off the freeway, we soon passed Sea World on our way to Mission Beach.

“What is that?” asked Emmy, pointing at the roller coaster visible from the road.

“That’s Sea World. They have a bunch of roller coasters and stuff, and a bunch of whale and dolphin shows, too,” said Allie. “Everything is ocean themed. I guess it used to be like an ocean zoo with fishes and dolphins, but now it’s more like Disneyland with all the rides. It’s fun, though. We have family passes, so we go every once in a while.”

“Do you think we will have time to go after shopping?” Emmy asked. “I have never been to any amusement parks. It seems like fun!” Her enthusiasm, like always, was infectious.

“No, I doubt it,” said Allie, thoughtfully. “I think they’re on winter hours now, so they close early on weekdays. Probably at six or something like that. Maybe we can come down on a weekend?” she suggested.

“I would love to do that!” Emmy agreed.

By that time we’d gotten to Mission Boulevard, and Emmy spotted the old wooden roller coaster at Belmont Park.

“Oh, look at that!” she said, excited. “We need to come down here as soon as we can! I cannot wait!”

I looked in the rear view mirror, and when Courtney saw me looking her way she rolled her eyes, as if to say “what a little kid she can be some times!” Inwardly I agreed, but I guess where Courtney found Emmy’s childlike enthusiasm irritating, I thought it was kind of cute.

We found a parking spot, and walked the few blocks to the swimwear place. At first it struck me as odd how everybody stared at us, then I realized it was Emmy they were all looking at. It occurred to me that I’d gotten so used to how she looked that I hardly even noticed it any more, and at school and the few other places I’d been with her she’d already become a common sight so nobody really stared any more. Here, though, everybody gaped. I became increasingly irritated, fighting a desire to start shouting at people to knock it off, to quit being so rude.

I guess the others were feeling the same way, too, because after a couple of blocks Courtney said to Emmy “You look like you don’t even notice how everyone stares at you. How can you stand it?” Allie nodded in agreement, clearly thinking similar thoughts.

“I have gotten used to it” Emmy said, simply. “I am no longer bothered by it. I understand that I look different, and people are curious. Besides,” she smiled at Courtney. “You stared just as much when I first came to school!”

Courtney looked a bit abashed, realizing that what Emmy said was true. Allie blushed a little, and I know I felt a bit chagrined.

“But once you got to know me, you became accustomed to my appearance, isn’t it true? Perhaps it would be exactly the same for all of these people. That thought helps me not be bothered by it. I try to think of it in a positive way.”

When Emmy put it in that perspective, I actually started to feel embarrassed for all the people we saw staring at her. Still, it bothered me. I wanted everybody to just leave her alone, and stop being so rude.

Allie, after a little bit, asked “Was it really like this when you first came to FHS? I mean, did everybody just stare at you?”

Emmy responded, laughing “It was much more than this. Much more. Now, very few even look twice, and those that do look at me are used to my appearance, so it is not about my looks any longer. Now, when people at school see me, they see Emmy, not some unusual, perhaps scary looking stranger.”

At the swimwear shop, Emmy reminded me “Do not forget, I get to choose a bathing suit for you. I will find the perfect one. Do not worry.”

“Oh, I’m worried, that’s for sure,” I responded. “I saw the outfit you wore at Halloween. Don’t expect me to wear anything too ridiculous.”

“Oh, please?” Emmy teased, holding up a hanger with nothing but a few bright pink strings and scraps of cloth the size of small postage stamps.

“Not a snowball’s chance in Hell!” I responded.

Pouting, in a great show of reluctance, Emmy put the so-called bikini back on the rack.

“No, I think you ought to wear it,” Courtney said from behind me.

“I will, if you will wear one just like it. Look, the yellow is your color.” I responded.

“No, a little too breezy for me. Thanks, though.” Courtney laughed.

I wandered over to see what Allie was looking at.

“I hate shopping for swimsuits,” she said, pouting. “They either make me look fat- well, fatter than I really am, anyway, or they look like something Grandma would wear. It’s depressing. I wish those old fashioned swim suits that went from your neck to your ankles would come back in fashion,” she lamented.

“Oh, come on. You’re not fat, Allie. You look great.”

“No, really. I hate my thighs,” she sighed, looking at racing styled one-pieces.

“With boobs like yours, you think any guys are even going to look at your thighs?” I teased. “Just get a sexy top and some board shorts and you’re good.”

“Oh, no. Not you, too. First it was Courtney giving me a hard time, and now you, too? Some friends you guys are.” She continued, “Dark colors are slimming, right?”

“No, Leah is correct,” Emmy said from behind me, making me jump.

“Jeeze, Emmy! Give me a heart attack, sneaking up like that!” I yelped.

“Sorry for startling you, Leah,” Emmy apologized. “Allie, Leah is right. You are a beautiful girl, and you should maximize your assets, as they say. If you want to hide your thighs, wear some shorts. But you need to wear a top that will show off your gifts.”

“My gifts?” Allie asked, puzzled.

“Your lovely curvy figure!” Emmy explained. “I wish I had curves like yours.”

“Well, thanks for the ego boost and all, but I wish I was nice and skinny like you!” Allie retorted.

“What are you guys talking about?” Courtney asked, as she walked over to where the rest of us were still talking.

“Allie’s boobs,” I replied.

“That’s a very big subject,” Courtney teased. “But what in specific?”

“I think Allie should show them off, but she is embarrassed by them,” explained Emmy.

“If I had a rack like yours, Allie, I’d make sure everybody knew it. I would use the power of boobs to great effect in my plans for world domination,” Courtney said, finishing with an evil genius laugh, rubbing her hands together.

“You, too?” Emmy asked.

By now, Allie had had enough, and said “Maybe I’ll just skip the pool party, after all.”

“No, no! You must come!” Emmy said. “I promise I will say no more. But I do believe that you should be proud, and not ashamed.”

Eventually, with Emmy’s help, Allie did pick out a cute pair of board shorts and a butterfly bikini top that satisfied her urge to cover up, and yet still made her look great.

Courtney had no such issues, and got a cute retro bikini in black with bright red cherries on them. The Betty Page look worked well with her dark hair.

I was a bit concerned, because I hadn’t seen Emmy for a little while, and who knew what she was finding for me? I looked around a bit, and found her by the dressing room, looking at herself in the mirror. She had on a little bikini top in a scorching lime green so bright I’m sure it had to be radioactive. Against her charcoal black skin it popped even more than it would have on a normal-looking person. The look was definitely eye-catching, that’s for sure. As eye-searing as the neon green bikini top was, though, what really caught my eye was just how lean and muscular Emmy was built. I’d always thought she was just very thin, but seeing her in nothing but that little bikini top from the waist up I could see how defined her arms and shoulders were, and how amazing her six-pack abs looked.

“Wow, Emmy. That’s intense,” Allie said, jolting me out of my staring session. “I could never wear anything like that.”

“I am not certain I like it. It is interesting, and it will turn heads, but I am not sure…” she trailed off, thoughtfully.

“Have you seen anything else you like?” I asked.

“Yes, yes I have. I will show you.” With that, she disappeared into the dressing room. She came out a moment later wearing a little bikini top in a black wet-look spandex, with a slightly silvery shine to it.

“I don’t know about that one,” Allie said, frowning a bit. “It looks like you aren’t wearing anything, because it kinda blends in.”

Courtney, who was just walking up, agreed. “From over there, when I looked at you I thought you weren’t wearing a top at all. Seriously, you looked naked.”

Smiling mischievously, Emmy said “You have made up my mind. The naked look it is.” Seeing the expressions on the other two girls’ faces (and mine, too, probably) Emmy laughed. “Oh, look at you all. It is just a bathing suit. If we were back in France I would not wear a top at all.” Thinking for a moment, she said “But if we were in France, we would not be having a pool party in November, either!” She gave one of her sparkly little laughs at the thought.

Turning to me, she said “I found the perfect bikini for you. It will look incredible on you.”

She went back into the dressing room to change, and came out a moment later holding up a hanger for me. It had a metallic-looking gold bikini, in sort of a Seventies cut. It looked like something Farrah Fawcett or somebody like that would have worn.

“Try it on,” Emmy commanded. “I want to see it.” Relieved that it wasn’t as outrageous as the suits she’d picked out for herself, I took the hanger and headed for the dressing room.

I had just gotten my shirt off when Emmy popped her head in the dressing room. “Let me see!” she demanded.

“Hey!” I yelled. “Give me some privacy!” I said, covering myself with my shirt.

“Hurry up!” she urged, pulling her head back out of the cramped space.

I quickly put the top on and emerged to where the others were waiting.

“It is perfect!” chirped Emmy, clapping her hands in excitement.

“It does look really good on you,” agreed Allie. “The gold really looks good with your coloring.”

Even Courtney had nothing negative to say, so I went back in the dressing room and tried on the bottoms. They fit well, and looking in the mirror I had to admit that Emmy had done a good job. I never would have picked this bikini out, but it was very flattering. I liked the cut of the bottoms, too- and they were a lot less racy than I’d expected Emmy to choose.

Changing back to my clothes, I emerged. Emmy took the hanger with the bikini on it from me and asked everybody “Are we done? Does everybody have what they want?”

We all agreed that we were in fact ready, and she quickly took the swimsuits from Allie and Courtney as well. “I am buying all of these. It is my gift to the three of you.”

Courtney and Allie protested, but Emmy was having none of it.

“It is my party, and I invited you. Otherwise, you would not have needed to buy these bathing suits. Therefore, it is the least I can do,” she said, ignoring the protests. “Besides, my parents gave me a budget for this party, and I want to use it.”

“Budget?” Courtney asked, as we walked towards the register.

“Her parents said she could spend a thousand bucks on this party,” I explained as Emmy paid for the swimsuits. “I’m not sure what they thought would cost so much, but the impression I got was that this was on the cheap as far as they were concerned.”

“A grand?” asked Allie, incredulous. “Really?”

“Yes,” said Emmy. “Leah says we can do it for perhaps two hundred dollars, so that means we may have eight hundred dollars to spend on other things associated with the party. Like roller coaster rides!” Her eyes were gleaming with excitement at the idea.

“I’m not sure I could stand eight hundred dollars worth of roller coaster rides,” Courtney said. “How about we just ride once or twice and call it good?”

“Yes!” Emmy agreed.

Walking back down Mission Boulevard towards the roller coaster we stopped at the car to drop off our new bathing suits. It was getting dark by this time, and the lights on the roller coaster were attracting Emmy like a moth to a flame.

“Hurry!” she urged, walking quickly.

“What’s your rush?” asked Courtney. “It’ll still be there in ten minutes.”

Emmy was practically dancing with enthusiasm. In fact, I realized she was dancing- literally. She was skipping, stepping and sliding all along the sidewalk to some music only she could hear. She was so excited by the prospect of the roller coaster that she was lost in her own little world.

Watching Emmy, Courtney snorted. “Would you just look at her? She’s like a little kid on a sugar high,” she scoffed.

“It’s cute,” Allie replied. “I wish I could be so passionate about things the way she is.”

I was thinking similar thoughts. Courtney was right. Emmy was just like a little kid in some ways, but Allie was right, too- Emmy’s childlike eagerness was very charming, and more than just a bit infectious. How many times had I seen that wide-eyed innocence of Emmy’s? It was a very endearing trait.

Walking towards the old roller coaster and thinking about Emmy’s innocence, a contradictory image entered my mind. I remembered how calculating and how… manipulative I guess, Emmy was during the whole thing with Jake Merrick. There was nothing innocent about that. She twisted him around her finger and destroyed him for her revenge. I mean, he was an evil bastard and had it coming, but she knew just what to do to get him where she wanted him- out of the picture entirely.

Trying to shrug off these thoughts of Emmy’s dark side, I focused on my three friends up ahead, realizing I’d gotten a bit behind. Hurrying to catch up, I saw that Emmy was doing a silly little soft-shoe slide, moonwalking along to amuse Allie and Courtney. It was pretty funny, and very odd looking. Somehow Emmy looked as if she were walking backwards, and yet was somehow moving forwards with the other two. Both Courtney and Allie were laughing, and Emmy had a big grin on her dark face.

My mood improved- after all, with Emmy’s clowning, how could I keep thinking negative thoughts about her?

“How do you do that?” asked Allie.

“She can’t. That’s not possible,” said Courtney. “It’s an optical illusion. It’s done with mirrors, like that Chris Angel guy on TV.”

Laughing her charming little laugh, Emmy spun around so she was facing back the way we had come. She somehow reversed her moonwalk, so now it looked as if she were walking back away from us, but continued moving forward at the same speed.

Courtney said “O.K., now you really gotta knock it off. You’re messing with my sense of reality.”

That got all of us laughing, at least partly because it was true. I couldn’t figure out how Emmy was doing it, either.

Emmy quit doing the backwards walking thing and hurried up to the ticket window to buy us rides on the creaky old roller coaster.

“I haven’t been on this thing in years,” I said, as we waited for the next train car.

“I’ve got you beat,” said Allie. “I’ve never been on it.”

“Me, I have never been on any roller coaster in my life!” said Emmy.

“O.K., you win,” replied Courtney. “This is a crummy first coaster, though. It’s old, and it’s really rough, too. If you want good roller coasters you really need to go to Magic Mountain.”

“Magic Mountain?” asked Emmy, puzzled.

“It’s an amusement park on the other side of L.A.,” Courtney explained. “They have some crazy coasters there.”

“Yeah, they do,” nodded Allie in agreement.

Emmy grabbed my hand and held it between both hers, just below her chin. “Oh, Leah! Can we go? Please?” she pleaded, just like a little kid again.

Laughing, I responded “Sure, why not? But you haven’t even been on this roller coaster yet. You don’t know if you like them or not.”

“Oh, I do! I love it! I can tell!”

The train arrived at that moment, and the departing passengers cleared out quickly.

“You guys take the front seat,” Courtney suggested. “Allie and I will sit right behind you.”

As the coaster clack clack clacked its way up the first climb, Emmy was positively buzzing with anticipation. Cresting the top and just beginning the drop, she grabbed my hand and held it, squeezing like a vise.

Screaming like the proverbial little girl, she never let go of my hand for the entire ride. I could hear Courtney and Allie laughing right behind us, tickled by Emmy’s behavior.

As the ride slowed to a stop, Emmy started babbling “Again! We must ride it again!”

Courtney laughed and said “Not me. That thing is too rough on my back. You guys go ahead.”

Allie also declined but I couldn’t make myself say no to Emmy, so we got two more tickets and got back in line.

“It felt as if all my internal organs were being tickled from the inside! Are all roller coasters like that?” Emmy asked, holding my hand and bouncing with excitement while we waited.

“Yeah, pretty much,” I agreed. “Courtney was right, though, this is a really old roller coaster and it’s small compared to the ones they build nowadays. If you want big thrills, we need to go to a real theme park.” In the back of my mind, I realized that Emmy was still holding my hand. I also realized with a little shock that it didn’t bother me any more. I guess I was just getting used to the way she was so physical in the way she showed her friendship. Maybe, I thought, it didn’t seem odd because it was so innocent a gesture, just as if she really were the little girl she seemed to be sometimes. In any case, I made no effort to get her to let go of my hand.

Our second ride was just like the first, Emmy crushing my hand in a death grip and screaming with every drop, no matter how small. It didn’t seem to make any difference that we’d just ridden it not five minutes before. She really is just like a little kid, I thought.

After we got off the coaster, Courtney held up her phone to take a picture of us. “Hey, let me ask someone to take our picture,” she said.

A surfer-looking guy who’d been staring at Emmy as if she were an alien from Mars agreed to take our picture, so we posed against a backdrop of the struts of the coaster. He took two pictures just to make sure one would turn out all right.

“That Blackberry of yours has a really bright flash,” Allie complained, rubbing her eyes.

“Sorry,” Courtney apologized. “It takes great pictures, though. Here, look,” she commanded, holding up the phone for the rest of us to see. She was right, it did look nice and crisp despite the tough lighting conditions below the coaster.

“Hey, I’m hungry,” Allie said. “Can we get something to eat?”

The ride back was uneventful, even with Courtney driving. She drove us through Mission Beach and then Pacific Beach, taking the slow way back to the freeway. When I objected that we were going the wrong way, she just replied “With a ride as sweet as this we have to profile a bit. This way we can check out all the hot surfer guys. That’s much better than just the shortest route back home.”

I started to object, but Emmy said from the back seat “I like to see the city. There is no need to rush back to Fallbrook, is there?” and she reached forward and gently squeezed my shoulder. “You do not mind, do you Leah?”

There really was no important reason to head back immediately and it was a beautiful warm night, so I relented. “O.K., O.K.! I’m O.K. with it if you guys want to sight-see some.” At Courtney, I said “Just keep your eyes on the road at least half the time, all right?”

“This car is really sweet, Emmy. How’s the sound system?” Courtney asked as she turned on the stereo. Emmy had one of her Euro-dance CDs in the slot, so the heavy techno beats filled the car. “All right! Kick it!” shouted Courtney, turning up the volume.

“Not so loud!” objected Allie from the back seat, so I turned the volume to a more reasonable level.

“Awww!” Courtney pouted, sticking out her lower lip in an exaggerated pout.

To her credit, Courtney drove carefully even while ogling all the cute guys that seem to fill the beach areas. She even drove reasonably close to the speed limit on the freeway back home, to my surprise.

I could hear Allie and Emmy talking in the back, but their voices were too quiet to hear over the music. Courtney was focused on the road, so I was left to my thoughts. Thinking about Emmy and her choice of bikinis, I was again struck by the contrasts in her behavior. On one hand, she was just as enthusiastic and innocent as my seven year old sister- just thinking about Emmy’s excitement about the roller coaster got me smiling. On the other hand, she picked out a bikini that made her look bare-assed naked, knowing that it would cause a stir at the party. Nothing innocent about that, is there? I’d been worried that she would pick out something outrageous for me, and yet what she chose was actually pretty tame, as far as bikinis go. She’d helped Allie pick out a combo that flattered her figure and yet was also modest enough to help her deal with her weight issues, so Emmy clearly understood people’s emotions about themselves.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Considering all the work that she’d put into the Halloween stunt with Sara, which was apparently planned for the sole purpose of hooking Sara up with Stephen, maybe I hadn’t been giving Emmy enough credit. Here I was thinking of her as just concerned with attention for herself, but maybe Emmy was a lot more aware of others than I’d realized.

Just then I was jolted out of my introspection by a sharp tickle on the side of my ribs. Emmy was leaning forward, and she asked “Are you doing all right, Leah? You are terribly quiet.”

“Yeah, sure. I was just thinking about things, that’s all,” I responded.

“What things?” she inquired.

“Oh, nothing serious. I was thinking about our swimsuits, and the party this weekend. That’s it.”

“You seem worried,” Emmy said in a concerned tone. Rubbing my shoulders gently, she continued “Do not be concerned. It will be a lot of fun. You will see.”

“No, I’m not worried about the party. Seriously, I was just thinking about the swimsuits you picked out and how different they are.” Emmy didn’t stop massaging my shoulders, but I didn’t complain. After all, it did feel good.

“Of course they are different!” Emmy exclaimed. “They are for different people! I could no more wear a bathing suit that is appropriate for you or Allie than you two could wear one that works for me. Different people, different styles. Very simple.”

Allie chimed in from the back seat, “Awww! But Emmy, I wanted to borrow your new suit! I think I would look faaabulous in it.” Emmy’s musical laughter mixed with Allie’s, and soon Courtney and I were also laughing at the image of Allie in a teeny little black bikini three sizes too small.

Soon we were back at Allie’s house, in a good mood and happy. Emmy and I said goodbye to Courtney and Allie, ignoring Tom’s demands that we model our new suits for him. “You will see them on Saturday. You will simply have to wait until then,” Emmy said.

Driving back to my house, Emmy said to me “I had a wonderful time this evening, Leah. Thank you very much.”

“You make it sound like we went on a date or something,” I objected.

“Really?” she asked. “Is that what people say after going on dates?”

“Well, yeah, usually. Something like that, anyway. Why? What do you say after a nice date?” I asked.

“I have never been on a date before,” Emmy said, a bit quietly, seeming to be lost in thought.

“You’re kidding me. You’ve never gone out with a boy? How is that possible?” I asked, surprised at the news.

“I have never been on a date,” Emmy confirmed. “I have never had a boyfriend.”

“But you like guys, right? You flirt all the time, and they sure seem to like you well enough. Why haven’t you? Do your parents not want you to date?” I asked, still amazed.

“No, it is not that my parents have prevented it. It is simpler than that. No boy has ever asked me out. Boys do seem interested in me, but I think perhaps they do not really like me, or perhaps they think they would be ashamed to be seen with me. I do not know. All I know is that I have never been asked on a date.” The sudden sadness in her voice at this thought was just as much of a surprise to me as the news that she’d never been out with a boy.

I pulled over to the side of the road to look at her. Emmy was not quite crying, but tears were definitely close to the surface. I unbuckled my seatbelt so I could lean across and I took her in my arms and gave her a long, tight hug.

“Look at me, Emmy. You are the prettiest girl at our school. The guys all think you’re smoking hot, and all of the girls just wish they could be as thin, as talented, and as pretty as you. Hell, I wish I could be those things. They say you can never be too rich, too thin, or too good looking and you’re all three.”

I took her shoulders in my hands and held her so she was looking straight in my eyes. Those big, brilliant green eyes of hers were full of tears, I saw.

I continued “If no boys have asked you out it’s because they’re intimidated, because you’re just too good for them. It has nothing to do with you; it’s only their insecurities. I know for a fact that at least a couple of guys have been trying to work up the courage to ask you out. Hell, if I were a boy, I’m sure I’d have a hard time working up to it, but I would. I’d be proud to have you as my girlfriend.”

“You really think so?” she asked, sounding hopeful. “You really do?”

“Hell yes, I do. Of course I do. You’re just being silly. You are hot property, babe. The hottest.”

With that, she collapsed into my arms again, and I just held her for a while, while she sobbed silently. After a few minutes, she regained her composure and sat back up. “Thank you, Leah. That means so very much to me.” She leaned forward and gave me a quick but firm hug. “Thank you.”

“What are friends for?” I asked, rhetorically.

I started driving again, and we finished the short distance to my apartment in silence.

We both got out of the car at my place, and Emmy gave me a hug again without saying a word. I held her, also without saying anything. Finally, she let me go, gave me one of those good-bye kisses I’d gotten used to by then, and got in her car and drove away.

Walking up the stairs to my apartment, I thought about what had just happened. I would never have guessed that Emmy could possibly have felt as insecure as all the rest of us do, but there it was.

Later, lying in bed trying to sleep, I couldn’t help thinking of Emmy sobbing to herself in my arms. It made me sad, too, to think that this girl we all envied was just as vulnerable and just as full of self-doubt as everybody else.

The next morning when she arrived to pick me up for school she was back to her usual cheerful self. She didn’t mention last night, and neither did I.

She had made up proper invitations, she said, showing me the invites with everybody’s names on them and maps to her house on the back. I noticed that below the map it said “Please carpool, Parking is limited. Rides can be arranged if necessary.”

“What does this mean, ‘rides can be arranged’?” I asked.

“If anybody cannot attend because they do not have a ride, I can send a driver out to pick them up.”

“Edouard?” I asked.

“No, Edouard would not be the one. It would be someone else.”

“In the limo? If word gets out that they’d be picked up in a limo, everyone will want a ride,” I said, laughing at the idea.

“I do not see why we couldn’t do that,” Emmy mused. “Perhaps that is a good idea. The limo only can carry six people, so it will need several trips. But if you and Courtney and Allie come over early to help me get things ready, then that leaves only seventeen to give rides to. That’s only three trips…”

“Yeah, but if each trip takes an hour then that means that some people will get to the party hours later than some others. I’m not sure it’s a good idea at all. I don’t think it’s a bad idea giving rides to one or two people but not everybody.”

“As always, Leah, you are the practical one,” Emmy teased. “I think you are right. Let people take their own cars to the party.”

The rest of the day passed quickly, and Saturday morning came before I was really ready. Edouard showed up a little before nine o’clock to pick me up, then I gave him directions to Allie’s house where we were going to pick up Tom, Allie and Courtney.

As usual, Edouard was polite but not very talkative. A “Good morning, Miss Farmer” was almost all I got out of him.

When we arrived at the Carter house Tom and Allie were ready, but Courtney hadn’t gotten there yet. Tom took advantage of the time to ask Edouard questions about the big BMW, like what size was the engine, how many horsepower, and other guy-type questions. Edouard didn’t seem bothered by this and actually popped the hood so Tom could check out the motor. Tom’s and Allie’s dad had joined the two by this time, because he was just as interested as Tom was.

Courtney showed up just about then, so the four of us piled in, Courtney up front and me sandwiched between the twins.

Allie said “I don’t think I’ve ever been in such a fancy car. This is super nice,” running her hands over the glove-soft leather seats. “Before Emmy got her Mini, she used to give you rides in this car, right?” she asked me.

“Yeah, for a couple of weeks, I guess,” I responded.

Tom, dying to share some information with us, said “Well, those couple of weeks were probably the safest rides you’ve ever taken.”

“What do you mean?” inquired Allie.

“This car is bulletproof. It’s armored,” Tom said, happy to know something we didn’t. “That’s why it’s so quiet inside. Well, that and the fact it’s also BMW’s top car, of course.”

“I guess I’m not that surprised to hear it,” I said, thinking about the Lascaux family’s tendency towards privacy.

“What do you mean?” Courtney demanded from the front seat.

“Well, It’s just that Emmy’s family seems pretty concerned with security and privacy. I mean, I guess all rich people are to one degree or another, but I get the feeling that the Lascauxs are more security conscious than most.”

Turning to the blond, dark-suited driver, I asked “Edouard, you’re Mrs. Lascaux’s bodyguard, aren’t you? I mean, you aren’t just a driver, right?”

Looking at me in the mirror, Edouard replied “Yes, Miss Farmer, you are correct. I am the family’s head of security also. I would not say that it is correct to imagine that the Lascaux are paranoid, but they are careful.”

I have to say, that pretty much shut us all up. I mean, what can you say to something like that? A guy tells you that he is not just a bodyguard, but ‘head of security’ and then goes on to say that having a mini secret service isn’t being too cautious? I wasn’t sure how to take that, and judging by the silence, neither were the others.

I’d forgotten that I was the only one of us that had been to the Lascaux house before, so although the wall and the gate, the orchards and the house were all old hat for me, for the others it was impressive.

“Holy crap!” squeaked Courtney when the house came into view. “That’s like something from the movies!”

“Wow…” was the only thing Allie could say.

Emmy walked out to greet us as we pulled into the area by the garages. Piling out of the sedan, Tom blurted out “Jeeze, Emmy. This place is amazing! Can we maybe get a tour?” Allie gave him a shove for his boldness, but I knew she wanted to see around the house just as much as he did. Courtney was acting a bit more blasé, but I could tell she was every bit as interested.

“O.K., but first let us take these things to the pool house,” Emmy said, taking Allie’s duffel bag. Edouard took my backpack and Courtney’s beach bag and we walked around the right side of the house on a flagstone walkway through the lush foliage. I’d never been to the pool house, but I’d seen it from Emmy’s balcony patio so I knew it was a bit lower than the main house and maybe a couple of hundred feet away. The walkway gradually curved to the left, the plants thick enough that for a bit you couldn’t see either the main house, the garages, or the pool house. All you could see was just a stone pathway through the bougainvillea and olive trees. It was very beautiful, and with the warm sun filtering down, very pleasant.

The pool patio area was just as magnificent. The pool house itself was a big, open room with rustic beams holding up a wood ceiling, with a kitchen and bar area at the back. On two sides wood-framed sliding glass doors could be pushed all the way back into the walls, making it a big open-air living room. The furniture was all overstuffed pillows on wicker.

“Look at that TV!” exclaimed Tom. “I didn’t know they even made flat-screens that big! It’s huge!”

Emmy, amused at Tom’s reaction, told him “Yes, it is a big television, but the one in the theater is even larger.”

Goggle-eyed at the thought of a home theater with a screen nearly big enough for a multiplex, Tom just shut up.

“Here, let us put all your things in the salon,” Emmy suggested, going through a door next to the giant TV that Tom admired so much.

We followed her into a cozy little living room, with a couple of comfortable chairs, a sofa, a coffee table, and along the back wall a bookcase full of books and curios.

“Just put your things here. There are changing rooms and showers through there,” Emmy said, pointing to a door to the right.

“Now you want the tour of Chez Lascaux, no? I will show you around.”

Emmy towed our little group along, and although I’d seen it all before I have to admit that Emmy’s house still did impress me. My favorite part of the house, though, was still Emmy’s big balcony veranda. With the couch and comfy chairs, it was furnished better than my living room. On a hot day like that Saturday, a warm breeze flowed through the shady space carrying the smells of the orchards and the chaparral in the air. The views out over the back side of the house and property and the hills to the west were stunning, too. It was a magical spot, as far as I was concerned. I could just curl up in one of those cozy chairs with a good book and I’d be in heaven.

Tom, predictably, liked the theater best. Emmy had been right- his socks were knocked off by the enormous flat screen TV. The idea that here was a room bigger than the living room in his and Allie’s house devoted just to watching movies was almost too much for him to bear.

“This house was originally built almost seventy years ago by a very wealthy movie producer who wanted his own retreat from Hollywood,” Emmy explained. “It may seem bizarre, but we have never watched any films down here yet. We have lived in this house for three months, and as far as I know this TV has never been turned on.”

That was just too much for Tom. “Well, then you don’t even know if it works? We’ve got to try it, just to be sure.” The concern in his voice was comic.

Emmy found the big touchscreen remote and turned the giant TV on. Scrolling quickly through the menu, she selected that movie with Bruce Willis about an asteroid about to hit the earth, then skipped to about halfway when things start exploding. She unmuted the sound and the darkened room was filled with an earth-shaking rumble from the speakers hidden throughout the space. I mean, my teeth started to vibrate and buzz with the intensity of the sound.

Emmy put it back on mute, and said “It seems to work.” Just like that, as if it was no big thing at all.

Tom, though, was ecstatic. “Oh. My. God.” he said, with a reverential look on his face. “Emmy, please please please- you need to have a movie night. You must have a movie night party. Please!” With that he fell to his knees, pawing at the hem of Emmy’s sun dress in a ridiculously exaggerated begging posture.

She just laughed, and agreed that she would set up a movie night at some point. Tom continued his fawning, saying “Thank you thank you thank you” over and over until Allie gave him a shove and told him to shut up.

“You’re such a nerd,” she said to Tom. “How we ever came from the same womb is beyond me.”

While the two twins got into a play shoving match, Courtney asked Emmy if the sound wasn’t too loud.

“No, the room is soundproofed. Even turned up all the way you cannot hear it anywhere else in the house,” Emmy explained. “This house was built during the threat of Japanese invasion and the theater was intended to also double as the bomb shelter. The walls are very thick and solid,” she finished.

“This is too effing cool,” said Tom. “I want a house just like this when I get to be a brazillionaire.”

The tour finished, we went back down to the pool house to start setting up but Marie-Anne was there just finishing up the job. She had laid out trays of snacks, including bowls of tortilla chips and some very good salsa that she had evidently made herself, which was a bit surprising given that she had only been in Southern California for three months.

Tom and I set up the Ping-Pong table out on the grass while Allie and Courtney rearranged the outdoor furniture so half of it would be out in the sunlight. Most of the patio had a high sailcloth sunshade over it, allowing plenty of light and air but no direct sunlight. Another of the precautions against sunburn for Emmy, I realized. The pale golden color of the canvas made for a nice warm light on the sandstone patio surrounding the tiled pool. Reminded of the warm outdoor coziness of Emmy’s balcony, I thought that really, this is living. How nice would it be to live in a home like this, in this kind of luxury? I’d hate to ever leave.

While we were setting up outside, Emmy was in the pool house (kind of a silly description for a place nicer than most people’s homes) playing with the touchscreen remote. She turned the TV to a channel that seemed to show nothing but video clips of surfers, snorkelers, people waterskiing and so on. Sort of a non-stop ocean sports thing. Then Emmy turned on the stereo, and music came from all around the whole pool area. Hidden speakers started playing Jimmy Buffet’s “Cheeseburger in Paradise,” followed by some surf guitar tune I didn’t recognize. I guess she found the musical equivalent to the ocean videos on the TV, I thought.

About that time the first couple of arrivals showed up- Jordan and Andy from the football team, and right behind them were Stephanie and Mindy.

Andy spotted me and came over to say hello. “Hey, Leah. How you doing?”

“I’m good,” I replied.

“Yes, you are indeed,” he said, with a wink. When that got a chuckle from me, he went on. “Great job against Edison last night. You guys are really rockin’ this year. Do you think you’ll make it to State?”

“No, I doubt it. We’ll have to go through Kearny and Torrey Pines to win Regional, and they’re both playing really well. If we do beat them, then we probably go against Temecula and those girls are destroying everybody this year. Quarter Finals are probably as high as we’ll go.”

“Well, you keep kicking ass and you’ll get noticed. If you get selected to play at All-State it’s almost guaranteed you’ll get scouted.”

“Thanks. Speaking of scouts, I’ve heard you’ve been talking to some. Have you made up your mind yet?”

“No, it’s too early still. Have to wait until the end of the season,” he replied. “Hey, when you said that Emmy’s place was big, I had no idea,” Andy said, changing the subject. “This place is freakin’ huge! And who has a gate with a guardhouse for their driveway? I mean, seriously!”

“Yeah, it’s big all right. Before coming over here for the first time I had no idea there were any houses like this around here. Wait ‘til you see the inside.”

“Do you think I could get a tour?” he asked, looking hopeful.

“I’m pretty sure that you could get Emmy to show you around, if you ask her nicely. I kinda think she’s into you,” I told him.

“Really? You think so?” He looked so much like a puppy dog who’s being offered a bone that I just had to laugh.

“Cool your jets, cowboy,” I said, mixing imagery. “Don’t get too excited just yet. I just said ‘I kinda think she’s into you’,” emphasizing the ‘kinda’ to make my point. “She hasn’t said anything to me one way or another.”

“Well, still…” Andy said, looking thoughtful. “She did dance with me at Stephen’s party…”

By this point enough people had shown up that it was starting to look like a real party. Andy looked around and saw that a few were already in the pool, so he kicked off his shoes, pulled off his t-shirt and ran out the door, circled the patio, and leapt into the pool to try to splash some of the others standing around.

I wandered over to where the Ping-Pong table had been set up to watch Mindy and Emmy play. To my untrained eye it seemed as if Emmy was intentionally flubbing shots to keep the game even, and Mindy noticed it after a while, too.

“Hey! You’re cheating!” she yelled, in mock indignation when Emmy let an easy ball sail past her.

“Cheating? No, not cheating,” Emmy said, as she nailed a shot on the exact far corner of the table with so much spin the ball rocketed off in the opposite direction from Mindy.

“O.K., O.K., I give in. I liked it better when you were cheating! Start cheating again- maybe that way I can win!” Mindy said, as another impossible shot sailed well beyond her reach. “Leah, do you wanna play next?” she asked.

“Not a chance. I’m no good at Ping-Pong, and it looks as if Emmy is a killer,” I replied, before heading off to find Courtney. Courtney was in the pool house talking to Jordan and Brent. I noticed Brent had brought his guitar and amp- no surprise there. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen him without his guitar, either in school or just out and about in town.

“Hey,” I said, as I snagged one of the drinks Marie-Anne had laid out on the counter.

“Hey, Leah. This is an amazing place Emmy’s got, isn’t it?” asked Jordan.

“Yeah,” chimed in Brent. “This is like major rock star quality!” Trust him to always bring the conversation back to the rock stardom he believed was just around the corner. Heck. Maybe he’s right. He is an amazing guitarist, and his band does play paid gigs, even though they’re all still in high school.

“Hey, Brent. You going to play later?” I asked, more to make conversation than real curiosity.

“Yeah. Emmy and I are gonna jam. She says she’s got a sweet Gibson Firebird. I can’t wait to see it!” Brent explained. Well, at least it was an explanation as far as he was concerned. I had the vague idea that he was talking about guitars, so I just nodded my head in agreement.

From behind me Emmy’s voice made me jump out of my skin. “You will like it, Brent. It is a classic. A 1965 in blue. It is very beautiful, and it sounds even better than it looks.”

“Jeeze, Emmy!” I complained. “You scared the crap outta me!”

“I am sorry. I did not mean to startle you,” she apologized, giving me a quick hug. “I am going to swim. Will you join us in the pool?”

“Yeah, sure. I just need to put my swimsuit on.” Following Emmy into the little sitting room, I asked “How long can you stay in the sun? I mean, I know you sunburn easily, right?”

“Not for very long. I put on some very strong sun block, but even with that I can only be in the direct sunlight for half an hour at the most. Did you see the shade covers half of the pool? I will try to stay under that as much as possible.” With that, she pulled off her little sun dress. Even though I knew her bikini was very close to the color of her skin, I still thought at first that she wasn’t wearing anything at all. Seeing the look on my face, Emmy laughed her sparkling little laugh.

Embarrassed, I went into the changing room to put my bikini on. When I emerged, Emmy was waiting for me. She looked me up and down, and gave an approving smile. “Yes, it does look very good on you. You look like a ray of sunshine.”

“Thanks,” I said. “And you look totally naked. The boys are going to love that!” Again, she laughed.

“That is what I hope.” As she led me back out into the main area of the pool room, I realized that there was a lot less of her bikini than I had remembered. The bottom was a thong, and looking at the way her virtually bare rock-hard little bubble butt swayed as she walked I thought that the boys would not be able to keep their eyes off her. Well, that’s what she wanted, right? As Courtney had pointed out, Emmy did like to be the center of attention.

And that’s exactly what she was when she walked out into the patio. Everyone did a double take, at first thinking that she was in fact naked. Courtney and Allie started laughing, knowing exactly why everybody was gaping like a pack of idiots.

Tom was the first one to speak. “Um, Emmy- that’s quite a swimsuit you have there. Or maybe I should say ‘almost don’t have at all’.”

Everybody was recovering from the surprise, and lots of nervous laughter followed the shock. Most of the boys (and plenty of the girls, too) were still staring at Emmy as she walked over to where Mindy was talking to Jordan.

I went over to talk to Allie and Courtney. “Are you guys going to swim?” I asked.

“Yeah- it’s getting hot,” Courtney said, peeling off her T-shirt and shorts. “How about you, Allie?”

“No, not yet. I’m fine here,” Allie replied, taking a drink of her iced tea and leaning back in her lounge chair. “Ahhh,” she said with a contented smile. “I could get used to this.”

Emmy was splashing around in the pool, riding on Andy’s shoulders. He was such a big guy and she was so slender that she hardly seemed to weigh him down at all. Judging by the look on his face, he was loving every minute of it. A few others were in the pool, too, so I jumped in. I expected it to be cold, but it was actually surprisingly warm. Emmy had mentioned that her mom likes the pool warm, but I didn’t expect bath-like temperatures.

After a while, when Marie-Anne told Emmy that lunch was ready, Emmy announced that it was time to eat. Andy carried her on his shoulders as he climbed out of the pool and into the pool house. When they got to the table, he reached up and put his hands on her waist and lifted her up, then set her down gently on the floor.

“Thank you, kind sir,” she said, giving him a little curtsey while holding her imaginary skirt. I don’t think I’d ever actually seen anybody curtsey in real life before. She held out her hand, and he took it and led her to her seat, pulling it out for her, then scooting her chair in for her.

Yeah, he’s head over heels for her, I thought. They make an odd, if cute, couple. He was at least eight inches taller and probably weighed more than twice what she did. He was tanned, with light brown hair, but she was as black as midnight with hair as white as snow. Bizarre, really, but there it was.

Marie-Anne and Rosa had made up a lunch of roasted chicken and vegetables, with a wonderful fruit tart for dessert. How Emmy and her mother stayed so slender with all this incredible food was a mystery to me, and evidently to Courtney, too.

“This is an amazing lunch, Leah. That’s the family cook, right? The one you told me about?” she asked. When I nodded yes (my mouth was too full to talk) she continued. “Can you imagine what it must be like to have a cook like this fix dinner every night? I’d be as big as a house!”

Allie and her brother Tom both nodded their agreement. Looking around, I saw that most of the others were enjoying just about as much as we were. Interestingly, I saw that Mindy Stock wasn’t having chicken. She had what looked like a small soufflé instead. She saw me looking, and explained “I’m a vegetarian. Marie-Anne remembered, and made this specially for me.”

After lunch, Emmy announced “I need a strong, beautiful boy to come up to my room with me.” After the chuckles died down, Emmy took an exaggeratedly thoughtful pose, hand on chin. “No, I need two strong, beautiful boys.” Then, after a pause, “my guitar equipment is very heavy,” she explained, and everybody laughed.

“You,” she said, pointing at Andy, “And you,” indicating Jordan. Jordan stood, and gave the rest of us a big wink, causing more laughter. Emmy led the two away, swaying her hips as she walked. She hadn’t put her sundress back on, so the view the two had of her butt in that little thong left little to the imagination.

As soon as the three were gone, a lot of chatter broke out. Mostly it was amazement at the house and gardens, and a little bit about Emmy herself. From the table next to us I could hear the two cheerleaders, Mindy and Stephanie, talking about Emmy.

“You’ve been here before, right?” asked Stephanie.

“Yeah, a few times,” admitted Mindy.

“So you’ve met her parents?”

“No, I’ve never seen ‘em. They don’t seem to be around much,” Mindy replied.

Maybe fifteen minutes later Emmy returned, carrying her guitar case and her music laptop. Jordan had a box with cables and some other stuff, while Andy carried the big amp I’d seen in Emmy’s room. Emmy directed the two guys to put the stuff down by the fireplace in the pool house, while Brent hustled over to check out the equipment. The rest of us watched and chatted while Emmy and Brent hooked cables, wires, and some other things together. When Emmy opened her big rectangular guitar case and pulled out the blue guitar I’d seen in her room, Brent couldn’t wait to get his hands on it. It was obviously a very big deal to him, but none of the rest of us had any clue why he was so blown away, handling the guitar as if it were made of gold.

Finally Emmy had it all hooked up to her satisfaction, so Brent handed her back the guitar and she plugged it in. The laptop was open on top of the amp, and she pressed a few keys. Turning back to the amp, she adjusted a few knobs, then strummed a chord. It made a fat chainsaw-like sound, and Emmy adjusted the settings a bit more, then strummed again. Satisfied, she hit a power chord and held it, the sustain (I think it’s called) keeping the note going for a while. This whole time Emmy was facing away from us, and I couldn’t help staring at her bare butt in that thong. Glancing around, I saw that was pretty universal. Always the attention seeker, Emmy must have known that her perky little ass was holding everyone’s gaze.

Finally Emmy turned to face us, ripping into a melody that seemed familiar, but at first I didn’t recognize it. The guitar was distorted (I hope I’m using all the terms correctly) but still pretty clear, in a way. When the rhythm of the melody changed into a kind of gallop, Emmy said to Brent “Come on, Brent. Sing it for us!”

To my surprise, he did start singing. That’s when it hit me. Emmy was playing Ozzy Osbourne’s Crazy Train precisely because Brent was wearing an old Ozzy T shirt. Emmy wasn’t just playing it, though- she was knocking it out of the park. It was incredible. When she got to the solo, her long, delicate fingers flew across the frets almost too fast to see. After a while, Brent stopped singing, and just watched Emmy play. When she noticed he’d quit, Emmy took up the singing, polishing the song off. None of us watching could do any more than stare in wonder and amazement.

When Emmy finished, she smiled broadly at us, and Brent especially. “Would you play us a song, Brent?”

“I’m not sure I can follow that up,” he admitted, but took the guitar from her anyhow. He twiddled the knobs on the amp and on the guitar, and when he’d gotten the sound the way he wanted he played a slow, soulful version of Little Wing.

I’d heard Brent play Hendrix before so I wasn’t too blown away, but Emmy was enthralled. When the last notes faded away Emmy clapped her hands and said “That was amazing! Please, play another!”

A few of the rest of us wandered off, either to swim or lay in the hot November sun (it’s funny to say it that way, isn’t it?) while Emmy and Brent continued to play.

Sitting out in one of the lounge chairs, listening to the guitar with one ear and the chatter with the other, I heard Courtney ask Allie “Is it O.K. to officially hate Emmy now? I mean, seriously. She’s rich, smart and talented. It just isn’t fair.”

Allie laughed, and agreed that it didn’t seem fair at all. Actually, this seemed to be a popular opinion. Everybody seemed to think that Emmy really did have it all. I found this hard to reconcile with the memory of the insecure girl that had been crying on my shoulder about never having had a boyfriend just a few days before. Here she was queen in her castle and secure in her domain, but really she was just the same inside as the rest of us.

After a bit she wandered out to the patio, leaving Brent still playing his guitar.

“Leah, are you enjoying yourself?” she asked, sitting on the edge of my lounge chair.

“Yeah, thanks. This is fantastic, Emmy. You know, you hadn’t shown me the pool before. I really like it- it’s so beautiful,” I said, waving my arm to indicate the pool and its surroundings.

“Yeah,” Allie agreed. “It’s like some kind of amazing resort or something. The pool, the gardens… It’s all so amazing. Emmy, you have some kind of house, all right.” With that, she went back to sipping her tropical looking drink.

“Hey, where did you get that?” I asked Allie. “That looks good.”

“It is. They’re in there,” she said, pointing to the pool house. “Marie-Anne, that’s her name, right? She’s making them. Just go get one.”

“I will get one for you,” Emmy volunteered, standing up. “Would you like one, too, Courtney?”

“Sure. Great, thanks,” Courtney answered.

After Emmy returned with our fruit drinks, she left to go talk to Mindy and Stephanie. I watched her stroll away, wishing I could make my hips sway like that when I walked. Actually, I was wishing I had her muscular little butt, too, and tiny waist.

Allie must have seen me watching, because she commented “God, I wish I had a figure like that.”

“She has a figure like that because she spends hours every day working out,” Courtney observed. “She told me that she has dance practice two or three hours every night, and has since she was a baby. There’s no way I could have that kind of dedication.”

“Well, I don’t think it’s really by her own choice much,” I said. “I think it’s something her parents have signed her up for whether she likes it or not.”

“What do you mean?” asked Allie.

“Well, she has dance and music practice every night, and has since she was a baby, just like Courtney said. When she was tiny, she had no say in it, did she? She had to go along with whatever her parents wanted. And now, she does it because that’s what she does. What she’s always done. She doesn’t know any different.”

“That’s… That’s kinda horrible, when you put it like that,” Allie said, appalled.

“I’m not so sure it is,” I replied. “I mean, look. She can dance and play the guitar better than anybody I’ve ever seen, right? And look at the way she’s built. Like Courtney said, she’s as hard as rock. Those are the plus sides. On the minus side, she has no time for things like T.V., so she has no idea who the Simpsons are or who won American Idol last season. I’m not so sure those are really minuses, after all.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Allie agreed, but without much conviction.

“Besides,” Courtney said. “You’ve seen what she eats.”

“What she doesn’t eat, you mean,” agreed Allie. “There is no way I could get by on so little food. I’d starve to death.”

I nodded, thinking the same thing.

By this time, Emmy had jumped back in the pool with the two cheerleaders, and the three were splashing each other like mad. This was all it took for a bunch of the boys to jump in and start splashing, too. While I was debating with myself what to do, Brent came running out of the pool house and did a cannonball right in the middle of everybody. That was it- clearly it was time to be a kid again. I hadn’t cannonballed into a pool since I was ten, but if Brent could do it, so could I. I yelled for Allie and Courtney to get in the pool, then ran and leapt.

I’m not sure how much of a splash I made, but it was satisfying anyway. Allie and Courtney did both get in the pool, but they walked down the stairs in a much more dignified fashion than the route I had taken. They did join in the giant splash battle, though.

After a bit the battle ran out of steam, so Allie, Courtney and I retreated to the spa. Soon everybody else joined us, making it quite crowded. We were all packed in tightly- so much so that Emmy wound up sitting on my lap- much to Andy’s dismay. I could tell he’d rather have had Emmy on his lap, and truth is I would rather that have been the case, too. Her butt felt bony on my legs.

“What are we going to do later?” asked Sara, who was predictably sitting on Stephen’s lap. His hands were below the waterline so I couldn’t see them but I had a pretty good idea where they were, judging by his satisfied smile.

“I have no plans,” Emmy replied. “What should we do?”

Stephanie chimed in “How about we kick the boys out and have a girls-only party?”

“That sounds like a good idea,” agreed Emmy.

“Hey, that’s not fair!” protested Jordan. “What would you guys do that we couldn’t be here for, anyway?”

Courtney replied “Oh, you know. Typical girly stuff like painting each other’s toenails, watching romantic comedies on the big screen, oral sex… You know. The usual.”

“Hey, now that’s totally unfair!” Jordan yelled out again. “I like romantic comedies! I want my toenails painted!” Which brought howls of laughter. “Oh, and I guess the oral sex thing would be O.K., too,” he added.

“I’m down with the oral sex, too,” agreed Andy, and the rest of the boys, looking around, all nodded their heads in agreement.

“That is fine,” Emmy announced, standing up. “You boys can have all the oral sex you want. However, this will be a girls only party, so you boys will have to go have your oral sex somewhere else.” This brought laughter from the girls this time.

“I see how you are,” said Jordan, in a mock indignant tone. “Well, we’ll just go then. We’ll have the last laugh, you’ll see. We’ll have epic oral sex without you. Who needs girls, anyway?”

“Me first!” shouted Martin Lopez, raising his hand.

“Then me!” Tom yelled. The rest of the boys all started shouting about who would be next, then Blake stood up and started to pull down his shorts.

“Why wait?” he yelled.

Courtney, who was sitting next to him, grabbed the waistband of his shorts and pulled them back up.

“Jeeze, Blake! Be careful with that thing! You could put an eye out!” she shouted.

By this point it was chaos. The boys were all pushing and shoving each other and laughing like idiots, the girls were escaping to the pool (and also laughing), and the noise level was off the charts. Blake had picked Courtney up and was carrying her over his shoulder while she squirmed in a half-hearted struggle. He leapt into the pool and the two of them made a heck of a splash. This seemed to set off some kind of caveman frenzy among a bunch of the boys, because they grabbed up some of the girls and carried them around, racing around the pool.

Grateful that I was too big to be easy to carry, I watched with amusement as an impromptu foot race of football players carrying cheerleaders developed. I would have normally bet on Blake Moore, (After all, he was the running back) but he’d grabbed Mindy and she was a bit more of a load than Andy’s passenger, Emmy. The girls were squealing and laughing, the boys were hooting with laughter, and the rest of us were cheering them on.

Good thing the pool patio was kinda rough flagstones and not slippery concrete, I thought. Allie and Tom swam over to where I was, and they started critiquing technique.

“Emmy’s the lightest, and Andy’s huge, so he has the advantage,” Tom commented.

“Yeah, but Jordan’s got Stephanie, and she’s not very big, either,” Countered Allie. “And he’s a lot faster.”

By this point the boys were slowing down, and without a definitive winner they all climbed back into the spa with their victims. Well, I used the word victims, but none of the four girls looked as if they had objected to the proceedings at all. In fact, they looked as if it had been a blast.

“O.K., I’m beat,” said Andy to Emmy. “Now it’s your turn.”

She made a big show of trying to lift him over her shoulder before giving up. “Oh, but come on,” he pouted teasingly. “I carried you. It’s the least you could do.” Emmy’s musical laugh as she sat down on his lap made his face light up.

He is so into her, I thought. She seems to like him, too. They make a good couple.

About that time, Marie-Anne announced in her thick French accent that there was ice cream in the pool house, so we all got up and headed in. Marie-Anne and Rosa had a bunch of bowls set out, each with a slice of melon and some pale red sherbet.

“Marie-Anne and Rosa made this ice cream this morning,” explained Emmy. “It is one of my favorites.”

The ice cream was an unusual, a slightly sweet but tart berry flavor. “It’s really good,” exclaimed Stephanie, who’d finished her bowl already. “Is it pomegranate?”

“Yes, it is pomegranate and cranberry,” answered Marie-Anne. “Would you like some more?”

Sitting there, in that big, open pool house, eating handmade ice cream in the warm afternoon… it felt like heaven. This was how life is supposed to be lived, I thought. Looking around, it seemed that plenty of the others felt the same way. It was so nice just to feel the warm Santa Ana breeze scented by the chaparral, lounging in a comfy chair in that big, open pool house, listening to the others chattering about nothing important.

Looking around for Emmy, I didn’t see her anywhere. She wasn’t in the pool house with the rest of us, enjoying ice cream. “Have you seen Emmy?” I asked Stephanie, who was sitting closest to me.

Mindy, on the other side of Stephanie, answered. “I think she went in there,” pointing at the door to the salon.

Curious, I went to check. Andy had heard the exchange and seemed concerned too, so he followed me into the adjoining room. All the lights were off in the small living room area and the curtains were pulled closed, making it dim but not completely dark. I saw Emmy’s dark shape curled up in a fetal position on the couch, her face buried under a pillow.

Hurrying over to her, I knelt down next to the couch and asked “Is everything all right? Are you O.K.?” I guess it was stupid to ask, because it was obvious the answer was going to be no, but there it was.

Andy sat down on the couch, kinda in the middle. He’d lifted up Emmy’s ankles and slid under them, then put her legs on his lap. He was stroking her calves, a worried look on his face.

Emmy’s muffled voice came from under the pillow. “I am sorry. I was in the sun too long and now I have a terrible headache. I need to rest here for a little bit and then I will be O.K.” Her voice sounded as if she were in real pain.

Putting my hand on her shoulder, I felt how hot her skin was. “Did you get a sunburn? Your skin feels like you’re burning up!”

“Is there anything I can do?” Andy asked Emmy. “Can I get you some ice water or anything?” His concern was obvious in his voice. He’s crazy about her, I realized.

“Thank you, Andy, but what you are doing is very nice. Please don’t stop,” she responded. Andy looked surprised, then realized that Emmy meant his unconscious foot and leg rub he’d been giving her. He gave me a sheepish grin, then got back to work. I think he realized at about that point that as his eyes had gotten adjusted to the dim light his position offered him a fantastic view of Emmy’s butt in that little thong bikini bottom of hers. He glanced at me, realized I’d caught him checking out Emmy’s ass, and had the decency to look embarrassed.

I smirked, making him blush and look away.

“I’ll be right back,” I said, and went back into the pool house’s main room. I asked Marie-Anne for some ice water and a wet cloth, and when I had what I needed I headed back to the salon.

“What’s up?” asked Tom.

“Emmy has a migraine from too much sun, and maybe a sunburn, too” I explained. “She’ll be O.K. in a bit, but right now she just needs to cool off in the dark.”

Back in the darkened salon, I got Emmy to sit up and sip the ice water. I took the cool, damp cloth and gently laid it across her shoulders, which were giving off a surprising amount of heat.

Andy, who now had Emmy’s knees in his lap, kept stroking her skin and murmuring how sorry he was that he didn’t realize she was getting burned.

“Oh, Andy,” she sighed. “It is only my mistake. Do not blame yourself. I was enjoying myself so much I did not realize it was too much.” She leaned forward and gave him a little kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for being so caring. Thank you, too, Leah.”

“Is there anything else I can do?” asked Andy.

“I would be very grateful if you could go to my room and get my very dark glasses, Andy,” she replied. They are in my closet, on top of my dresser.”

“Be right back,” Andy said, and he was gone like a shot.

“He’s crazy about you,” I said.

“I am starting to think you may be right,” Emmy replied with a little smile. “Thank you for this,” she said, touching the damp cloth. “I feel much better.”

“Can I ask you something?” I asked.

“Of course. Anything.”

“Did you really want those glasses?” I probed.

“Am I that transparent to you?” she laughed. “Yes, they will help my headache. But also, and I think you guessed this, Andy needed to feel helpful, so I gave him something to do.”

I rolled my eyes in mock astonishment. “You are so devious some times!”

Emmy laughed again, that clear, musical laugh of hers. Hearing it, I knew she was going to be O.K.

“I’m going back to finish my ice cream. I’ll see you out there?”

“Yes, when Andy comes back with the glasses,” Emmy replied, standing up.

“Cool.”

Back out in the main room, I said “She’ll be out in a minute,” to nobody in particular but everybody in general, then sat down to finish my ice cream, which had turned to mush.

Andy came dashing back with the sunglasses and a moment later Emmy came back to join the party.

When she’d said ‘dark glasses’ I didn’t really have any idea what she’d meant. These things were like the glasses that mountain climbers wear- you know, the ones that are as dark as welding goggles, with the little pieces of leather to block out any light from the sides? They looked kind of steampunk on Emmy. Silly, but a bit cool, too.

When she came out to where the rest of us were, Emmy apologized for abandoning everybody, and explained that she’d just gotten too much sun and had to stay in the shade for the rest of the day.

She asked if it would be O.K. if we moved the party indoors, and everybody agreed. Emmy made no move to put any additional clothes on, so I guess none of the rest of us did, either. We all followed Emmy into the main house and downstairs to the bar/game room. After the heat of the Santa Ana and its ninety-five degree breeze, the cool basement felt chilly at first, but pleasant at the same time.

A couple of minutes after we arrived, the same servant who had poured the wine at dinner a few weeks back slid behind the bar. I wasn’t sure if he was there to make drinks or prevent all of us from making our own, but soon he was busy pouring sodas and making alcohol-free mixers for people.

A boys vs. girls game of pool broke out, thankfully without my involvement. Martin and Tom settled down on an overstuffed leather couch to watch a college basketball game, Jane Charter and Jenny Dixon were trying to play darts, and Courtney, Allie and I sat at one of the tall tables and chatted.

“I still can’t believe this house,” Allie said. “I didn’t think places like this existed around here. I mean, really? Fallbrook?”

“It’s been here for a while, too,” replied Courtney. “You’d think something like this that had been here for seventy years would be common knowledge.”

“Emmy told me that the previous owners had all been very reclusive, and mainly had L.A. dealings, so didn’t interact with the people in town much,” I explained.

“Yeah, but still,” Courtney objected, watching Blake and Jordan high five each other by the pool table. “Think of all the people that work here. How could a place like this remain a secret?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure it was ever actually a secret, per se,” I replied. “I think that maybe it just wasn’t common knowledge, and the owners never did anything to bring attention of any kind.”

“Yeah, I guess,” conceded Courtney. “Hey,” she said in a low voice. “Check out Blake.”

We looked over to see him lining up a shot, his mocha face a picture of concentration, tongue poking out of one corner of his mouth. Just as he shot, Courtney called out his name, making him hit the cue ball off-center and completely missing the intended target.

“What?” he demanded, an angry look on his face.

Giggling a bit, Courtney said “I just wanted to say that you had a nice butt. Those shorts look good on you.”

“Oh, yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah!” Courtney replied.

“Well, O.K. then!” He said, turning and pulling his board shorts down to moon us, his cheeks on full display.

Allie looked stricken and I’m sure I blushed, but Courtney let out a whistle and a catcall. “Ooh, baby!”

Everybody in the place was laughing by this point except Allie, who was still getting over the shock of seeing Blake’s muscular brown butt.

Blake waved his arms to indicate everybody should be quiet, then said “Fair’s fair. Now it’s your turn.” Which met approval from all the guys, at least.

“So, that’s how it is, huh?” Courtney asked, getting off the barstool. She turned her back to Blake and the rest of the pool table group, then began swaying her hips in a sexy dance. Looking back over her shoulder at Blake and the boys, she hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her cherry-print bikini bottom, and slowly started to pull it down. The boys were all whistling and hooting as Courtney, still swaying her hips, slid the top of the swimsuit down an inch, two inches, then pulled it back up and said “Sorry, boys. That’s all you get.”

“Aw, man!” That was evil!” yelled Jordan. Mindy and Stephanie were laughing so hard I thought they were going to wet themselves.

When Courtney sat back down, Allie said “I can’t believe you just did that!” She was blushing enough for the both of them.

“What?” asked Courtney, all wide-eyed innocence.

“I could never do something like that,” Allie replied.

“Never tease boys? Is that what you mean?” asked Courtney. “You need to give it a try sometime, Allie. It’ll do you good.”

The football players all crowded onto the couch with Tom and Martin, leaving the victorious cheerleaders to play the next round of pool against Sara, Stephen and Brent.

I realized that Emmy hadn’t really said a word since we’d been down there. I asked her if she was doing all right, and she said she was fine, but I wasn’t convinced.

“Em,” I said. “Nobody would blame you if you had to lie down for a bit. If your head still hurts, you should take a break.”

She shrugged, saying “I do not wish to abandon the party. I will feel better soon, as dark as it is down here.”

“Well, O.K. But seriously, if you feel crummy…”

“Thank you for your concern, Leah,” Emmy said, giving me a smile, but I could tell she still wasn’t feeling one hundred per cent.

The undefeated cheerleaders, remaining at the pool table, challenged Allie, Courtney and me to a game but Courtney and Allie didn’t rise to the occasion so it just turned into me against Stephanie. I’ll be the first to admit I’m no good at all at pool and Stephanie had just beaten two sets of challengers, so I knew I was going to go down in flames. Stephanie went really easy on me though and even let me redo a couple of completely missed shots. In fact, by halfway through the game she was even showing me which shots to take and where to hit the cue ball.

I felt a little awkward when Stephanie wrapped her arms around me to show me how to hold the cue to put ‘english’ on the ball. I’m not sure it would have bothered me so much, but we were both still wearing nothing but our bikinis and there was a lot of skin contact. It didn’t seem to bother Stephanie any, but I wasn’t used to having my personal space crowded like that.

The boys left at around six in the afternoon, Sara leaving with Stephen (to nobody’s surprise). The rest of us girls stayed for the girls-only party that Stephanie had suggested, which turned out to be better than I’d expected. We went up to Emmy’s room, put on some music and danced. Well, some of us danced. Allie couldn’t be talked into it, no matter how hard the rest of us tried.

It was nice to actually get to know Mindy and Stephanie, and to spend time with some of my V Ball teammates off the court. Because the night air was still really hot nobody made a move to change out of their swim suits. It should have felt awkward hanging out with a bunch of girls in bikinis, goofing around and drinking the champagne Emmy had sent up along with the chocolate truffles, but it wasn’t uncomfortable at all. Somehow everybody being practically naked made it seem more real, as if we could be, I don’t know, more natural than usual, or something like that. I guess it was the whole ‘breaking down barriers’ thing, but just spending time like that made me feel closer to all of them.

Riding home in the big BMW later that evening Allie admitted that she had great time. “Honestly, I had no idea what to expect, but that was a lot of fun. We need to get Emmy to have parties more often.”

“Yeah, no lie,” Courtney agreed. “Her place is incredible.”