by Kasie West
“Not the lake. Just the water.”
He laughed. “Isn’t that the same thing?”
I ran my hand over the handlebar of the WaveRunner and shrugged. It was hard for me to admit there was any aspect of the lake that I didn’t love.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing. I just …” I always said too much around him. He was too easy to talk to. “Nothing. Have you caught anything yet?” I asked, noting the red ice chest in his boat.
His dark eyes danced. “That is a question you are never supposed to ask a fisherman.”
“So, no.”
“No.” He sighed.
“Is this your boat?”
“I saved up six months for this piece of garbage and yes, it’s all mine.”
“I’m impressed, piece of garbage or not. That’s a lot of time saving for something. I should save money. Instead I spend it all on gas.”
“Gas?”
I patted the WaveRunner. “Yes, I have a problem. Maybe now that fall is coming and I won’t go out on the lake as much, I can save up. But I mostly work during the summer. It’s ironic. The only time I would have extra money is the time I don’t work.”
“You don’t do snow sports?” Diego asked. “Skiing or snowmobiling or … I don’t know, what is that sport where you tie baskets to your shoes?”
“That’s not a thing, but I don’t do any of the above. I need to find some winter hobbies, I guess.” I gave his boat a once-over. She actually wasn’t as bad as he claimed. She was silver and well maintained. I could tell he took pride in owning her. “What’s her name?” I asked.
“I haven’t named her yet. I need to.”
“Yes, you do. Every boat deserves a name. Might I suggest Forest Monster? Then she might actually catch some fish. She’s out early enough.”
“Funny.”
“I try.”
He looked past me to the lake. “I’m surprised Alana isn’t with you this morning. You two are always together.” He wished Alana were here. That was cute.
“She’s sleeping, which is what I’d rather be doing. Only fishermen and moon worshippers are up at this hour. And we know we can’t trust either of them.”
“For sure.”
I powered on my WaveRunner. “I guess I better get back to work.”
“Good luck,” he said.
It was nice to see Diego out on the lake, like he actually belonged there. Like it wasn’t foreign to him. Like it was a destination only thirty minutes away, and not an eternity away like so many people in Oak Court seemed to think. Diego would fit in well with the lake stock. I’d let Alana know.
“Have you seen Frank?” I came to a breathless stop at Alana’s locker Monday morning. I’d run from my car to Frank’s locker and now to hers in less than five minutes.
“What?” Alana asked, turning around with books in her arms.
“Frank. Do you know where he’d be right now?”
“He’s not here today. Remember? Soccer tournament.”
“Oh. Right.” I let my anger melt away now that I knew I couldn’t confront him.
“Why are you looking for Frank?”
“I want to talk to him about the marina incident.” I’d told Alana in hurried texts about what had happened over the weekend but didn’t tell her who I thought was responsible. Maybe because I wasn’t willing to commit to it until I confronted him. “When did he leave for the tournament?”
“Today. But wait, you think Frank did that?”
“Yes.”
“It doesn’t sound like him.”
“He’s upping his game.”
“Huh. If it was him, I’ll find out.”
“Me too.”
She shut her locker. She was wearing an oversize gray hoodie I’d never seen on her before.
“Is that new?”
She smiled. “It’s Diego’s.”
“Really?”
“He let me wear it Friday night after we left your house.”
“And you incorporated it into your wardrobe?” I didn’t know why this seemed to bother me.
“I’ll give it back to him. But this is Flirting 101: Let a boy see you wearing his clothes.”
“Because then he associates you with his possessions?”
She shook her head and shoved my arm. “No. Because he thinks you look cute with his stuff draped around you.” She motioned her thumb to the side. “Come on. Let’s get to class.”
I’d come early to confront Frank, so we still had some time before the bell rang. “I’ll meet you there. I need to go to my locker.”
“I’ll come with you.”
We navigated the halls and came to a stop at my locker. I dug below a stack of papers and grabbed my history book.
“Who even needs books for class?” a voice behind me said.
I let out a small yelp and my history book fell to the floor with a slap.
Diego smiled but then bit his lip, looking apologetic. “Sorry, I didn’t think talking in a loud hallway could scare someone.”
“She can be jumpy,” Alana said.
“Noted.”
Alana pulled at the sleeves of the hoodie she wore—Diego’s hoodie—as if to draw attention to it. “What’s up with the golf club?” she asked him.
I hadn’t even noticed he was holding a golf club until she’d pointed it out. He moved it up onto his shoulder like a baseball bat.
“Do you golf?” Alana asked.
He took it off his shoulder and held it out as if evaluating it. “Yes and no.”
“How is that a real answer?” I asked.
“Well, I don’t golf, but I like to go to driving ranges sometimes. And Garrett Wilson bet me that I couldn’t hit a golf ball through the goalposts from that big hill behind the stadium, so I did what had to be done.”
“What had to be done?” I asked, straight-faced.
Alana laughed. “He had to hit a golf ball through the goalposts. How far do you think that is, anyway?”
“Probably like two hundred yards … give or take,” he said.
“I’m guessing more take than give,” I said.
He chuckled.
“So did you?” I asked.
“Wow,” he said, gripping his chest. “You have no faith in me.”
“Geez, Kate,” Alana said.
“Do I have to prove it to you, too?” he asked.
“I just know that wouldn’t be easy.”
Diego narrowed his eyes, a smirk on his lips.
Alana squeezed my arm. “There’s Bennett. I have to give him some notes from Math. I’ll see you in class.” She waved to Diego and then was gone. I couldn’t tell if this was part of her strategy again. Now that she’d gone on an official date with him (even if it was only to my house) and was wearing his hoodie, was she trying to show him that she had other options?
Diego stared after her, an unreadable expression on his face. Sometimes I wasn’t so sure about Alana’s strategies.
I turned back to my locker to get my history book but couldn’t find it anywhere.
“It fell,” Diego said.
“Oh, right.” I had forgotten I’d dropped it when he first arrived. I reached down to grab it off the floor. When I stood, my temple whacked into the corner of my locker.
Pain instantly radiated from the point of contact. I threw a hand over it and winced.
“Are you okay?” Diego asked, stepping closer.
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“How bad is it?”
“Not bad. Just a little bumped.”
“Can I see it?”
I kept my hand at my temple, wondering if it was bleeding. I couldn’t feel any moisture. Diego reached up and lightly grabbed my wrist, moving my hand away from my face.
After inspecting it for a moment, he said, “Looks like you’ll live.”
“Thanks, doctor.”
He met my eyes, ignoring my joke. “I’m sorry.”
I shrugged it off, embarrassed at the attenti
on.
Still holding loosely on to my wrist, he used his free hand to draw a V on my temple with his finger. “Valor. Do you know that word?”
“Yes … why?”
“We have that word in Spanish, too. When I used to get hurt, my mom would trace that word on my arm or my head or my back. It’s pronounced a little different but it means the same thing in Spanish as it does in English. ‘Valor. Courage.’ ”
I laughed a little. “Are you saying I’m courageous after my near death experience with the locker?”
“Well, it’s a noun, not an adjective. So it’s more like courage is being given to you.”
“Oh, so you’re saying I’m not brave and need some.”
He smiled and finished spelling out the word on my temple.
My skin seemed to heat up with each letter.
He shrugged. “It works better on seven-year-olds.”
“It worked on you?” I asked.
“Always.”
I could’ve sworn it was working on me, too. My head felt perfect. The bell rang.
He released my wrist. “I’ll see you around, Kate.”
“Yes, see you around,” I said.
He left and it took me a minute to remember what I was doing. I looked down at the history book I still held, shook my head, and shoved the texbook in my backpack.
“Kate!” I heard my name being called, and for one second, I thought it was Alana. Had she seen that whole exchange? Why had Diego done that? Because I’d just whacked my head on a locker. Diego was just being nice. He was nice.
I looked around but didn’t catch sight of Alana. Seconds later, Liza was pulling on my backpack. She was breathless and dragging a red-haired girl behind her by the arm.
“Kate. Wait up.”
I slowed down. “Hi, my cousin, do you not get enough of me at home?” I said.
“This is Chloe,” Liza panted. “She wanted to meet you.”
Liza’s friend had a huge smile on her face and was looking at me like I’d just handed her a hundred dollars. “Hi,” she said.
“Um … hi?” I gave Liza a questioning look.
“She’s a fan of yours,” Liza said to clarify, but that didn’t help at all.
“What?” I asked.
“The podcast,” Liza said, drawing out the words.
“You’re a fan of the podcast?” I asked Chloe.
“You, in particular,” Liza said. “She thinks you’re funny.”
“If I’m funny without trying to be, does that still make me funny?”
Chloe laughed. “I really liked your advice about Mrs. Pomroy. Someone asked for study guides in class and it helped.”
“Mrs. Pomroy? Oh! That wasn’t about her, it was about Mr.…” I stopped myself, realizing the offending teacher’s name had been edited out.
“Well, either way,” Chloe said, “it helped our class, too.”
Liza looked like a proud mother when she said, “See, your advice helps people.”
“That’s great,” I said. “Nice to meet you, Chloe.”
Chloe beamed at me, as if I were a real celebrity. Then the girls scurried off together. I watched them go, then turned to head to History class. This morning had been weird.
Are you coming to Liza’s tutoring session today? I texted Alana after school, once I was home.
Alana: I’ll meet you over there.
Before I left to go to Liza’s house, I stopped at Max’s bedroom door and knocked twice.
There was a mumbled reply that I interpreted as “Come in,” so I opened the door. Max sat at his desk, drawing in a sketchpad.
“Hey, I’m leaving,” I said.
“Okay,” he answered without looking up.
“Do you want to come with me?”
“Nope.”
“You have a lot to say today,” I said. He’d been quiet on the ride home, too.
“Yep.”
I picked up the nearest article of clothing on his floor, a green Harry Potter shirt, wadded it up, and threw it at the back of his head. Max threw it back. It landed on the floor in front of me, and I noticed it was ripped at the collar.
“What happened to your shirt?” I asked.
“It caught on a fence.”
“What fence?”
“The one around the baseball field.”
“Fences are just jumping out and grabbing you these days?”
“I took a shortcut through the baseball field after school and the gate was locked. I had to climb it.”
“Wow. Look at you being all athletic.”
He flexed his biceps, and then shooed me away.
I pulled the door closed and walked next door to my aunt’s house. I found Liza in her bedroom sliding her feet into a pair of ballet flats. The first thing she said to me was, “You’re totally famous now.”
“Because one of your friends thinks I’m cool?”
“It’s more people than thought you were cool yesterday.”
“You’re a brat.” I looked her up and down, realizing she’d changed her outfit since getting home from school. “Are you dressed up for Tommy?” I teased.
“This isn’t dressed up. I was just gross from school.” She picked up her backpack. “You ready to take me?” She was looking at my outfit now, like she thought I should go change.
I glanced down at my jeans, two-toned T-shirt, and Chucks. “What?”
“Nothing,” she said. “Let’s go.”
When we walked through the front door of the tutoring center, Diego was at the front desk.
“Do you work here every day?” I asked him.
“Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays.”
Liza knew the routine now and walked past Diego to meet Tommy at the back tables.
The phone rang and Diego answered it, so I sat down in the waiting area. This time I’d brought my backpack and homework, but it didn’t stop me from checking out the magazines. There was another new one: Hobbies, it was called. I don’t know why I felt the need to note the magazines every time I came in now, but because I’d studied them so closely the first time, the new ones were easy to recognize.
Diego must’ve noticed me looking, too, because when he hung up the phone he said, “Do you read that one?”
“Hobbies? No. But it looks interesting.” I dug into my backpack and retrieved my Math homework for the day. “Alana would like it.”
Speaking of Alana, I looked over my shoulder. Where was she?
“Oh yeah?” he asked. “Why?”
“Because she’s good at everything. Introduce the girl to a new hobby and she masters it.” I picked up the magazine, set it on top of my Math book, and flipped it open to a random page. “Knitting. See, I bet she’d be great at that.” The article in front of me reported on the projects an eighty-year-old woman had knitted over her lifetime. The list was over five hundred projects long. “She once knitted a sweater for a baby penguin at a zoo.”
“Alana did?”
“Oh. No, sorry. There’s an article about this woman and her lifetime of knitting. She did a sweater for a baby penguin. How awesome is that?” I flipped through more pages, then shut the magazine and put it back on the pile.
“She likes to cook, right?” Diego asked, leaning his elbows on the counter.
“I’m not sure; the article only highlighted her knitting. There’s also a story of a man who knows over a hundred bird calls.”
“I mean Alana.”
He was asking about Alana again. That was a good sign.
“Yes! She does. She has all these Hawaiian recipes because, as you probably know, she grew up in Hawaii.”
“I’d heard. When did she move here?”
“In the seventh grade. That’s when we met. You’d think I would have been the one to take her in, show her around because she was the new one. But it’s always been the opposite.”
“Really?” Diego asked.
The door to the center opened with a ring of the bell. I looked over my shoulder, ready to welcome
Alana, but it wasn’t her. It was a lady who looked to be in her late twenties, followed by two kids I recognized—Camilla and Samuel. Diego’s niece and nephew.
“Monica, I can’t. I’m at work,” Diego said by way of greeting.
“I know. Believe me, I know,” the woman said, “but when you’re at home, Mom and Dad won’t let you help. It’s all about your perfect schedule.”
He clenched his jaw. I wasn’t sure if he was annoyed by her request or by what she had said about his parents.
“I wouldn’t ask if I weren’t desperate,” Monica continued. “I can’t very well take them to an interview. Two hours. Tops. Please, Diego.” She clasped her hands together and placed them on the counter in a plea.
“Are you trying to get me fired?”
“If your boss comes in, you can say they’re clients.”
“But my boss knows they’re my niece and nephew. Remember? She’s met them before. Last time you did this.”
“Your boss won’t come in. Two hours.” Monica didn’t give Diego a chance to say no again. She kissed her kids on the cheeks, then left quickly.
“My sister, ladies and gentlemen,” Diego said as if the room were full of people. His frustrated expression quickly turned to a smile when the kids looked up at him. “Hey, guys,” he said. “Did you bring homework?”
They nodded.
“Samuel, Camilla, you remember Kate,” Diego said.
I waved, then he ushered them toward the back, pausing where he was for a moment while they ran ahead.
“You’re a good uncle … and brother,” I said.
“Did you mean to say pushover?”
“No. I didn’t.”
“Thanks, Kate.” He went to join Samuel and Camilla and that’s when Alana walked in. She looked over at me, then at the empty counter with a questioning shrug. I nodded toward the seat next to me and she sat.
“His sister came in with his niece and nephew and he’s supposed to watch them for two hours at the expense of his job,” I whispered.
“So I’m just in time. Alana to the rescue. Would it be weird if I offered to take them to the park?” she said.
“Probably, since they barely know you.”
“Next door for some cookies from the grocery store?”
“Better,” I said.
She cracked her knuckles and walked to the counter. It didn’t take long before I heard Diego say from the back, “Alana?”