Teen Beach 2 Read online

  Copyright © 2015 Disney Enterprises, Inc.

  Cover design © 2015 Disney Enterprises, Inc.

  All rights reserved. Published by Disney Press, an imprint of Disney Book Group. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher. For information address Disney Press, 1101 Flower Street, Glendale, California 91201.

  ISBN 978-1-4847-1137-8

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  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  An Interview with Garrett Clayton & Grace Phipps!

  Photos from the Film

  “Are we there yet?” Mack asked.

  The late summer sun was just setting, glinting off Brady’s blond hair as he led Mack down the sandy path. Blindfolded, Mack held tightly to Brady’s hand.

  “We’re not doing that ‘blindfold surfing’ thing again, are we?” Mack asked. “’Cause that didn’t exactly end up being one of your better ideas.”

  “First of all, that buoy had no business being there,” Brady said. “Second, no. We’re not going to surf. At least not yet.”

  The path opened into a clearing. Brady gazed around, proud of his work. Two tiki torches burned brightly. He had hung a sheet between two trees and set up a laptop and two big speakers. Then he’d decorated two beach chairs with flowers and placed them in front of his outdoor movie screen. Behind the screen, ocean waves lapped the shore of a secluded cove. Mangrove trees, their thick, gnarled roots reaching into the water, shaded everything.

  It’s perfect, Brady thought. Almost as perfect as Mack.

  Even with her blindfold on, she looked beautiful. Her long brown hair hung in waves that reminded him of the ocean they both loved so much. Her skin had a sun-kissed glow from a summer of surfing. A silver necklace with a flower charm hung around her neck.

  Brady stopped inside the clearing.

  “Okay, guess where we are,” he said.

  “Hmmm,” said Mack. “I hear waves.”

  Then she sniffed. “There’s salt in the air. Mangrove trees. It’s so familiar….”

  “You recognize it?” Brady asked hopefully.

  “Nope,” Mack replied.

  Brady was bummed. “Oh.”

  Then Mack smiled coyly. “Unless it’s the clearing between the two twisted palms, next to Wipeout Rock, which happens to be the exact spot where we met three months ago to the day.”

  Grinning, Brady pulled off Mack’s blindfold.

  “To the minute, actually,” Brady pointed out. “At the beginning of what’s turned out to be the most bodacious summer of my life.”

  “Even the little part where we got trapped in a 1960s beach movie?” Mack asked.

  “Even that part,” Brady said.

  Mack wasn’t kidding. Just a few days before, Mack had been paddling into the ocean on her grandfather’s surfboard when a storm kicked up. Brady rode out on his Jet Ski to help her. A huge wave wiped them out, and when the water calmed down, they found themselves inside the movie Wet Side Story. It had been weird, but totally real.

  “I thought for a ‘meet-iversary’ we could reenact the actual moment we met,” he said, walking over to a palm tree. “I was here, watching said 1960s beach movie on my tablet.”

  “And I thought, ‘Who’s the surf bum with the ridiculous hair?’” Mack continued. “But then you said…”

  “‘Hey, you want to watch the awesomest movie ever made?’ And you said…” Brady waited for Mack to chime in. “Come on, say it.”

  Mack smiled. “I said, ‘I don’t think “awesomest” is a real word. And even if it is, this movie’s hardly it.’”

  “And then I said, ‘Check it out with me, and if you don’t totally dig it, I’ll buy you a smoothie,’” Brady continued. “‘You win either way.’ And…”

  “We watched the end of Wet Side Story together, and I kind of dug it,” Mack admitted.

  Brady took a remote from his pocket and hit it. The movie started playing on-screen. Peppy beach music blared through the speakers, and kids in colorful bathing suits sang and danced in the sand.

  “Watching it on a tablet just didn’t seem festive enough,” Brady said.

  Mack took it all in: the screen, the torches, the chairs.

  It’s perfect, she thought. Almost as perfect as Brady. Now she thought his tousled blond hair was adorable, and his blue eyes reminded her of the ocean they both loved so much.

  “You did all this for me?” she asked.

  Brady nodded toward the ocean. “I’d swim to China for you. Or Hawaii. Or whatever’s that way. I have no idea what’s that way.”

  Mack grabbed his hand. “You’re—”

  “The best boyfriend in history?” Brady asked.

  “A total cheese ball,” Mack said.

  Brady smiled. “That, too.”

  They settled into the chairs to watch the movie. The characters in the film had become real to them after their adventure—real friends. It was strange seeing them on the screen.

  The movie played out exactly as Mack and Brady had remembered. The surfers and the bikers argued over who would control Big Mama’s, their favorite hangout. Then biker girl Lela and surfer boy Tanner fell in love, and things got tense—until the two groups banded together to stop some bad guys from using their weather machine to drive the surfers and bikers away from the beach.

  At the end of the movie, the bikers and surfers gathered together on the beach. Butchy, the leader of the bikers, stepped forward.

  “Tanner, we’s did it,” he said, with a tough-guy accent. “We defeated the villainous lighthouse villains and saved the beach. Who woulda thunk it?”

  “I would have thunk it, Butchy,” replied super-tan surfer boy Tanner. “I never doubted me for a second.”

  He smiled, and ping! His brilliant-white front teeth gleamed. Then he grabbed raven-haired biker beauty Lela and she smiled up at him.

  “Here’s what I says,” Butchy went on. “I says we all go to Big Mama’s together. You know, like in a group.”

  “I’ve got a better idea,” Tanner said.

  “You do?” Butchy asked.

  “Of course I do,” Tanner replied. “I’m Tanner.” Then the music swelled, and the bikers and surfers spread out on the sand and sang the movie’s closing song: “Best Summer Ever.”

  Brady was standing on his seat, singing and dancing along with the movie. When the song finished, he looked at Mack.

  “And of course, when the movie ended…”

  “We went surfing,” Mack finished, smiling, as Brady revealed two boards hidden behind a palm tree.

  They paddled out on the water and rode the waves under the moonlight. Once they were in deeper water, they sat on their boards, staring at the horizon.

  “It’s too bad that summers in real life have to end,” Mack said with a sigh.

  “Hey, it’s not over yet,” Brady said. “We can light a bonfire, rock some s’mores…”

  “Brady, tomorrow’s the first day of school,” Mack reminded him. “I gotta finish the summer reading, print fliers for the new oceanography club, get all my supplies together…”

  “Right. I gotta do all that stuff, too,” Brady said. Then he paused. “Actually, I don’t. If I remember to put on my board shorts in the morning, I’m pretty stoked
with myself.”

  Brady was joking, but deep down, something was bothering him.

  “Mack, are you nervous about tomorrow? That maybe things’ll be different for us at school?” he asked.

  “We were in school all last year together,” Mack reminded him.

  “And we never even met,” Brady said. “That’s my point. We’ve only known each other in summer. School’s a totally new deal.”

  Mack thought about it.

  “Brady. It’s us. We’re gonna be fine,” she said.

  Brady smiled, relieved. “Of course. You’re right. It’s us.”

  They looked into each other’s eyes.

  What an amazing summer, Mack thought. We’ve been through so much crazy stuff together. School will be easy!

  Absently, she reached to touch her necklace—but she couldn’t feel it!

  “Oh, no! No, no, no!” she wailed.

  “What’s wrong?” Brady asked. “Leg cramp? Jellyfish? Tidal wave?”

  “My necklace!” Mack cried. “The one that Lela gave me…it’s gone. It must have fallen off in the waves.” She felt like crying.

  “Oh, man, I’m so sorry,” Brady said. “You want me to dive for it? Maybe it’s still nearby.”

  Mack shook her head. “No, that would be…”

  “Like trying to find a tiny necklace in a huge ocean. At night,” Brady finished.

  Mack stared at the water. A chill washed over her, and she shivered. “Nothing we can do now,” she said. “Let’s ride one in.”

  They paddled off.

  Beneath them, drifting below the waves, the necklace glowed with an eerie magic….

  The first school bell of the day rang as crowds of kids made their way to Windy Bluff High School, excited to be going back. The school was so close to the beach that you could hear the roar of the waves inside every classroom.

  Brady biked up to the school in his usual outfit—a T-shirt, board shorts, and flip-flops. He stopped at a bike rack next to another surfer dressed almost exactly like him—his best friend, Devon.

  “Dude-man!” Brady greeted him.

  “Bro-hams!” Devon hollered.

  They hugged and then launched into a surfer handshake that involved a lot of palm slapping and finger wiggling.

  “Welcome back! How was Indonesia?” Brady asked.

  Devon’s eyes gleamed. “Oh, man. The swells were nectar. Primo pearls, my hombre. The waves were all like, ‘Buuma!’ And I’d be all like, ‘Braa!’ I was a one-man stoke machine all summer long.”

  Brady nodded. “Mondo.”

  “Beyond mondo, bro,” Devon said. “How was your summer? You spend some quality time carving up the tubes?”

  “I met a girl,” Brady replied.

  “No way! You trapped a honey?” Devon asked. “Is she a super-chill surf chick?”

  “Well…she surfs,” Brady replied. Mack was definitely not “super chill.”

  “So she’s one of us,” Devon said. “Laid back.”

  “She…lays back, on occasion,” Brady said, thinking about how busy Mack always was. “When she sleeps. Probably.”

  Devon slapped him on the back. “Excellent! Dude, I can’t wait to meet your beach bunny.”

  Brady cringed inside. Mack did not like to hear a girl called a beach bunny. Or a honey. Or a chick.

  “Yeah, just maybe don’t call her that, exactly….”

  While Brady and Devon headed into the school, Mack had been inside for an hour already, handing out fliers for the Oceanography Club.

  “Amy! Welcome back!” she cried, handing a flier to a passing girl. “Save the Beach dance this weekend. Buy a ticket, save a seal! Come on. Who doesn’t like seals? Well, sharks, maybe. But they don’t like anybody.”

  A boy walked by, and Mack thrust a flier into his hands. “Russel! Love the pants. Is that hemp? Very eco-conscious. The Oceanography Club’s throwing a dance. I know I can count on you to save the planet…no pressure.”

  Then she turned. “Tessa! We’ve got calc together. Mr. Bosco’s supposed to be awesome. And we’re throwing a dance.”

  Tessa looked at the flier. “It’s in the gym? Like in PE class?” she asked with a frown.

  “Yeah, but there’ll be a deejay and free punch. And a crazy smoke-making thingy,” Mack said, trying to make the dance sound cool.

  As Tessa walked away, a girl ran up to Mack and hugged her.

  “Alyssa!” Mack cried, excited to see her best friend.

  “Mack!” Alyssa cried.

  “How was your summer?” Mack asked.

  “Oh, beyond,” Alyssa replied. “Science camp was epic. The college tour was fab. And don’t even get me started on the student government conference.” Then she smiled. “I’m so glad you decided to come back this year.”

  “Me too,” Mack said. It was the best decision she’d ever made. Her aunt had wanted her to go to some fancy prep school, far away from the ocean. But Mack had bravely stood up to her and asked to finish high school at Windy Bluff.

  She handed a flier to Alyssa.

  “What’s this?” Alyssa asked.

  “I made a deal with myself,” Mack replied. “If I’m staying here, I’m doing things that are important to me. So I’m starting an oceanography club—which is pretty convenient, since our school’s literally on the ocean.”

  “Supercool. Sign me up,” Alyssa said. “Oh, and I’ve got news. Guess who I hung out with at the student government conference? Spencer Watkins. The literally cutest guy in school. And guess who he thinks the literally cutest girl in school is?” Alyssa elbowed Mack, who just blushed.

  “Mack!”

  Brady walked up with Devon and gave Mack a hug. She looked down at his feet.

  “You’re wearing flip-flops. To school,” she said, her voice flat.

  “I totally am,” Brady said proudly. “These are my fancy ones. Mack, this is my boy Devon. Devon, this is my girlfriend, Mack.”

  Devon and Alyssa looked equally shocked.

  “This is your girlfriend?” Devon asked.

  “This is your boyfriend?” Alyssa asked at the same time.

  “You seem surprised,” Brady and Mack said together.

  “Oh, no, bro,” Devon told Brady. “It’s just, you know, she has an actual backpack…that looks very full of books.”

  “And he doesn’t seem to have a bag at all,” Alyssa told Mack.

  “I do not have a bag. I do, however, have a pen,” Brady said, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a granola bar. “Huh. That is not a pen. That’s a granola bar that may or may not have spent some time in the ocean.”

  The bell rang.

  “I’ll see you later?” Mack asked Brady.

  “Maybe during break?” Brady suggested.

  “I can’t. Study group,” Mack replied.

  “Lunch?” Brady asked.

  “Ah, another study group.”

  “After school?” Brady tried.

  “Oceanography Club dance subcommittee meeting,” Mack told him.

  Brady was starting to feel annoyed. “How’s Easter for you?”

  “We’ve got Marine Biology, right? Third period? I’ll see you then,” Mack promised, and then she and Alyssa hurried off.

  “Mack seems supercool, bro,” Devon commented.

  “She is,” Brady agreed.

  “I mean, she actually went right to class when the bell rang. Which is…different. And she’s wearing socks. But to each their own.”

  When third period came around, Brady and Devon got to marine biology class and took seats in the back row. Brady sketched in a notebook while Devon stared, transfixed, into a fish tank.

  “How’s it floatin’, my pucker-faced little buddy?” Devon asked the fish.

  Then Brady heard Mack’s voice. “Hey!”

  He quickly shut the notebook as Mack and Alyssa walked in.

  “What are you working on?” Mack asked.

  Brady shrugged. “Nothing.”

  Mack frowned. Was Brady hidi
ng something?

  Then a tall, supercute boy walked into the class.

  “Mack!” he called out, waving.

  Alyssa walked up to him. “Oh, hi, Spencer. Hi,” she said awkwardly. “You look great. Like, really, really great. Super great. Perfect, even.”

  “Thanks, Alyssa, I appreciate that,” Spencer said, flashing a sincere smile. Then he turned to Mack. “I was hoping you’d be in this class. I heard you’ve started an oceanography club. I’m chairing the Environmental Studies Society.”

  “Really? I wanted to talk to you guys. I thought we could work together on shoreline watershed issues,” Mack said excitedly.

  Spencer nodded. “Yes! Maybe with an emphasis on habitat restoration and marine pollution.”

  “I love pollution!” Mack blurted out. “I mean, I don’t actually love pollution. But it’s an important issue.”

  “I’m also the head of a club,” Brady interjected. “The…Surf and Sand Club. Which primarily focuses on surfing. And sitting on the sand. I’m currently the only member.”

  Mack introduced them. “Spencer, this is Brady.”

  “I’ve seen you shred some waves,” Spencer told Brady. “You’re amazing. It’s great to meet you.”

  He reached out for a handshake, and Brady reached out for a fist bump.

  “It’s, uh, good to meet you, too,” Brady said.

  The awkward moment was interrupted by Devon, who introduced himself to Spencer.

  “We had PE together. We played that game with the ball and the mesh thing.”

  “Tennis?” Spencer guessed.

  “Yeah, that,” Devon replied. “You were much better than me!”

  “All right!” Mack interrupted. “Who’s ready to dive into some tide pool microbiology?”

  The bell rang, and the teacher started class. When it came time for lab work, Brady partnered with Devon, Mack partnered with Alyssa, and Spencer somehow ended up at the lab table with the two girls. Mack, Alyssa, and Spencer worked together smoothly and expertly.

  “Centrifuge? Check. Methylene blue dye, check. Cultured petri dish, check,” Alyssa checked off as they set up their gear. “Begin inoculation. Let’s dilute the solvents!”

  Brady and Mack, on the other hand, struggled with their equipment.

  “All right, so, here’s a blue tubey thing,” Devon said. “And a squeezy bulb. And some wet stuff.”