Usually, making art chilled Julianne out, but today she was surprisingly distracted. The anniversary of her mother’s death was coming up, and Julianne really wanted to have this painting finished by the time it rolled around. It was a challenge for her to paint in her mother’s lush, representational style, though. Julianne’s work was generally more abstract. She usually loved working in mixed media, but she felt compelled to do this painting her mom’s way—to experience the way her mom ticked as an artist. Trying to channel her mom’s method was a huge struggle for her, but Julianne desperately wanted to make this painting work.
Today, however, as sweat beaded across her forehead and Lily Allen’s voice bounced out of her iPod, Jules felt like she was fighting a losing battle. She just couldn’t focus. Her mind kept floating across the beach. When the breeze came up off the water, she was in heaven. She stuck the end of her paintbrush in her messy bun for safekeeping and walked around the canvas, first clockwise, then counterclockwise. She picked up her easel and shuffled a few feet to the left, then to the right again.
Julianne wiped her paint-covered hands on the front of her Bermuda shorts and sighed. It felt so much more natural to just take a photo—everything was captured instantly, beautifully, looking exactly like what it was, only better. The water looked perfectly crisp and invit-ing, and the surfer guys dotting the waves didn’t look half bad either. Julianne quickly pulled off her shorts and tank top, revealing her new green Betsey Johnson bikini. She tossed her clothes and bandana on top of her Reefs, set her paintbrush down on her easel, and ran for the water.
The second Jules’s toes hit the salt water, she felt her good mood come rushing back to her. She walked in up to her waist, then ducked down, letting the waves rush up to her shoulders, cooling her down instantly. She swam out a few feet and bobbed around, surveying the scene. Some guys from town were tossing a football by the edge of the water, trying not to take out the occasional low-flying seagull. On either side of her, surfers were flexing their strong arms and pushing up onto their boards before gracefully gliding to shore. Mixed in with the boys, Julianne was happy to see some girls represent-ing out on the waves. Maybe this will be the summer I step up my own surf skill s , Julianne thought. Chloe had always been more the swimmer and surfer in the family, while Julianne spent most of her time on the beach running or sketching. She was a strong enough swimmer and, more often than not, she was able to push up, stay up, and ride in on her board. But Jules knew she’d never really spent the time it takes to get really good at surfing. Kat, who was an amazing surfer, always said it was a shame Julianne didn’t spend more time on her board; she swore the cutest guys were always surfers. The group laughing and shouting to Jules’s left served as proof. If she could up her skills by the time Kat returned from Madrid, her best friend would be so impressed. Julianne made a mental note to add some surfing time to her summer to-do list.
Beyond the cluster of hot surfers, Julianne noticed a red ponytail whipping behind a girl on a longboard. Jules only knew one person in the Palisades with that fiery hair.
“Lucy!” She called out to her friend, but the crashing of a wave swallowed her voice. Julianne’s mind flashed back to her search for Lucy and her lost negatives at the party the other night. As much as she’d been hoping to find her friend, Julianne didn’t regret what she’d done instead one bit. I wonder if Remi surfs, she thought dreamily.
Julianne laughed at herself, dunking her head underwater. Why couldn’t she stop thinking about Remi? He had been in her head constantly since he’d hurtled into Chloe at high speed. Jules had never felt something click like that so instantly. And the way he’d looked at her right before she ran off … Her stomach twisted into a million pretzels just thinking about it. He had looked at her the way she looked through her camera at a perfect shot—transfixed, amazed, like he could suddenly see everything clearly. Talking to Remi was the most fun she’d had in months—and she liked to think that she had a pretty awesome time, generally speaking. Their banter had been so breezy and electric. And now all she wanted was to pick up where they’d left off.
Well, Julianne figured, no point in trying to avoid reality.
She shook her head to herself. Although the realization made her vaguely sick, she couldn’t deny that seeing Remi might have been a one-time deal. Refusing to sulk on such a beautiful day, she paddled back into the crowd of laughing surfers and swimmers, feeling the sun warming her back through the water. Her muscles already loose from her swim, Jules stretched her arms as far as they could go, reaching out for the perfect slicing stroke and shooting through the water. About twenty yards out, she stopped swimming and bobbed up in the cool surf, waiting for the swell of waves behind her. Since she didn’t have a surfboard with her, she figured she would just ride waves toward the shore for a while, then ask to borrow someone’s board once she got the hang of it. As she heard the familiar roll of an approaching wave, Julianne began stroking forward, gaining speed as the wave did. The growing wall of water caught up to her back and pushed her toward the beach. As the white bubbles of the breaking wave crashed over and around her, Julianne shot back up into the sunshine, exhilarated.
Grinning, she swam
