Dying for Chocolate

She assumed a light tone. “I’d hate to think what would happen if you actually had to be responsible, Julian. Now you have to drive back to the club, and I’m going to be late for the library. If you were me, would you be upset?”

I took a deep breath and said, “Now, now.” Almost immediately, I regretted opening my mouth. Both teenagers turned mind-your-own-beeswax looks in my direction. I said, “I’ll take Arch home if it will speed things up. There’s really no need for a conflict here.”

Sissy said, “Since when are you the expert at patching things up?”

I itched to say something bitchy, but remembered my words to Arch regarding taunting on the playground. I’d say, Don’t get down on their level, sweetheart, just walk away. For once, I took my own advice.

“Hey, wait up!” Julian hollered after me when I had reached the landing.

“I’ll be looking for Arch,” I called over my shoulder.

Outside the weather obliged by rolling a cool breeze off the mountains. More dark clouds threatened. Where had Arch gotten to, anyway?

“Look, hey, I’m sorry about that,” said Julian when he reached me. He cast his eyes down, embarrassed. I leaned against a dusty Acura Legend. It was an expensive car; probably belonged to a seventeen-year-old.

I said, “You’re not responsible for the way she acts, you know. Even if you were married to her, you wouldn’t be responsible for her. And by the way, I would strongly advise against further interest in this girl.”

He pulled his mouth over in a half-smile.

“The caterer with the advice.”

“Oh,” I said, “spare me.” I called Arch’s name.

Droplets of rain splatted into the dust as I began to traipse toward the pool site. Julian was close on my heels. I found myself worrying about the water dripping through the pinpoints of Julian’s bleached hair. His scalp would become drenched. He would come down with bronchitis. Not responsible, I reminded myself, not responsible! In fact, I would serve Hostess Twinkies in hell before I would tell him to cover his head.

“Look!” Julian raised his voice over the hissing of the rain. “Sissy’s just—”

“You don’t need to make excuses.”

We came up on the pool site. Fat lot of good a six-foot fence would do if someone left the gate open. In the pool, Arch, splashing around as if he were blind, yelled, “Marco!”

I called again. The two friends who had been answering “Polo!” leaped out of the pool and disappeared. I thought, Aren’t there any regulations around here? I howled for Arch and glared at Julian.

He went on talking as if it were not raining and I was not trying to get Arch out of the pool. He said, “Sissy’s sort of, like, possessive.”

“Ah. Explains everything.” I crossed my arms and tried to ignore the rain. Once Arch realized his friends were gone, he opened his eyes, saw me, and propelled himself up the side of the pool. He yelled that he would be there in a minute.

“Really,” Julian said. He craned his neck back and shook his head the way a wet dog would. “She worries about me.”

“I think you had it right the first time.”

“Thing is, I’m not sure she . . . wants me.” He shifted his weight and looked around. I wanted to say something about perhaps trying another hairdo when without warning he leaned close to me.

“What is it?” I blustered, and thought immediately of Brian Harrington. Why were males suddenly attracted to me? Maybe I was losing weight.

“What’s the secret?” he said in a low tone.

“What secret?”

“About aphrodisiacs.”

I said, “You’re a child, for God’s sake!”

A throat cleared behind us. I turned around.

It was Tom Schulz. His head was cocked, his eyebrows lifted. Arch, wearing flip-flops, clopped up to join us. He shivered underneath his towel.

“What were you doing?” I demanded of him.

Arch tsked, as if I were terribly overbearing.

Tom Schulz murmured, “Might want to ask the same thing of you, Miss G.”

At that moment Sissy strode up; she and Julian wordlessly withdrew.

“Hey!” Arch called after them. “I thought you guys were taking me!”

“Things have changed,” I announced. “I’m taking you. After I get an explanation.”

His lips were blue, but he managed to say, “It’s not official, but they’ve filled the pool with water. We were just having some fun. But then it started raining.”

I said, “No kidding.” I brushed raindrops from my face and arms. “Would you please get into the van?” I handed him the keys. He knew how to start it and warm it up. He also knew better than to launch a verbal defense at that moment.

Schulz said, “Want to get into my car for a minute? I can tell when you’re not in one of your better moods, Miss Goldy.”

“Should I be in a good mood?” The raindrops turned to heavy mist. The road to Aspen Meadow was shrouded in fog and rain, just as it had been after the brunch. The pool water reflected the dark sky. “I’m worried about Arch,” I said. “I want to stay where I can see him.”

Schulz said, “By the way, I do think Julian Teller is a little young for you.”

I gasped sharply.

His large, moist face beamed when he laughed.