The new school year was rapidly approaching, and Julianne was still trying to wrap her brain around all that had transpired this summer. So much had happened over the last three months that it seemed crazy to Julianne that she was about to just slide back into another September at Palisades High School—the September of her senior year. She was trying to re-acclimate her brain to academic life by reciting the names and capitals of all fifty states, while she snapped her pictures of the house. Then, when she stopped to 218
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adjust the light meter on her camera to catch some shadows poking up from the sea grass that surrounded the house, something occurred to her. Despite all the end-of-summer stress, at this exact moment, she was at peace.
The sun was at her back. Her nose was filled with the salty air of an August afternoon in Southern California, and she was looking at her crazy life through the lens of a camera.
Even with the crushing loss of her home looming before her, Julianne was still able to create art. It was as easy as looking at life through her own eyes and being completely honest with her vision. Last week she’d taken three rolls of film—one black and white, one sepia toned, and one in eye-popping color—of the ocean view from the beach behind her house. It was the same landscape she had struggled to capture all summer. But viewed through the lens of her camera, the scene came together effortlessly.
Julianne worked her way methodically around the house, snapping pictures for the next three hours. She wanted to remember what the house looked like at every moment of every day—with every change of light. She was also determined not to let her last weeks in the house be a blur of crying and exhaustion. She planned to celebrate life in their little beach home until the Moores and their lawyers dragged her out the front door kicking, screaming, and snapping pictures of the whole mess.
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Julianne was relieved to have wrapped everything up with her job at the site. Her courtyard mural had turned out fabulously, and she was thrilled to have such a great new piece to add to her portfolio. It was also a relief not to have to deal with questions from the guys on the crew about her and Remi.
As the sun slipped down behind the ocean, the sky did its slow-motion fade from brilliant navy blue to the cobalt-gray hybrid of a late summer night. Julianne walked down to the beachfront, her camera tapping against her sternum in time with her heartbeat.
Floating in the haze of her thoughts about her photography, the house, and the arrival of fall, Julianne was only half-aware that she was heading onto the Moores’
property. Beyond the jurisdiction of the orange trespass-ing signs, Julianne’s immediate instinct was to plop down on the sand at the bottom of the construction dunes. She snuggled down at the base of the dune and pulled her legs up in front of her.
You can miss him—it’s okay to miss him, Julianne told herself. She pulled her legs in close to her chest—careful not to disturb her camera—and looked out onto the empty ocean. After a few minutes of listening to the echo of the crashing waves, Julianne realized she was shivering slightly. She stood up, dusted the sand off the bottom of her jeans, and readied herself to head home.
She had only gone two steps toward her house when she 220
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saw light coming from one of the stark, minimalist rooms of the Moores’ glass house. Julianne peered up the hill and saw Remi backlit against the August night.
Even from her perch frozen at the bottom of the dune, Julianne could tell that Remi was arguing with someone. A moment more of peering into the massive glass mansion revealed the designer-suit-clad silhouette of Remi’s father. Remi’s face was twisted into a determined grimace, and he was gesticulating wildly with what appeared to be a roll of paper. His father’s arms were crossed tightly over his double-breasted suit and tie. Julianne instantly remembered that Remi had told her his father only wore imported silk ties, and she rolled her eyes in spite of herself. Remi kept pointing to the paper tube in his hand, the very picture of an agitated, passionate fighter.
Julianne squinted. What the hell? Are they actually fighting over wallpaper samples? She didn’t want to stick around to find out. Clearly, despite his calls and text messages, Remi’s life was complicated enough without her. She shot a last departing look up the dunes at the feuding Moores before turning around. Then she walked back down the beach toward home, humming mourn-fully to herself the entire way.
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Chapter Twenty-four
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The next day, Julianne and Chloe were sitting in the living room reading while their father worked in his studio. Dangling one leg over the side of an overstuffed armchair, Julianne asked Chloe, “So, wait, where does he go to school?”
Chloe popped a pale green grape into her mouth before answering. “Stanford.”
“And what’s his name again?” Julianne pressed.
“Aaron.” Chloe tossed another grape into the air and caught it in her mouth.
“And you met him on rotation at work?” After her own dating drama, Julianne found herself relishing Chloe’s postdate recap.
“Yep. He’s premed, too, but he’s going to be a 222
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junior.” Chloe’s cheeks were glowing a radiant pink. Her date two days ago had been such a success that Julianne thoroughly enjoyed hearing Chloe repeat all the details.
She loved the way her sister’s face glowed when she was this happy.
“And he took you out for Greek food?” Julianne continued.
“Yup. Definite points for that,” Chloe chirped. “I am getting sick to death of first dates with checkered table-cloths and drippy candles. So overplayed.” She giggled.
Julianne rolled her eyes playfully. “Okay, final question, but this one is the ultimate test: Did he ever, at any point in the evening, use the word ‘chicks’ or the delight-full phrase ‘smart for a girl’ in any context?” Chloe shut her eyes and let out a dramatic shudder at Julianne’s reference to her disastrous first/last date with Michael at the beginning of the summer. The sisters laughed wickedly at the memory. “No and no!” Chloe declared victoriously. “There was absolutely no chauvinistic ickiness whatsoever. He was a complete and total rock star.”
Julianne arched one eyebrow to let Chloe know that she was appropriately impressed. “Well, then, ladies and gents, I think we have a winner!”
“I hope so,” Chloe remarked. “Have you given any thought to art school applications yet?”
“Not so much,” Julianne admitted. “Although I was 223
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thinking that the courtyard mural I did this summer might give me an edge. Not many people do outdoor art.”
“And don’t forget the pictures of our house! The sepia ones you took have ‘professional artist’ written all over them,” Chloe added excitedly.
“Well, I’ll clearly know who to call when I need a manager.”
“I thought you’d never ask,” Chloe shot back glee-fully. “Do you want to hear my short-term educational plan for you, or the five-year business plan?” Just as Chloe was opening her mouth to share her (inevitably alphabetized and color-coded) strategies with her sister, the doorbell rang.
“Ooh, saved by the bell! You got lucky this time, Jules.” Chloe jumped up and ran to the door.
Julianne heard her sister scamper into the hallway and throw open the door without even pausing to look out the peephole. She heard the opening whoosh, but then nothing else. After a few seconds of total silence, Julianne ambled over to her sister and was struck dumb.