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"I'm sorry I got angry at you before," I said. "It really isn't any of your fault. I shouldn't have let her talk me into this."

"You were at a disadvantage. Gisselle loves to take advantage of people whenever she can. It doesn't surprise me. But from now on, don't be anyone but yourself. I haven't known you very long, Ruby, but I think you're a very nice girl who's been through some terrible things and has managed to keep her good nature. Don't let Gisselle ruin it," he warned. A moment later, I felt his hand on my cheek. His touch was soft, but I shuddered with surprise.

"Anyway, you kiss better," he whispered. My heart began to thump again. His hand was on my shoulder and then, I felt his breath on my face and sensed his lips moving closer and closer until they found mine. I didn't resist this time, and when his tongue touched mine, I let my own tongue run over the tip of his. He moaned and then, we heard pounding on the door and parted quickly.

"Beau Andreas, you get yourself out here this minute, you hear. This minute," Gisselle cried. Beau laughed.

"Who is it?" he called through the closed door.

"You know very well who I am," she cried. "Now get out here."

Beau opened the door and Gisselle stepped back. A confused Martin stood beside her. She had her arms folded and she wobbled a bit.

"What do you two think you're doing?" she demanded. "Ruby," he began, "your sister and I--"

"You know I'm not Ruby and she's not me. You know it, Beau Andreas."

"What?" he said, pretending shock and surprise. He looked at me and stepped back. "I could never have known. This is amazing."

"Just stop it, Beau. It was just a little joke. And you," she said, flicking her bloodshot eyes over me. "You played along real well for someone who said she was scared it wouldn't work."

"What is this?" Martin finally said. "Who's who?"

The three of us turned to him. Beau and Gisselle burst into laughter first and then, feeling lighthearted from the rum and Beau's kisses, I couldn't help but laugh myself.

Gisselle explained the prank to Martin and the four of us began again, this time Martin sitting next to me. Gisselle kept pouring the rum into the Cokes, drinking one almost as quickly as she made it. I drank only a little more, but my head was spinning anyway. Afterward, Gisselle pulled Beau into the cabana, gazing back at me with satisfaction as she closed the door behind them.

I sat back on the lounge, unable to clear my mind of Beau's warm touch and Beau's warm kiss. Was it the effect of the rum that filled me with such warmth?

Martin suddenly embraced me and kissed me and tried to go further, but I pushed him away firmly.

"Hey," he said, his eyes half closed, "what's wrong? I thought we were having fun."

"Despite what you might have heard or believed about girls who come from the bayou, Martin, I'm not like that. I'm sorry," I said.

The rum had definitely gotten to him and he mumbled some apology before falling back on the lounge. Moments later, he was asleep. I waited beside him, but we didn't have to wait long. Suddenly, Beau and Gisselle emerged from the cabana. She was crying about her stomach and heaving so hard, I thought she threw up her lunch as well as her supper. Martin woke up and he and I stood back and watched. She realized what was happening and sobbed with embarrassment.

"I'll take care of her," I told Beau. "You'd better leave."

"Thanks," he said. "This isn't the first time she's done this," he added, and whispered good night after he first whispered, "Yours was the kiss I'll remember tonight."

I was speechless for a moment, watching them walk off, and then Gisselle wailed.

"Oh, I'm going to die!"

"You won't die, but you'll sure wish you had if I remember the way Grandpere felt sometimes," I told her. She moaned again and heaved up some more.

"I've ruined this new blouse," she cried. "Oh, I feel horrible. My head is pounding."

"You'd better go to sleep, Gisselle," I said.

"I can't. I can't move."

"I'll help you into the house. Come on." I embraced her and started her forward.

"Don't let Mother catch us," she warned. "Wait," she said. "Take the bottle of rum in, too." I hated doing all these sneaky things, but I had no choice. With the bottle in the basket in one hand, I helped her

up with the other and guided her back to the house, slipping as silently as we could through the door.