Chapter Seven

George bounced his basketball up and down, the ball making a loud PING each time it smacked the ground. Everyone watched it with anticipation for George to throw it, as if it were a game of ping pong. Finally, he scooped it up swiftly and shot it into the net. Tod, Alex, and Clear's heads all followed the sailing orange ball. Then Tod stood up abruptly.

"Okay!" he said quickly, "You've gone long enough--my turn!" He lunged at the ball, and his brother pulled it out of the way.

Alex snorted at the brothers' immature antics and grabbed the ball from George. "Lemme show you how it's done," he said with a smirk.

With a cocky grin, he raised the ball over his head, ducked down, and flung it into the air. It didn't even come close to the net. Clear gazing at the fallen ball, stretched up from the picnic table she was sitting on. "Oh, Alex," she sighed, clicking her tongue, "You're pathetic."

He held the ball out to her. "You think this is easy?" he tested, "Try it!"

"Fine," she said stubbornly.

Standing up with her nose high in the air, she grasped the orange ball tightly and leaned towards the net. Why did everyone think she was a sports klutz? She used to play a mean game of basketball in junior high, she just stopped when things had gotten complicated. Filled with pride, she launched the ball smoothly into the air and watched as it surfed through the hole of the net.

"All right!" she cried, holding her hands up in the air. "In your face, Browning!" She did a little victory dance.

George put his arm around her. A million sensations rushed through her. "Clear," he said in a funny voice, "You're all right." She leaned her face towards his. He looked right back at her.

His green eyes burned holes through her brain. At first, Clear thought she couldn't breathe. Her heart almost stopped. It was almost as if George was getting closer to her. But he wasn't. He was just standing next to her, his hand slowly slipping off her shoulder. Her mouth hung open in shock. What had just happened?

George's mouth was also gaping. But he clamped it just and looked Clear straight in the eye. "Clear," he began with a nervous squeak, "Er, wanna play some two-on-two against these clowns?"

Clear blinked, realizing her mouth was still hanging open stupidly. "Er, yeah," she mumbled, "That would be great."

***

Carter sat on his bed, a pouting expression on his face. So far, Christa and Blake couldn't come, neither could his best friend, Ricky. All his other friends were away. What would he do at this party? Dozer hated him already--he was definitely just some pesky high school kid to Mark and his friends.

He looked outside his window, where Browning, Rivers, and the Wankers were playing a game of basketball. For some reason, just for a second, he forgot how much he hated each and every one of them and thought of joining them. But then he remembered--Alex had given him a bloody lip the night before, and Clear, Tod, and George stuck to him like flies on a toffee candy. They certainly were becomming tight. Four misfits.

But looking into his mirror at his sad expression, Carter realized he fit in at Iroquois Lake as much as a bug in a burger.

A loud buzz ripped through the cabin, nearly knocking Carter to the floor. It was music. The bass line was shaking the house. Carter slowly straightened himself up and peeked out his "door," where Mark and Dozer were setting up a sound system. Carter trotted up to them. "Hey, guys!" he greeted with a smile.

Dozer and Mark nodded their greetings. Carter picked up a CD that was sitting on the speaker. He read the songlist. "Eminem... 50 Cent... Nelly? Nelly!? No way! People want punk music at a party! Get one with some Sum 41 or Andrew W.K!"

Dozer smirked. "Carter, maybe people in Junior High like punk at a party, but would you rather have a hot sorority girl taking her top off to 'Hot in Here' or to 'Fat Lip?'

Carter rolled his eyes. Dozer was huge, a pig, and though he was in his early twenties, he was still full of zits. No way would he have a stripping sorority girl by his side tonight. "What about outside? We need string lights, a bonfire, a few chairs--and what kind of cottage doesn't have a picnic table?"

Mark crossed his arms at his cousin. "Carter, use your slimey little head! This party isn't going to be outside! Duh! Have you ever heard of cops?" Then he turned to Dozer and smiled. "Carter," he said, walking to his cousin, "We're gonna start mixing drinks. You can join us if you want... you just have to do a little favor for us a the party."

Carter nodded. "What?"

"Well, for the first twenty minutes... or so... you're going to be on cop watch."

***

Maralynn kepped waddling in and out of the house. "Clear?" she called, "You're sure you don't want a nice ham sandwhich for supper?"

Clear shook her head and went back to the barbacue with Mr. Waggner. The two, plus the guys, were on the beach, grilling supper. Mr. Waggner was tending to his steaks while Clear was examining a grilling red bell pepper. "You're going to love red bell pepper butter," she told him, removing the hot pepper from the grill and removing the burnt spots, "It's great with corn!"

She glanced at the guys, who were joking around at the boiling pot of corn on the cob, Clear's vegeterian alternative. "How are you guys doing?" she asked loudly.

Tod stared into the pot. "They're, uh... cooking!"

Clear slid the pepper into a baggie. "I'd better help them."

"Good idea," Mr. Waggner agreed.

Forty minutes later, the corn was revived, the steaks were ready, and Clear's red bell pepper butter was totally tasty. Mr. Waggner was eating his food on the dock, with a fishing line cast out. The kids were chatting at the table.

"So, Clear," George was saying flirtaciously, "We'll come to your window at nine, okay? Be ready."

Clear nodded. "Maralynn should be dreaming by then."

Tod shook his head. "I'll be on landing crew. You're not getting me through there again!"

Clear raised her eyebrows at Tod. "Why were you in there anyways?"

"It's just something every guy does once in a while," Alex jumped in, covering for his friend, who's only excuse was he was a typical horny teenage boy. "He just wanted to surprise you!"

Clear sighed. "Whatever. I have a feeling I'm going to surprise you guys at this party."

No one had any idea what she meant, so, George, covering for the silence, cleared his throat. Clear looked at him, anticipating what he was going to say. Every second passed like an hour.

He opened his mouth.

"Pass the butter."