Page 32 of Beaches, Bagels & Babes
The Pier Princess faced her friend defiantly. Stone-like, she said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The pair had a staredown while Daisy was held hostage at the register. Not that she wanted to look away. The excuse to observe her crush this closely whenshewas not being the weird one was a rare opportunity. Even so, she was confused, and then a bit grumpy. Who was this “he” they talked about? Daisy heard that Candace dated some boys from both Wonderwood Public and the prep, but the relationships never seemed to last long. If this newest guy was trying to control what she ate, Candace needed to dump his ass.
Feeling testy the more she thought about this hypothetical boyfriend, Daisy goaded Candace. “C’mon, the carbs aren’t gonna kill you. But I might die of boredom if you take any longer.”
Guilt surged inside Daisy as Candace’s attention flashed to her. Embarrassment, maybe even anger, drew her fair features tight. She snapped, “Fine. Two cinnamon, two asiago, two peanut butter and jelly.” Before Daisy could comment on the amount—not that she ever would—Candace added, “I need to eat before the bonfire tonight.”
“Ah. Okay.”
Daisy retrieved the requested bombs from the freezer and set them to toast.
“Are you going?” Demi asked Daisy, and Candace gave the girl a practically audible side-eye. “It seems like our school and the prep are going all out to promote ‘unity,’ or whatever that means. There’ll be fireworks.”
Daisy grimaced. She was not fond of school events and had been glad to have the excuse of the bagel stand when her teachers tried to encourage her to go.
“Eh, I’m going to have to pass. Gotta work.”
“Really? That sucks.”
Shrugging, Daisy repeated, “No can do. I’m the only one who can provide Wonderwood with its bagel fix.”
“Are you sure? You can’t close for one night?”
It was not Demi, but Candace, and she soundeddisappointed. She looked as if she had not even realized she spoke aloud until everyone’s attention shot to her. Her mouth shut like a steel trap, and she made a show out of grabbing napkins from the dispenser.
While Daisy’s heart beat furiously to the echo of those words, the teens moved on to talking about what they would wear to the bonfire, and whose house they would party at afterwards. Candace joined in the conversation, back to her usual, bubbly self. But, more than once, her regard drifted back to Daisy. When the oven buzzer went off, it made them both jump.
Once Daisy dolled out the group’s order, they began to amble off. Candace, however, lingered. Releasing the lip she chewed on, she suggested, “You should come tonight.”
“Do you want me to?”
For a long beat, the Pier Princess held Daisy in the churning depths of her impossible-to-read gaze. She repeated, “You should come.”
It took Daisy three tries to leave her house before she managed to keep going. Even then, it was only out of sheer stubbornness. She knew her neighbors watched her waffling, and eventually, one of them would come outside and comment on it. They were well-meaning, but nosy. Ever since her parents’ accident, people she hardly knew wanted the details of her personal life when they had been perfectly content to ignore her before.
So, Daisy did her best to keep a strong outward front. She did not want their pity or whatever help they offered to make themselves feel better. Daisy was fine on her own, and she would prove it. She was a normal teenager, going to hang out with other normal teenagers.
Like Candace Perry.
Why did she tell Daisy to come? The idea that Candace thought of her, ever, past their brief interactions, seemed impossible. But maybe, just maybe, she remembered the first time they met. Maybe, some impossible maybe, Daisy was not crazy, and the attraction she felt was mutual. It could not be that.
And yet…
Daisy was glad that she had a somewhat long walk to the beach cove so that she could calm her anxious fretting. Her parents’ bungalow—her bungalow, now—was on the south side of the island with the other blue-collar worker homes, closer to the bay than the boardwalk. It was a walkable distance, but it gave her some time to think. Or, more likely, obsess.
Until the very object of her fretting appeared once again.
Demi, driving her old Jeep Cherokee with its sides open, pulled up alongside Daisy. Her boyfriend, a band kid who also attended Wonderwood Public, was seated in the passenger seat. Candace, of course, was in the back.
“Hey again!” Demi greeted in a chipper tone, “You’re coming to the cove after all! Need a lift?”
Daisy forgot how to speak. She looked from Demi’s expectant gaze to Candace. The other girl did not meet Daisy’s eye. However, as she unbuckled herself and scooted over to make room, it was all the permission Daisy needed. Thanking Demi, she scuttled into the jeep with the grace of a hermit crab.
“All good?” Demi asked.
The seatbelt was like a slippery noodle in Daisy’s shaking grip. A hand, Candace’s hand, helped to steady her. The contact went on long enough that Daisy could marvel over how velvet-smooth the other girl’s skin was. Long enough that it felt intentional, like Candace, too, was conducting her own covert investigation.
Then, she withdrew as if it were nothing.
