Page 4 of The Seemingly Impossible Love Life of Amanda Dean

Mandy shrugged. Isa didn’t really like baseball either, so on the rare occasion Mandy was allowed to bring someone, she would drag Isa along with the promise of popcorn—even though it was better at the movie theater. But Mandy supposed that Dad wouldn’t mind someone new, especially if they were actually into the sport; then maybe he wouldn’t be so annoyed that she didn’t watch much of the game. “Yeah, sometimes.”

Those dimples seemed to grow a little deeper, and Brandon’s smile got a little bigger. “Awesome.” The way he was looking at herwasawesome—very, very awesome. “Did you see the way Adrián Beltré—”

“Oh, look.” Mandy pointed at the driftwood floating in the surf just ahead of them. She would have to ask Dad for more details about the Dodgers before she could have a conversation with Brandon about baseball. Dad would be elated, but Mandy wasn’t sure she’d done the right thing. Now that she thought about it, learning about baseball sounded more like homework than something fun to do.

“I got it.” Brandon ran out into the tide, splashing water all the way up to his athletic shorts, and grabbed what would become the arms of their sandman.

As the pair walked back to the others, they didn’t talk about baseball, but Brandon did seem to be a lot more interested in their current sandman-building project. And right before they got into earshot of their friends, Brandon turned to Mandy and said, “You know, you’re pretty cool.” He handed Mandy the wood they’d just collected. “Here.”

Wow.

DidtheBrandon Martínez just tell Mandy she was cool?

Mandy had to be dreaming. But no, Brandon and Clay worked on getting one of the pieces of wood just right for Sandman’s arm, and Isa had that eyebrow cocked at Mandy, so she moved toward her with the other piece.

It wasn’t much longer before they were finished with what had to be the best sandman Huntington Beach had ever had on its shores. Too bad they didn’t build it farther back so the tide wouldn’t wash it away. But nevertheless, it had been fun.

As they all said their goodbyes and went their separate ways, Mandy got one last display of those dimples.

“I don’t know,” Isa said as they used the showers at the edge of the parking lot to wash the sand from their feet before putting their flip-flops back on.

“He’s nice,” Mandy said. “And he’s cute.”

Isa pinched her lips together.

“I think Clay likes you.” Mandy raised her brows—both of them, because she couldn’t do that one-brow thing Isa could.

Isa frowned. “No thanks.”

Mandy shook her head. “Okay, but we could totally double-date. It would be sweet.” Mandy pictured them all together hanging out, and those dimples. Oh, they were just so amazing.

“I’ll think about it.” Isa dropped her shoes to the ground with a slap and slipped them back on. “I almost forgot.” She handed Mandy a fully intact sand dollar.

“Oh my god, it’s beautiful. I know just where I’ll put it.” Mandy hooked her arm with Isa’s, and they headed back toward Mandy’s house.

Isa would eventually come around and understand what Mandy saw in Brandon. He wasn’t so much like all the other boys the way she’d thought before. Plus, he didn’t make a single fart joke like he always did at school—that had to mean something, right?

Clay was nice too. Isa was just being cautious, as always. Mandy was sure it would all work out. She was just sure of it.

Chapter Three

January 2015

The Los Angeles artscene was always something to get excited about. There were differences in the talent that came from the West Coast versus the East Coast. Not that one was better than the other. They just each had their own unique personality. It was the air, or people’s attitudes that lived on one coast as opposed to the other that perhaps had an effect on their work. Mandy was never sure. But in her heart of hearts, she was a West Coast girl through and through.

“This is fucking unbelievable.” Sophie’s British accent really seem to punctuate those words even harder in Mandy’s head and her palms started to sweat.

“You don’t think I should’ve brought the smaller canvas instead of this one?” Mandy took stock of all her work hanging on the walls in the small off-the-beaten-path gallery that Friday evening. Was her work distinctive enough? Did her point of view come through clearly? Or were all these paintings just plain bad? Impostor syndrome was a powerful force.

“No. It’s bloody perfect just the way it is. For fuck’s sake, stop second-guessing yourself.” Sophie sounded so confident. So sure. But that’s how Sophie was—her entire persona had always been that ofdon’t-fuck-with-me-I-am-who-I-am. It was one of the things Mandy found most endearing about her.

“If only it were that easy.” Mandy had been working for years—years upon years, if she was being really honest—waiting for this moment. An art show, her first ever. There had been a couple of times she had a piece of hers on display here or there, but tonight it was all Amanda Dean originals. Even the way she ended up here was a fluke. One of those serendipitous moments when Mandy had been in the right place at the right time. So questions ofDid Ideservethis? swirled through her head as destructively as a hurricane.

Mandy had been standing in this very gallery one month ago when it happened. Sophie had flown into town for a quick layover, and the pair made a wrong turn looking for the Thai restaurant they’d decided to try out. One of those hole-in-the-wall places you needed to know someone who knew someone to find out about. After a few blocks, they found themselves not lost, but not where they had hoped to be. They stood in front of Beyond the White Wall instead of Aroy Thai.

“Ugh. What is wrong with this stupid app?” Mandy groaned. She’d spent the morning working on a new project and completely forgot to eat—which wasn’t a terrible thing since she was about to gorge herself on Thai food. “This isn’t where we’re supposed to be.”

“Or is it?” Sophie gave Mandy a knowing glance, and instead of turning around to figure out where the scent of garlic and spices was coming from, pushed through the door of Beyond the White Wall.

---