Free Summer Of Fear by Lois Duncan Page B

silent a moment, deciding whether to be kind or to be honest. Honesty won.
    “Yep. I’m sorry, but it’s pretty bad. Like you’ve dyed your face red and have lumps of chewing gum under your skin.”
    “Thanks,” I said flatly, and wondered how I could ever have thought of hugging him.
    I caught Mike at his home. He had gotten the message I had left for him at the pool office but hadn’t taken it seriously. Now I told him I definitely wasn’t going but that Julia would still like to.
    He was regretful but cooperative.
    “I don’t mind taking you with lumps,” he said, “but if you don’t want to make the scene, that’s okay too. As long as Pete will take over at the end of the evening, I don’t mind doing the escort bit for your cousin.”
    “The doctor says I’ll probably be okay by tomorrow,” I told him. “We can plan to do something then.” I tried not to sound as forlorn as I felt. Rachel, you good sport, I told myself, you’re really one outstandingly unselfish girl!
    Later, at the dinner table, that sportsmanship was really put to the test. Julia asked if she could borrow my new dress for the evening.
    “I thought you were going to wear your yellow,” I said. “The one you wore your first night here.”
    Julia wrinkled her nose. It was an expression she had picked up from Carolyn.
    “That thing?” she said with a note of disgust in her voice.
    “It’s a pretty dress.”
    “Not on me, it isn’t.” She shook her head decidedly. “It’s not my type and it doesn’t fit right. The color’s wrong too; it makes me look greenish.”
    I felt like saying, “Why did you buy it then?” I felt like slamming the water glass down on the table and shouting, “No! No, you certainly may not wear my new dress! I haven’t even worn it yet myself!” I felt like doing a lot of things, all of them loud and rude and awful, but I sat and listened to Mother saying, “Why, I’m sure Rae won’t mind lending it to you, dear, since she won’t be wearing it. Do you think it will fit?”
    “I think it will,” Julia said. “Rachel, may I?”
    They were all looking at me, waiting expectantly—Mother, Dad, Peter, even Bobby who was waiting for the question to be settled so he could ask for more potatoes. There was nothing I could say except what they wanted me to say.
    “Yes,” I told her.
    When I saw her, however, actually wearing the dress, it was almost more than I could bear. It did fit Julia as though it had been made for her. The loose-fitting bodice was not loose on her but fit perfectly across the soft curve of her breasts. The shoulder seams fell at the right places and the short swirled skirt showed her long, shapely legs to marvelous advantage. And the color—the color was Julia; the pink reflected in her cheeks and made her eyes glow like two deep, dark, mysterious ponds.
    Her lips curved slightly and she asked, “How do I look?”
    “Beautiful,” Mother said softly. “You look just beautiful. I can remember your mother at your age, dressed for a summer dance. She was beautiful too, but so very different—”
    “Leslie,” Dad interrupted gently, “do you really think this is the time?” and Mother said, “No. No, of course it isn’t. Julia, darling, I’m sorry. How thoughtless of me! This is to be a happy evening for you and here I am, reminding you—”
    “That’s all right,” Julia told her.
    It was all right. I looked into her eyes, and it was there, the look I had seen that first morning when I had wakened and glanced across and she had been lying on her back, gazing up at the ceiling. It was a quiet look, peaceful, pleased. A look of self-confidence that left no room for grief.
    She doesn’t care! Terrible—incredible—the knowledge swept upon me. Her parents are dead, and we’re all so sorry for her—but to Julia, Julia herself, it doesn’t matter! We think she’s so brave, but she isn’t brave—she just doesn’t care!

Eight

    When Mike arrived I did not stay to see