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Rosalinde instead of 121.) And now the friendly visitors to Sandpiper Beach will learn all about them on their informative and entertaining walking tour today. Yippy skippy.
    Which reminds me—time for my hourly text to Lauren. In addition to Operation Get a Boyfriend, I’m also on Operation Get Lauren to Join RSVP. I figure if I annoy her enough, she’ll give in. And what’s more annoying than your BFF texting you every single hour—even at night? When my alarm went off at three a.m., I sent her a text that said, “Lo, join us or ghoisdgihskd,” because my fingers hit the wrong buttons and I was too asleep to really notice. But whatever. I got my point across.
    Merlin says u have 2 join RSVP. Or he’ll find u & give u smooshy slobbery fish kisses. I hit send.
    No response. When I started my campaign yesterday afternoon, she’d protest after every text I sent and say she couldn’t join because of the STAs or whatever. Then she just sent texts that said, Shut up, B. :) Today she hasn’t responded at all.
    I’m totally wearing her down.
    I stuff my phone somewhere in the costume. I’ll probably never find it again. No one’s here yet. It’s just me and good ol’ Merlin. It’s not like I’d ever admit this out loud or anything, but sometimes I bounce song ideas off of the fishy-face marlin, and I’m thinking that might be exactly the thing to snap me out of my funk when Mrs. O’Malleyrounds the other side of the brass fish.
    â€œOh, Rebecca, it’s you. I rather hoped we’d have Pete for today’s tour.”
    Um, hello. Rude much? And what’s cranky old Mrs. O’Malley doing taking a tour meant for visi— Wait, wait, wait. Did she say “we”?
    Mrs. O’Malley’s face breaks into a smile at the sight of someone behind me and I whirl around to spot Ryan crossing the square in our direction, a dripping ice-cream cone in one hand.
    Bye-bye, funk!
    When he sees me next to Mrs. O’Malley, he trips a little on one of the cobblestones. Omigosh, omigosh omigosh. Do I make him nervous? Eep!
    Orrrrr, it could be the Ahoy-there-mateys look I’m rocking. I shiver (me timbers) even though it’s June. In North Carolina.
    Well, whatever. I can’t help how I’m dressed. I’m just going to have to wow him with my sparkling personality instead. I turn a giant smile on Mrs. O’Malley. “I’m so glad you’re taking the tour today, ma’am.”
    She looks a lot surprised. What? It’s not like I’ve never called her “ma’am” before. Probably.
    â€œWell, Rebecca, I thought it might be good formy great-nephew to have a sense of the history of our little town, seeing as he’ll be spending the summer with us.”
    With us . Yes, please.
    Ryan arrives at my side and I beam up at him. His smile seems more polite than friendly, but I’ll bet it’s just because he doesn’t want to flirt in front of his great-aunt. Which is soo thoughtful of him. I totally respect that.
    â€œNice parrot,” he says.
    Nice parrot. Omigosh, could he be any cuter and wittier? I am going to make such beautiful music out of our relationship. Obviously, it will include a verse with “Nice Parrot.” What rhymes with “parrot”? “Wear it?” “Spare it?” “Carrot?”
    Polly’s claws don’t seem nearly as razor-bladey as they did a minute ago. In fact, I can barely feel them. Let’s get this tour STARTED!
    Mrs. O’Malley tells Ryan the story of Merlin the fish, and I don’t even correct her when she gets the date and the name of the fisherman who caught him slightly wrong. Lauren could learn a thing or two from me. If Ryan can be respectful of his elders, so can I.
    A family with sleeping toddler twins in a stroller join us, and then a stylish woman with a scarf and asketchpad shows up and says my dad told her to tell me