by Sarah Dessen
Sure. Because that was what always happened when we went sailing. I bit this thought back, though, as we stepped outside. The heat was like a thick wall, even with the chill of the A/C still on my skin, and I immediately dug in my bag for the baseball hat I’d brought, pulling it down to shade my face.
“Great day to be on the water,” he announced, leading me down a side set of stairs to the pool area. The beach was just beyond, a girl in a white Club shirt sitting in the lifeguard chair, swinging a whistle on a chain. The sand was dotted with beachgoers, some with their chairs in groups, kids digging with shovels and pails nearby, others alone, soaking up the sun. A waiter moved through them with a tray in hand, taking orders. “The dock is just this way, I think . . . yes. Look, that’s ours!”
I followed his finger, which was pointing at a small sailboat bobbing just off to one side. Staring at it, I felt a nervousness not unlike what I felt when I had to drive, a mix of dread and fear.
“Great,” I said as another white-shirted Club worker came around from behind the sail, wiping his hands on his shorts. It was Blake, not that I had time to react, as in the next moment my dad was walking right up him.
“I think that’s for us,” he said, nodding at the boat. “Payne?”
“That’s right,” Blake replied, hopping onto the dock. “All ready for you as promised. Do you need a quick lesson?”
“No, no,” my dad said as I pulled my hat down a bit farther. “I know what I’m doing. Actually taught sailing here when I was your age.”
“Really?” Blake asked. “That’s cool. Did you live on Campus?”
“Room fourteen,” my dad told him proudly. “All four years. Could still find my name on the wall, I bet, if I looked. Matthew Payne.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Blake.” He stuck out his hand and they shook while I stood off to one side, willing myself to be invisible. “I’ve left a card with our number here at the docks and a backup Club one, just in case you run into any trouble.”
“Hopefully not,” my dad said. “We’re just doing an easy sail. My daughter, Emma, here isn’t exactly a fan.”
Blake gave me a quick glance, nodding, then turned back to the boat. A beat later, though, he looked at me again. My hat had covered my face some, but not enough. Damn. “Saylor? Is that you?”
My dad, surprised, looked at me as well. “You guys know each other?”
Silence as neither one of us confirmed or denied this. Finally I said, “He’s friends with Bailey.”
“Oh, right,” my dad said, as if I’d mentioned this before, which I hadn’t. “Small world. Oh, there’s Tracy.”
With that, he was walking down the dock to the Club, where I could now see my stepmother emerging, a basket hooked over one arm. Blake and I both watched him go, if only to not look at each other.
“So,” he said finally. “Um . . . how have you been?”
“You mean since you guys ditched us for Club Prom?”
He sighed. “Hey, I showed up. Remember?”
“Did you really expect me to leave Bailey, too, and come with you?”
“I don’t know!” He lowered his voice, stepping closer to me. “Look, what Colin does is his thing. Don’t hold it against me. What was I supposed to do?”
“Well,” I said as a motorboat approached, puttering, “you could have been honest with me so I could be honest with her. That would have been a start.”
“He’s my best friend,” he said. “And it was a crap situation. I’m sorry. What can I do to make it up to you?”
“Tell him to leave Bailey alone. It’s not cool that he’s calling her.”
“I know.” He slid his hands in his pockets. “But again, that’s him. Anything else?”
I considered this, looking at the boat beside us, sails still fluttering. “Declare this thing unseaworthy so I don’t have to go sailing?”
He cocked his head to the side. “It’s a lake, though. Not a sea.”
“Unlakeworthy, then,” I said, giving him a smile. “Help a girl out.”
“The thing is, I’m kind of here to help the guests get on the water, not hinder them,” he said. “Sorry.”
I shrugged. “It’s okay.”
“What about dinner?” he asked. “Tonight. Wherever you want, on me.”
Suddenly I’d gone from no plans to being in high demand. But again, he was not the person I was hoping would be doing the asking. “I can’t,” I said. “I have a party to go to.”
“For that girl Taylor?”
“You know about that?”
He nodded. “Rachel and Hannah are invited, too. Said we could come along.”
“Bailey will be there,” I warned him.
“I know. So does Colin. I think that’s why he’s going.” He sighed again. “Let me give you a ride, at least?”
I bit my lip a second, considering this. Blake wasn’t inherently a bad guy. As he’d said, he had showed up for Club Prom.
“Okay,” I said, and he grinned so quickly I was immediately angry at myself for making yet another thing simple for him. “A ride. But if Colin’s along, I’m out.”
“He won’t be,” he promised. “He’s covering the last couple of hours of a valet shift as a favor to someone. I’ll text you when I get off work?”
I nodded, just as my dad and Tracy stepped back onto the dock, now carrying the basket. “Okay.”
“Great,” he said. “And have fun out there. Just remember the first rule of sailing: duck when they tell you to.”
“Sounds like good advice for life in general,” I cracked.
“You’re funny,” he told me, as if he’d forgotten this. He turned to Tracy, holding out a hand. “Ready to board?”
She climbed on, stepping down by the rudder, and I followed without an assist. My dad handed over the basket, which Tracy took and put in the small covered cargo area while he jumped on as well.
“Feels so small after weeks on Artemis,” he said, gathering up the mainsheet as I found a seat on one of the flat cushioned areas. To me he added, “That was the boat we had in Athens. Forty-two-footer, slept six.”
“This is nice, too, though,” Tracy said, as if the boat might be offended. “Shall I go raise the front sail?”
“Yep,” my dad replied, busy futzing with the rudder. “I’ll get this one.”
With that, they were in motion, her jumping up to walk down the boat’s deck to the bow while he pulled the mainsail the rest of the way up. All around me, things were luffing, lines clanking, the side of the boat thumping against the dock with the waves. Even worse, over it all, I could hear my dad muttering, something he always did while sailing. I pulled my legs to my chest, trying to get small and out of the way, and looked out on the water.
“About ready?” Blake, up on the dock, asked.
“One second,” my dad said from the center of the sunken part of the deck, right in front of me. “I’m having trouble with this centerboard.”
“You just pull straight up and push down.”
“I’m doing that,” my dad replied. “But it won’t—”
“Let me try,” Tracy suggested, jumping down from the upper deck to where he was. “I think you just—”
“I’ve got it,” he said, but she reached in anyway, and then he was grumbling again, both their hands on it, before it fell into the slot with a bang. “See? I had it. You have to let me do things if I say I am doing them.”
“I would have,” Tracy replied cheerfully, “but it seemed like you needed another pair of hands.”
My dad grumbled again. Then to Blake he said, “Okay, push us off. We’re ready.”
“Yes sir,” Blake said, handing the line to Tracy, who shot me a smile. At least one of us was having fun. “Enjoy the lake!”
And with that, we were drifting toward the swimming area, the sails still ruffling, as my dad got himself by the rudder. Blake, on the dock, gave us an enthusiastic wave.
“All right,” my dad said as we came close to bumping a f
loat shaped like a huge toucan. He grabbed the mainsheet, pulling it tight, pushing the rudder over at the same time. “Ready about, hard a lee!”
Tracy bent her head down. I did not until the boom came swinging right for my face. We were now moving away from the shore at a fast clip, the sails suddenly full and creaking.
“Oh, yeah,” my dad said, nodding up at the mast. “Feel that speed?”
“Watch out for the buoys,” Tracy called out. “There’s one right up here to starboard.”
“I see it.” My dad eased the rudder a bit to the right. To me he said, “Great, right? You can go up to the bowsprit if you want a better view.”
“No thanks,” I said.
“Keep the buoy on your right,” Tracy told him. “There’s a red one to port, about a hundred feet.”
As we passed it, though, the traffic of swimmers and other boats began to clear out, leaving us an open path ahead. The water was glittering, sun bouncing off it, and I let a hand dangle in as waves peeled off the sides. I had to admit it was nice, if you liked that sort of thing.
My dad pulled the mainsheet even tighter, leaning back as my side of the boat lifted up a bit. “Now we’re cooking with grease! Emma, pull up that centerboard.”
“What?” I asked.
“The centerboard.” He pointed. “Grab it with both hands and pull straight up.”
I scrambled over, grabbing for the centerboard handle. It didn’t budge. Meanwhile, we were now moving what felt like even faster, the wind whipping in my ears.
“Pull straight up,” he repeated.
“I am!” I replied, doing just that. Tracy got to her feet, coming over to join me. “It’s stuck!”
“She’s right,” Tracy reported, after trying herself. “Maybe if we wiggle it again . . .”
“Emma, take the rudder and this mainsheet,” he directed me. Which was even worse. Now I was steering?
“But—” I said.
“Take it.” He stood, holding it out to me, and I grabbed it, moving into the spot where he’d been sitting, the mainsheet clutched in one hand. “Just steer us toward the other side, keeping all buoys on your left.”
“Or right, if it’s red,” Tracy added.
“Is this thing broken?” my dad asked, his face flushed from his efforts to budge the centerboard. Tracy, trying to help him, pulled from the other side. Meanwhile, we were flying across the water, the sails I was holding full to the point of straining. It was scary enough even before I saw the Sunfish.
It was small, with an orange sail that had a smiley face on it. A guy and a kid, both in life vests, were sitting on it, staring at us openmouthed as we raced toward them.
“Um, Dad?” I said.
“Just keep us pointed in the direction I told you.”
“But—”
Then, Tracy saw the Sunfish. “Emma! Come about!”
“What?” I said. On the Sunfish, the kid’s eyes were wide, his dad now scrambling to get out of the way.
“Wait, what?” my dad said quizzically. Then he looked up. “COME ABOUT!”
But I didn’t know how to do that. I didn’t even really know what the centerboard was. And now we were almost at the Sunfish.
“Move!” my dad yelled. I did, jumping out of the way as he grabbed the rudder, pushing it away from us, hard. There was a jerk and the boom came swinging around: this time, I ducked. The mainsheet, caught on a knob between my dad and the mast, was pulled so tight I could see it straining. As I watched, helpless, as my dad tried to loosen it, we dipped even farther to the side, then farther still.
We’re capsizing, I thought, panicked, but it was all happening so slowly it was surreal: the boat tilting, scooping up water, the sails all flapping, their lines thwacking.
“MAYDAY!” screamed the kid on the Sunfish, which didn’t really help anything.
“Hold on!” my dad yelled. “I’m getting her upright. Find life jackets!”
Tracy dove into the cargo hold, returning seconds later with three orange life preservers. As she handed me one, my dad cursing behind her, she said evenly, “Everything’s fine.”
Fine, I repeated to myself as I pulled it over my head, tightening the straps. We were upright again, although water was inside the boat now, rushing over my feet. That couldn’t be good.
“Matthew?” Tracy asked. “Should I call someone?”
“Just give me a second,” he said, wiggling the centerboard, which finally came loose. “There. Okay. Now, let me just—shit, did we take in all this water?”
That wasn’t encouraging. Trying not to panic, I turned, orienting myself with the shore by finding Mimi’s again. There it was. There was the boat. And there were Bailey and Gordon, walking down the dock toward it. I didn’t even think. I just yelled.
“BAILEY!”
At the sound of my voice, she turned her head, scanning the lake, then put a hand over her eyes.
“OVER HERE!” I yelled. “HELP!”
“Emma,” my dad said sternly. “You never yell that on a boat unless it’s an emergency.”
“Matthew,” Tracy said delicately, “there is quite a bit of water here.”
She was right. What I’d thought had only been a bit splashing around my toes was now up to my ankles. And we had a broken centerboard. But sure, yes, let’s take our time asking for a hand.
Bailey was still looking in our direction, although clearly not sure what we needed. So I put my hands over my head, waving them wildly, the international sign for WE NEED RESCUING. She jumped into the boat, Gordon climbing in after her, and started the outboard.
“This is ridiculous,” my dad said, kicking around the water at his feet as he went back to the rudder. “Who puts a useless knob right where it will catch the mainsheet?”
“Someone,” Tracy said, still so calm. I don’t know what we would have done without her. “I’m going to call the Club.”
“You don’t have to,” I said. “Bailey’s coming.”
“Who?” my dad asked.
I pointed to where she was right then pulling away from the dock, already coming toward us. Gordon was in the bow.
“What happened?” she yelled once closer. Gordon waved excitedly.
“Just took in a little water,” my dad replied.
“And broke the centerboard,” Tracy added.
“Everyone have a life jacket?” Bailey asked, circling now to come up our other side. I gave her a thumbs-up. “Good. You want a tow back to the Club?”
“Just to that raft,” Tracy replied as my dad grumbled something. “If you don’t mind.”
“Sure,” she said. “Saylor. Throw me that.”
She did another pass, coming up close, and I tossed her the line. Quickly, she tied it to the back of her motorboat, tugging to make sure it was tight.
“If you can pull up the centerboard, do it,” she hollered as she took the motor again. “Less resistance. It’ll be slow no matter what, though.”
Personally, I didn’t care. We could have been barely moving at all and it still would have been an improvement on the outing so far. My dad, however, looked glum as she started to the raft, tugging us slowly behind.
“We really could have just bailed out the boat on our own,” he told Tracy. “We were fine.”
“I know.” She reached out, patting his leg. “But Emma was scared. This is better.”
“I’m going to try to get you as close as I can!” Bailey yelled then from the motorboat. “Then I’ll untie you so you can drift up alongside.”
“Great,” Tracy said. “Thank you!”
Bailey nodded, then turned back to face forward as we approached the raft. She and Gordon went just a bit past it, then cut the engine. A moment later, we floated right up. Tracy grabbed hold, jumping out, as Bailey undid our line, throwing it to her. Within seconds she had us tied up to a post, safe now. Scrambling down off the bow, I was never happier to feel deck planks beneath my feet. My dad, however, stayed on the boat, beginning to bail with a scoop he’d fo
und in the cargo hold.
“Whew,” Tracy said as Bailey came back around, pulling up to the other side. “That was exciting.”
“That’s one word for it,” I said.
As soon as she could, Gordon hopped out as well, running over to give me a hug. I could feel her glasses poking my stomach.
“Hey,” I said, smoothing a hand over her head. “How are you?”
“Good,” she replied, into my shirt. “When are you coming back to Mimi’s?”
This I didn’t answer, although I saw Tracy heard it as well. Bailey, having tied up her own boat, now joined us. “What happened out there?”
“Combination of factors,” Tracy told her. “You are a godsend, by the way. I’m Tracy.”
“My stepmother,” I said to Bailey. “Tracy, this is Bailey. And that’s my dad.”
“Hi,” Bailey called out.
My dad lifted a hand in a wave, nodding at her. He looked sheepish, almost embarrassed, and I found myself both angry and sorry for him at the same time. God, I hated sailing.
“So,” Bailey said as Tracy went over to join my dad. “Now you have to go to that party with me, right?”
“Because you gave us a tow?”
“Because I saved you. You owe me your life now.” I just looked at her. “What? That’s how this works!”
“I subscribe to none of these boat rules,” I told her. “That said, I do thank you for the help. But I’d say that we’re actually even. You owed me, and now you paid up.”
“I owed you? How do you figure?”
“Because you didn’t even care I was leaving!” I said. “It was all about Colin this, and Colin that, and how you could use me to get to him. You didn’t even say goodbye.”
“You snuck out before the sun was even up!”
“Not true,” I said flatly, and she sighed, rolling her eyes. “You could have found me. We’re supposed to be friends.”
“No,” she said. “We’re cousins.”
Now I was exasperated. “That’s different?”
“Of course it is!” She pushed her hair back from her face. “Look, Saylor. The first time we met, neither of us remembered. The second, you were about to get your ass kicked. We never had formalities, you and I. We’re blood. It’s messy. But we don’t need goodbyes, because we’re going to be stuck with each other forever. That’s what family is.”