by Cindi Madsen
“It depends on the day. It’s not like I ask him.”
“Well, how am I supposed to get his attention if he’s at the river and I’m at the lake, or vice versa?”
Of course I hadn’t given a second thought to where Pecker might be training today, or if he even was. I hoped he wasn’t, and that he was wasting time playing football instead. Then again, it’d be more satisfying to beat him if he’d given his all. “Trust me, we’re going to get him to notice you. The training is only one part of my plan.”
She spun to face me, the green scenery blurring in the window behind her. “Oh, good, so you actually have a plan. I was starting to think you just needed a boating partner and I was a sucker.”
I froze, then did my best to smother any trace of guilt that might’ve crossed my features when she hit a little too close to the truth. I didn’t have a solid plan for her crazy scheme—or operation, as she’d chosen to call it. That’d require giving thought to it. I’d been far too focused on my relief over finding a temporary fill-in to train with. But I didn’t think Kate was a sucker. Now, thinking she had shitty taste in guys, on the other hand…
Realizing that her arched eyebrows must mean she wanted me to explain my grand plan, I turned down the radio as if I were about to say something super profound. “Remember how you’re supposed to be playing it cool? Stop stressing. Just leave the planning to me.”
There. That should buy me at least a night to come up with something.
“Playing it cool and being clueless are two different things,” she said. “In order to even relax enough to fake the blasé attitude that comes so naturally to you, I need to know there’s a plan.”
“Blasé attitude? That’s how you think about me?”
“Yeah. You’re like Mr. Cool, nothing gets to you.”
I wished I felt that way. I supposed at school all I cared about was getting good enough grades that my parents wouldn’t call me in for a meeting. School was easy enough. Home was where I walked on pins and needles.
“I’ve actually envied it a bit before,” Kate continued. “I remember two summers ago, when you were usually off by yourself in your boat, and it didn’t seem to bother you in the least. And that night when everyone told you they didn’t care about constellations so to stop pointing them out, you just shrugged it off and kept on stargazing.”
“Well, you were nice about it.” Honestly, it’d stung a little—how was I supposed to know not everyone found the universe over our heads fascinating? But Kate humored me for a few minutes, doing her best to act interested. “You even let me show you the constellation app I’d just downloaded.”
“I thought it was kind of cool. But I couldn’t say as much, because back then I had all that street cred.”
I laughed. “Sorry I almost screwed that up.”
“Clearly I didn’t hold on to it for very long. I think it was just the new girl allure. It wore off quickly.”
“I haven’t thought about that summer in a while.” All those nights when we were too young to drive anywhere and college was forever away, so we just ran around the lake, getting into what trouble we could with whoever we ran into. At the time, it was mostly Donovan and Amber, because they lived on either side of me. And Kate, because she was always at Amber’s. “You and Amber were connected at the hip back then.”
A flash of hurt crossed her features. “Things change.” She picked at a thread on her jeans. “In the end, I wasn’t cool enough for Amber—and apparently, I’m also too serious—and you got all tall and ripped and moved up to Mr. Cool and Confident.”
I turned down the road that’d take us to the dock nearest my house.
“I want to focus on how you said I’m ripped…”
She shot me a look.
“But I’m going to point out that I didn’t say you’re too serious. All I said was that your more serious nature was probably why Pecker hasn’t asked you out.”
“It’s not like he’d have any competition, though. Which brings me back to me.” She dropped her head in her hands. “Maybe this whole thing is stupid and I should just give up now.”
“Hey, no giving up.” I parked and looked across the cab of my truck at her, trying to find the right pep talk to give. I just didn’t have much experience in anything remotely close to this. In rowing, there were lots of cheesy sayings like “when you feel like you can no longer row with your arms, row with your heart” or “medals last longer than pain.”
None of those would work, so I went for the truth. “Most of the people we go to school with are idiots who need to be knocked over the head in order to pay attention to anything besides themselves. Me included.”
She glanced up, part of her hair still covering her face in a way that framed her eyes and lips.
Most of the girls at school had that cookie cutter type look, a lot of them pretty, but so similar they blended together. Kate stood out. Honestly, why weren’t guys asking her out? I’d considered it a few years ago, during that summer we’d spent time together. If I thought she was even a little interested, I might’ve. The night under the stars when she’d let me show her my constellation app, pity was the main vibe I got. Even when we’d ended up in my boat together by default, her attention was on Amber and Donovan in the other boat, and when I suggested veering in a different direction and leaving them behind for a while, she said we’d better not.
Now I knew her taste in guys ran toward the preppy super jock side, I knew I wasn’t even close to her type.
Oops. Got a bit distracted during my big speech. “But not to fear. You’ve got me on your side now, and idiots or not, we’ll snag their attention. Once we get even a few guys to take notice, the rest will follow, and then Mick will be as good as yours.”
A smile slowly worked its way across her lips, lighting up the rest of her features along the way. “You really think so?”
I nodded. “By the way, I like that shirt. The bright color suits you.” I’d like to think that was the least macho thing I’d ever said, but I did used to point out constellations and the mythology behind them, and then go into how stars were actually formed. Not to mention the inordinate amount of talking I used to do about Saturn’s beautiful rings that were composed of ice particles, rocky debris, and dust.
“Thanks,” she said, making me feel less self-conscious about doling out fashion compliments. “I figured if I’m going to do this, I might as well give it my all.”
I glanced out at the glassy water and the antsy feeling over getting out there rose to the surface again. “I hope you plan on putting that same dedication into our rowing sessions.”
She saluted me. “Aye, aye, Captain.”
I chuckled as I climbed out of the truck. After gathering the gear, I moved over to untie the boat. “If you think I look ripped, just wait till you see what I can do with these muscles.” Flashing her an over-the-top grin, I flexed like I was in one of those muscle-man competitions where they wore unspeakably small banana hammocks.
She shook her head as she fought back a smile. “Oh my gosh, that’s like an eight on the Kanye Douchebag Scale.”
Instead of arguing, I slid on my sunglasses and gave her a what-up nod. She lost the battle she’d been warring with her mouth and a killer smile broke free, filling me with a sense of accomplishment. Even though Kate was the type of girl who smiled often, I liked to think I got a bigger one than most. The way it lit up her entire face made me start calculating ways to keep it there permanently.
As I helped her into the boat, I vowed to give this whole operation thing more thought. Because Kate was a good person, and if she wanted to go to prom with a self-involved prick, I’d make sure it happened.
Chapter Six
Kate
My shoulders and arms ached, and my butt wasn’t doing so great, either, although the soreness there resulted more from the hard seat. At least the steady breeze wafting across the water kept me from turning into a sweaty mess, and the streaky white clouds made cool patterns i
n the vibrant blue sky.
One nice thing about starting school at the butt-crack of dawn was that we got out early enough to enjoy the sunny afternoons, but now I worried it meant Cooper planned on going until nightfall, and I so wasn’t going to make it.
“How long…” Row and a puff of air. “Do you usually…” Row, exhale. “Train for?”
“As long as possible,” Copper replied from his spot in front of me, not even short of breath, which made me think he could go for a really, really long time.
Whoa, that came out wrong. Even though it’d only been in my head, I felt the need to mentally add that I meant rowing. Probably because I’d already accidentally admitted to noticing he was ripped, and that was before I saw the way the muscles in his arms and back moved as he worked those oars. He’d made that joke about what he could do with his ripped-ness, but seeing it in action…Well, I thought playing football showed off guys’ muscles rather effectively, but rowing was a whole different ballgame.
Or a different not ball game, as it were. I snort-laughed at that thought, and then my breathing was off, and my oars slapped at the surface instead of gliding through the water like they needed to.
“We’re getting off pace,” Cooper said, the gruffness in his voice drifting over his shoulder.
“Yeah. Newsflash: I haven’t done this for a while, and it was never a timed, race kind of thing.” I gave up on pushing the oars through the water and hooked the ends of the handles under my arms, using them to rest on and catch my breath.
“Hmm.” Cooper glanced at his watch. The watch I wanted to throw in the water, because he reset it and shouted out times every few minutes that meant nothing to me, but he didn’t seem very happy with them, which made me feel like I was failing.
Who knew that someone who strolled around like they didn’t have a care in the world could transform into someone so serious so quickly? He should time that attitude flip, because it was fast enough to win any race.
“I hoped we’d make better time,” he said, and I fought the urge to flop onto the floor of the boat for a quick nap.
“Well, I hoped there’d be less rowing and more relaxing and getting a tan.”
“That would hardly help me win the race.”
With him facing forward, clearly he wasn’t getting that I was only kidding—I mean I did hope that, but I definitely didn’t expect it, and hello, if that were my main goal, I would’ve worn shorts. I didn’t like not seeing his expressions, either, although now that he’d turned into Mr. Serious, it was probably better that way. “I wasn’t talking strategy, I was talking wants, and it was supposed to be a joke.”
Cooper finally spun enough for me to see his face, and his eyebrows were all scrunched up. “So you want to keep rowing?”
“I…” I blew my breath out past my lips, not caring that it made me sound like a horse. “I don’t know how much longer I can go—I’m actually questioning if I can even make it back to the shore, or if I should just start praying for a strong wind to help you.”
Cooper’s all-business expression remained, and he glanced at the damn watch again.
I nudged his hip with the toe of my shoe. “I’ll get faster and stronger, okay? It just might take me a week or so.” I had a feeling it’d take longer than that, but I didn’t want to kill any possible optimism that still might be hanging in the air, struggling to hold on to the idea that this might be fun.
“At least you don’t weigh much,” Cooper said.
“Thanks?”
“Actually, that might throw me off. If I get used to it, and then Jaden hops in, the extra weight will make me slower. Then again, he rows more effectively because of his years of experience, so…” I could practically see the wheels turning in his head.
“If you want, I can work up a story problem and then solve it so you can calculate exactly how much my weight and less experience will factor into your and his usual time.” Strands of my hair swirled in front of my face and I swept them off, vowing to bring my backup hair-tie tomorrow. “Of course if I die of exhaustion out here, I won’t be able to do it, and then I won’t be able to help. Mathematically, or with training. Just saying.”
Finally Cooper snapped out of it, his features softening. “I guess I shouldn’t let you die of exhaustion the first day. I’ll wait until right before Jaden is fully healed.”
“How very noble of you.”
He tipped his head and his dimples flashed in his cheeks. And then I might’ve checked out the muscles in his arms again, but only for a second—like a fraction of a second, really.
“You know, I didn’t think this through,” I said. “I pictured us facing each other. It feels like I’m hanging out with myself.” Well, myself and a super strong back, but I’m not going to focus on that, because it’s weird and why do I keep thinking about it?
Switching mental gears, I focused on the non eye-candy aspect. “But then I’d just have some mean rowing coach barking orders into my face.”
Cooper arched an eyebrow. “‘Mean,’ huh?”
I nodded. “Now I know why I skipped this sport. It had nothing to do with my lack of coordination. It was the barked orders and pressure to row until your arms fall off.”
“Whatever. You’re way better at this than most girls. Most girls who don’t have any training, anyway.”
“Again, thanks?”
The boat wobbled as he spun around to face me. “No more hanging out with yourself. Or a coach who only wants to challenge you to score your best time.”
I rolled my eyes, making the gesture nice and big so he knew I wasn’t buying the no-pain, no-gain rhetoric.
Cooper gripped the oars and started rowing us back toward the shore.
I eyed the ends of my oars, but even the thought of grabbing them made my shoulders burn. “I’d offer to help, but my arms feel like noodles and I’m pretty sure you’re going as fast without me as you did with me.”
He gave a quick glance to his watch. “You help a little.” I shook my head, but he simply grinned. “And keeping track of our beats and pacing will help a lot as we figure out which marks we need to hit in order to beat our previous times.” With a jerk of his chin, he indicated the paper next to me, the one where I’d scribbled in the times and distance markers like he’d asked me to. “I want you to be as obsessive about that as you were about our history project—more so, if that’s even possible.”
“Oh, it is, and I’m going to make you regret saying that.”
“Bring it,” he said, his grin widening.
Maybe I should force him to sit facing the rear of the boat all the time, because the carefree fun Cooper was back. Intense, obsessed-with-time Cooper scared me a little, even while I liked seeing he was capable of that much passion in some aspects of his life.
The drive to improve his time was admirable, truly, but it also made me wonder what I’d gotten myself into with this deal.
I made a halfhearted attempt to help as I scanned the horizon. The sun now hung low in the sky, turning the shore opposite us into a contrast of dark, pine-tree-shaped spires and fiery sky. The stretched-out clouds glowed around the edges, and the oranges and golds reflected on the surface of the water. The boat and oars left ripples in the colored lake as we glided through it, leaving a trail someone could follow to find us, but only if they hurried, because it quickly faded.
With my exhaustion over having to constantly move through the water fading, a peaceful calm feeling overcame me. Maybe I occasionally missed Amber because it meant I rarely came to the lake anymore, which was especially hard when it’d felt like my second home that summer two years ago. Almost like my first home in some ways, because my real home at that time was bursting with sadness and hard to face.
The boat bumped the shore before I realized how close we were. I stood, planning on jumping onto the dirt and grass embankment so I could help pull the boat to shore. I nearly fell in the water but managed to land on a muddy spot instead, my shoes making a sloppy squishing soun
d.
When I grabbed the boat and tugged, it was heavier than I expected. My foot slipped, unable to get any traction in the slimy sludge, and I fell backward, all my momentum now working against me. As squishy as the mud was between my fingers, it sure was hard on the butt.
Cooper’s laughter came out sputtered at first, like he’d made an attempt to stop it, but then he laughed full out, the boat rocking as he folded over. I flicked mud at him, but it barely hit his legs, which was hardly satisfying.
Once he semi-recovered from his laughing fit, he took a large step and jumped onto the dry part of the shore. Show off. He tugged the boat up next to him, then extended a hand to me.
“I like how you took care of the boat first,” I grumbled as he grabbed my clean hand.
“Well, it doesn’t have feet. It’s hardly fair to expect it to climb onto the shore.” His implication was clear—he expected me to have that ability. He yanked me up, and I nearly bumped into him. My hands automatically went to his waist.
He gripped my upper arms. “Whoa. You steady?”
Suddenly, I didn’t feel steady at all. My stomach did a sommersault, and my skin tingled underneath his large, warm hands.
I must just be lightheaded from standing up so fast—that was it. I shook off the momentary dizziness, and glanced down. My muddy hand left a big smear of brown across his T-shirt and the top of his jeans. “Oh shoot, I got your clothes messy.”
He shrugged and his voice came out low. “I don’t mind getting dirty.”
My gaze shot to his. Apparently I was the one with muddy hands and dirty thoughts, but then dawning crossed his features.
“You thought I was giving you some line, didn’t you?”
I shook my head. “No. Of course not.”
“Mmm-hm. Guess you’re not quite as serious as I thought.” He tipped his head toward his truck. “C’mon. Let’s get you home before the rest of your thoughts drift into the gutter and you offend my delicate sensibilities.”
I opened my mouth to tell him he was the one who put them there, but luckily I stopped myself just in time. No way that wouldn’t come out sounding inappropriate, and then he’d get the wrong idea and think I was crushing on him or something and run in the other direction.