MEL COULDN’T BELIEVE SHE’D been so stupid as not to get the boy’s name or give him hers. He didn’t even know where she lived. What if she never saw him again? Immediately, she realized that that was silly because she knew where he lived, and if she didn’t see him in a few days, she could always go to his house.
Then she began to worry. First she worried that the boy, in thinking the morning over, would decide she’d been too pushy—following him down the beach and spying on his house. Then she worried that he’d think she didn’t really like him—after all, she hadn’t told him her name.
Mel spent the afternoon wondering what to do. She barely tasted her lobster and was too preoccupied to talk to her father (or anyone else). After supper that evening, she decided she needed to be alone to think.
“I’m going to the ferry dock,” she announced. She threw on her sneakers and ran down the walk. Then she slap-slapped along through the dusk to the boats. One look up the ferry dock showed her that too many people were already there to allow any privacy. She strolled a bit further to the last dock in the bay and walked all the way out to the end.
There she plopped down, her feet hanging over the side. They didn’t quite reach the water. She leaned back on her hands and gazed across the bay. Very faintly, she could see the mainland along the horizon. The sun, a glowing orange orb, had set several minutes earlier.
Mel kicked her feet back and forth and thought.
She closed her eyes, feeling the damp, salty breeze on her face, and tried to picture the boy—his limpid eyes, his head of curls. After a few moments, she sensed that someone had sat down beside her. Inwardly, she groaned. She had come to the dock to be alone. Who had followed her? Lacey? Dee? Timmy?
Finally she opened her eyes and looked around.
It was the boy!
“Hi!” Mel cried.
“Hello,” said the boy. “I thought it was you. I was taking a walk and I saw you from the Harbor Store.”
“I needed a little peace and quiet.”
“Do you want me to leave?”
“Oh, no!” said Mel quickly. “No, I want you to stay.” Immediately, she wondered whether she was being too forward again. “I mean, if you want to stay.”
“Sure,” the boy replied. “You know, I love the sun, and lying around on the beach, but I think this is my favorite time of day.”
“Mine, too,” said Mel. “Or maybe a little later than this. I kind of like the dark. I used to be afraid of it, but now I like it. Timmy says I’m weird. I like rain, too.”
“You do? So do I! I like sitting by a window with the rain streaming down the panes.”
“When I was little, my mom used to read this poem to me. It’s called ‘Windy Nights,’ but the first four lines are about rain, and I love them.”
“I know what they are,” the boy said. “‘Whenever the moon and stars are set, Whenever the wind is high, All night long in the dark and wet’—”
“‘A man goes riding by,” Mel finished. “Robert Louis Stevenson…‘In the dark and wet,’” she said again. “I love those words. Who used to read to you? Your dad?”
The boy shook his head.
“Oh, your mom, then.”
He shook his head again. “Leila. Leila read to me all the time.”
“Oh.”
Mel and the boy looked out across the bay. On the mainland, lights twinkled here and there, some shining alone, some in friendly clusters.
“So what have you been doing this summer?” Mel asked, remembering that the boy had said he’d been busy before he left for Fire Island.
“Just working.”
Mel nodded. She was incredibly glad that his work was finished.
“You still haven’t told me very much about yourself,” the boy said, changing the subject. “I know about Dee and Timmy and Lacey, but not you.”
Mel gave the boy a wry smile. “The first thing to know about me is that my name is Melanie Braderman. Everyone calls me Mel, though, except the woman who used to baby-sit for me, and she calls me Melly. No one else is allowed to.” Mel paused.
The boy didn’t say anything.
“So is your name a secret or what?” asked Mel. “I mean, do I have to guess it? You’re not Rumpelstiltskin, are you?”
The boy laughed. “My name is Justin.”
“Justin what? Justin Time?”
“Justin Hart.” He was still laughing.
“Well, anyway, Justin Hart, I’m fourteen and I’m going to be a freshman at Bronxville High School this fall. And I’m scared to death.”
“Scared to death? Of what?”
“Upperclassmen.”
“Why?”
“Well, for starters—Freshman Torture Day.”
Justin looked shocked. “What,” he asked, “is Freshman Torture Day?”
“To be honest,” said Mel, “I’m not positive it’s anything. Dee swears up and down that there’s no such thing. I’ve heard so many rumors, though. The kids in seventh and eighth grade are always telling stories about their older brothers and sisters coming home from their first day at BHS with big F’s written on their foreheads in red lipstick, and having to be the seniors’ slaves. Things like that.”
“Well,” said Justin practically, “what happened to Dee on her first day at BHS?”
“Nothing.”
“See?”
“No, it doesn’t prove a thing. Dee is gorgeous. Upper-class boys don’t want to torture her; they want to date her. I, on the other hand, am just the kind of person a sophomore boy would rather haze than kiss.”
“Sweet sixteen and only been hazed?”
Mel giggled. “Always a hazee, never a date.”
They were both laughing.
“I’m an upperclassman, and I wouldn’t want to haze you,” said Justin.
Mel gulped. For some reason, she had assumed that she and Justin were the same age. “How old are you?”
“Oh, old. As old as the hills.”
“No, really.”
“Fifteen,” replied Justin. “I’m going to be a great big menacing sophomore.”
“Where do you go to school?” asked Mel.
“It’s a private school,” Justin said vaguely.
“Really? Is it Ethical Culture? That’s where Lacey goes.”
“No, not Ethical Culture. You probably haven’t heard of it.”
“Probably not,” agreed Mel.
“Listen,” said Justin. “Would you like to walk to Watch Hill tomorrow evening?”
“Sure!” replied Mel.
“Great. I was thinking we could get ice cream or something at the restaurant there. And if we time it right, we could watch the sunset on the way.”
“Oh, that sounds perfect.” Mel could hardly believe it! Justin Hart, the boy she had been spying on just that morning, was asking her for a date. Anyway, it was as close to a date as she had ever come.
“Where should we meet?” asked Justin.
“At the Casino?”
“Okay. I’ll wait for you by the soda machines at seven o’clock.” Justin stood up. “I really should be getting back. I told Leila I wouldn’t be gone long, and I hate to make her worry.”
“I should probably go, too.” Mel took one last look at the bay and got to her feet. She and Justin walked back along the dock. Justin, she noticed, was exactly as tall as she was. She matched her stride to his and walked just close enough to him so that their shoulders and elbows touched lightly.
At the end of the dock they separated. “See you tomorrow!” Mel called.
Justin grinned. “Seven o’clock!”
Mel walked sedately along the boardwalk in front of the Harbor Store. After a few moments, she looked over her shoulder. Justin had already disappeared. Mel broke into a frantic run and tore home.
“Mom! Mom!” she cried as she burst through the front door of Moonrise House.
“Melanie? What is it?” Mrs. Braderman stepped out of the bedroom, looking worried.
“It’s great news! Oh, I can’t believe it!” Mel collapsed on the couch, hugging herself with joy.
“Well, what? Tell me.”
Mel sat up and patted the couch next to her.
Mrs. Braderman took a seat. “Do you want your father to hear this news, too?”
“Sure,” replied Mel.
“Honey!” Mrs. Braderman called. “Come here for a sec. Mel has some news.”
Mel’s father joined them on the couch.
“Okay, here goes I…,” said Mel, trying to drag out the suspense (her father looked at his watch), “have a date tomorrow night.”
“A date? With a boy?” asked Mr. Braderman.
“Of course with a boy.”
“Honey, that’s wonderful,” said her mother. “Do we know this boy?”
“No, not really. His name is Justin Hart. Oh, Mom, he’s so cute. And nice. I really like him.”
“Where’s he taking you on the date?” her father wanted to know.
“We’re going to walk to Watch Hill at sunset.”
“Hmm. Are your mother and I going to meet him first?”
“Probably not. He’s just going to wait for me in front of the Casino.”
“Well…”
“Dad, what is it?”
“I’d kind of like to see what he’s like before you go off on a date with him. Where did you meet him?”
“On the beach. I think he’s shy, Dad,” said Mel. “Besides, what are you worried about? We’ll walk through the wildlife preserve. A lot of people will be around at that hour. We won’t be alone for a second. I can go, can’t I? You’re not going to deprive me of my very first date…are you?”
Mel’s parents looked at each other. They shrugged. “I don’t see why you can’t go,” her father said at last.
Mel grinned. “Thanks, Dad.”
Mrs. Braderman hugged her. “Honey, I’m so happy for you.”
“Me, too,” said Mel. “I’m very happy for me.”