CHAPTER 23
Have you ever heard that song “Under the Boardwalk,” by the Drifters?
The lyrics paint a pretty picture:
(Under the boardwalk) people walking above
(Under the boardwalk) we’ll be falling in love
Trust me, the real deal is nowhere near as romantic. There’s a lot of gross stuff down there. We’re talking slimy seaweed, grungy rodent poop, and rusty soda cans—not to mention discarded slices of pizza. From last year.
Streaks of moonlight are filtering through the boards. I can see that Sophia is with a boy. A boy I don’t recognize. For sure it isn’t Mike Guadagno, this prepster Sophia and Hannah both had a mega crush on last fall. Sophia has already fallen “madly, deeply” in love with six other boys since then. Meanwhile, Hannah is still using her employee discount to buy boxes of peanut butter fudge for Mike G.
The guy Sophia’s flirting with tonight is tall and lanky with a thick head of wavy hair. He kind of reminds me of John Stamos, the handsome hunk who plays Jesse Katsopolis on the TV show Full House. He’s wearing black jeans and a black T-shirt that match his awesome black hair.
The guy might be a tourist. Someone visiting Seaside Heights for a week or two with his family. Or he could just be a local I haven’t met yet. Sophia and the boy aren’t kissing or anything yucky like that, otherwise Sandfleas and I would both be tossing up our cookies (or dog biscuits). The guy’s just looking totally chill, leaning up against a pole with his hair perfectly framing his face. Sophia, on the other hand, is giggling and working the toe of her tennis shoe into the sand.
“So you’ll be here all summer?” she asks.
“Yeah. I’m hangin’ at my aunt’s crib. She’s wicked dank.”
“Huh?”
“Means she’s awesome.”
“Wow. You really are from Philly. You know all the slang we never hear around here.”
“Yeah,” says the guy. “I’m looking forward to learning more about Seaside Heights.” He takes a step toward Sophia. “Seeing all the beautiful sights… including you.”
Urp. Barf alert.
Sandfleas grumbles out a low, throaty growl.
It inspires me.
I howl. The same werewolf-under-a-full-moon howl I did at the top of the Ferris wheel, only this howl echoes a lot more, bouncing around underneath the boardwalk. It’s like I’m yodeling in the Alps, which I think is the number one tourist thing to do in Switzerland.
“AH-WOOOO-OOO-OOO-OOOO-OOO…”
The boy looks over and probably sees a silhouette of a snarling dog and a howling crazy girl with her hands cupped over her mouth.
“Uh, catch you later, Olivia,” the boy says before he takes off running.
“Sophia!” my sister calls after him. “My name is Sophia.”
“My bad,” says the boy, who is already fifty feet away.
Sophia twirls around so she has a better angle to glare at me.
“Sandfleas? Is that you? Jacqueline?!?”
I do a finger-wiggle wave. Sandfleas waggles her tail.
Sophia kicks at the sand. “Schuyler was going to be my one true love.”
For this week, anyway, I think.
“Why do you have to ruin everything for everybody else, Jacky? Why?”
My big sister stomps away, sobbing dramatically.
Yeah. I sometimes have that effect on people. Sometimes, even on myself.