Page 16 of Beaches, Bagels & Babes

Daisy

F or many, senior year of high school is the precipice of a new chapter. A year of exciting change, new horizons, and previously unreachable bounds coming within sight. For Daisy, it was when her world stopped.

That year, one rainy October night, Daisy’s parents were in an accident.

As the pair drove across the lone bridge that connected Wonderwood to the mainland, their car went over the guardrail into the bay.

The police report said there were signs of speeding.

Considering the bad weather, they deemed it an open-and-shut case. Her parents were gone.

At first, Daisy was in a haze. She hardly remembered the first few months as a handful of teachers and her school counselor guided her through the funeral.

Since she was a newly minted eighteen-year-old, she was essentially on her own.

Her father had been estranged from his family, and her mother’s half lived on the other side of the country.

She did not have any friends because she had always been so busy working. Very suddenly, she was on her own.

Daisy was raised to be independent. Even if she had people to ask for help, she did not know how. So, she did the one thing she knew: she worked.

Keeping Bagel Bombs! open became her number one priority.

The place meant everything to her parents, and they would have been devastated if it ever closed.

Plus, Daisy needed the money. The cozy bay cottage bungalow she inherited was paid off, but she had regular bills and daily expenses.

It was also not long before Peter Perry, along with his strongly worded lawyer letter, informed her of the imminent rent payments she had coming for Bagel Bombs’! space on the boardwalk.

Daisy was in over her head. There was so much paperwork, all of it in terms she could barely understand.

Her parents had taken a lackadaisical approach to teaching Daisy about the business side of running Bagel Bombs!

, and it was not like she had wanted to learn.

Now, though, Daisy had to figure things out.

She could not afford to stop. All day, every day, she pushed herself to exhaustion until the only thing she could do was sleep.

By June, a bit of relief was on the horizon with Daisy’s upcoming graduation.

Wonderwood Public was a small school, and her teachers had been more than lenient with her about turning assignments late (or not at all).

Still, it was one less thing she had to worry about with the summer season kicking into high gear.

She would not have to hear her peers talk excitedly about fun plans, big graduation parties thrown by their loving families, or upcoming college adventures.

Or, so she thought.

One Friday after school, the week before graduation, Daisy worked yet another shift at Bagel Bombs!

. It was primetime for sunbathers to get their last bit of beach lounging for the day, and usually a lull time for the bread business.

She was neck-deep in the fountain soda freezer, scraping a thick layer of frost, when they approached the counter.

The girls were local teens like Daisy, all high school seniors, too.

They were the children of well-off Wonderwooders, and they attended the expensive private school on the mainland in Cape Crest. The girls’ blue plaid skirts and white polo shirt uniforms made them easy to tell apart, along with the air of superiority that followed wherever they went.

Their money was as good as anyone else’s, at least.

Brushing ice chips from her arms, Daisy stood before the register and waited.

The girl who stepped forward for the group was the only one not wearing a Holy Mother Prep uniform.

Daisy recognized Demitria, “Demi,” Panopoulos, with her dark olive skin and her lion’s mane auburn hair that was pulled into a bun.

She attended Wonderwood High with Daisy and was also a member of the “child labor club,” thanks to working at her aunt’s restaurant on the other end of the boardwalk.

Demi was not too bad. She had an easy smile and was friendlier than most. When they passed each other in the hallways at school, she waved despite being a part of the popular crowd. Despite being best friends with the Pier Princess herself, Candace Perry.

Was she here?

Since that first hot summer day they met, Daisy sometimes caught glimpses of her.

She watched Candace from afar over the years, heard the town locals fawn over Peter Perry and his darling charge.

The pair were Wonderwood royalty, with eyes that followed wherever they went.

She never ordered directly from Bagel Bombs!

again, but, every so often, they would run into each other around town and exchange polite hellos.

Candace was kind and courteous to everyone, after all.

It was Daisy’s imagination that the girl’s eyes shone brighter and attention lingered longer on her .

Right?

Not that it mattered. Even if she were somehow right about Candace having an interest in her, Daisy would never have the metaphorical balls to act on it.

Daisy was far from out about her sexuality.

It was not that Wonderwood was unsafe. She did not necessarily feel the need to hide her attraction to other girls.

Yet, there was a prevailing “don’t ask, don’t tell” sentiment that the locals seemed content with.

South-south Jersey was, as her mom used to say, just under the Mason-Dixon line, so social attitudes trended conservative.

Plus, like any other teens, her peers were jackals with gossip.

After her parents’ accident, the last thing she wanted was more attention.

So, Daisy would not look for the girl she definitely did not have a crush on.

Deadpan, she asked Demi, “Can I take your order?”

It was a large list, and years of customer service training kept Daisy focused on writing it down. Until Demi paused and called over her shoulder. “Oh, shoot! Can-can, what was the last kind you wanted? Can-can? Hey!”

Can-can? Daisy tried not to snicker at the nickname. Then, amusement was replaced by a distinctly different feeling. It was her .

Matching her schoolmates, Candace wore the same collared white polo and blue plaid skirt uniform.

It was not like the Catholic School, over-sexed getups they showed on TV.

The polo shirt was plain, with an elastic hem that made the garment relatively formless on both male and female bodies.

After years of students rolling their skirts to make them shorter, the school switched to longer versions that looked like they belonged in a church choir.

And the penny loafers were straight out of Grease .

How does Candace look so much hotter ?

Maybe it was her legs. Candace had grown into a tall bombshell over the last few years.

The navy knee high socks she wore did things to Daisy’s imagination, a swell of salacious thoughts that would have landed her in a confessional if she gave a damn about that sort of thing.

No, she would keep these fantasies between herself and the vibrator she got at Spencer’s .

The flecks of ice that covered Daisy melted as she started to sweat.

Candace was beet-red by the time she worked her way through the boardwalk throng. In a hiss of a voice, she admonished Demi. “I told you not to call me that! It’s Candace. Can– DACE. And what are you talking about? I didn’t want any.”

The girl’s eyes slingshotted from Demi, to the bagel display, to Daisy in record time. They lingered, looked so long on and deliberately on Daisy, that she could not have imagined it.

Demi huffed. “You’re ridiculous, you know that? It’s not like he’s watching… right now, at least. Order the damn bagel, Candace.”

The Pier Princess faced her friend defiantly. Stone-like, she said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The pair had a staredown while Daisy was held hostage at the register.

Not that she wanted to look away. The excuse to observe her crush this closely when she was not being the weird one was a rare opportunity.

Even so, she was confused, and then a bit grumpy.

Who was this “he” they talked about? Daisy heard that Candace dated some boys from both Wonderwood Public and the prep, but the relationships never seemed to last long.

If this newest guy was trying to control what she ate, Candace needed to dump his ass.

Feeling testy the more she thought about this hypothetical boyfriend, Daisy goaded Candace. “C’mon, the carbs aren’t gonna kill you. But I might die of boredom if you take any longer.”

Guilt surged inside Daisy as Candace’s attention flashed to her.

Embarrassment, maybe even anger, drew her fair features tight.

She snapped, “Fine. Two cinnamon, two asiago, two peanut butter and jelly.” Before Daisy could comment on the amount—not that she ever would—Candace added, “I need to eat before the bonfire tonight. ”

“Ah. Okay.”

Daisy retrieved the requested bombs from the freezer and set them to toast.

“Are you going?” Demi asked Daisy, and Candace gave the girl a practically audible side-eye. “It seems like our school and the prep are going all out to promote ‘unity,’ or whatever that means. There’ll be fireworks.”

Daisy grimaced. She was not fond of school events and had been glad to have the excuse of the bagel stand when her teachers tried to encourage her to go.

“Eh, I’m going to have to pass. Gotta work.”

“Really? That sucks.”

Shrugging, Daisy repeated, “No can do. I’m the only one who can provide Wonderwood with its bagel fix.”

“Are you sure? You can’t close for one night?”

It was not Demi, but Candace, and she sounded disappointed . She looked as if she had not even realized she spoke aloud until everyone’s attention shot to her. Her mouth shut like a steel trap, and she made a show out of grabbing napkins from the dispenser.