by Emily Lowry
Kevin handed her a board game.
Her brow furrowed as she examined the box, flipping it over. The glow from the fairy lights caught her skin just the right way, seeming to highlight the soft curves of her face. There must have been hundreds of other people at the Night Market, but my eyes were drawn to her. She was the best kind of beautiful — the kind of beautiful that didn’t know she was beautiful.
Kevin, on the other hand? Dull as a practice jersey. Why was Zoe so nervous around him? If anything, he should’ve been nervous around her. She was that far out of his league.
Or maybe I was just being hard on him. Just because I didn’t think chess or board games were that interesting, didn’t mean they weren’t. There was nothing wrong with having interests besides sports. Besides, Kevin was smarter than me. I was just your typical high school jock.
But as I looked at Zoe, I just didn’t get how a guy like Kevin wouldn’t be interested in Zoe. For that matter, I couldn’t understand how any guy wouldn’t be interested in Zoe.
21
Zoe
I bounced back to Mason, a paper bag dangling by my side. Inside the bag was my newest board game. I pulled it out and presented it to him. “I’m now the proud owner of ‘The Quest for El Dorado.’ It’s an adventure game, apparently. You’re an explorer and you have to journey across the jungle to find some gold.”
“This actually looks kind of cool.” Mason examined the brightly-colored box and traced his finger along the outline of a golden statue. “How’d the whole flirting thing go?”
“He was so nice and polite. Funny, too,” I said. I wasn’t sure if I imagined it or not, but it looked like Mason’s smile flickered ever so slightly. “I think I did okay.”
“I’m sure you were great,” Mason said. His voice sounded… almost jealous?
No. That couldn’t be right, could it?
But, as our adventure through the Night Market continued, I couldn’t deny that Mason seemed off. We checked out a few more booths, and while he continued to crack jokes, he wasn’t able to muster the same enthusiasm he had before I’d awkwardly flirted with Kevin. I was probably just reading too much into everything. Maybe he was tired. Probably, he was tired.
Tired of hanging out with me. Being my coach. That was it. Mason had better things to do on a Thursday night, I was sure.
While he was busy chatting with a vendor about a present for his sister’s birthday, I wandered to the information booth.
Kenzie, the overachiever that she was, was on volunteer duty tonight. She saw me and smiled. “Zoe! You should’ve told me you were coming! I could’ve got you… well, we don’t really do discounts… I could’ve… the point is, you should’ve told me. What are you doing here?”
“I’m with Mason,” I said.
Kenzie’s eyes widened. “Alone?”
“It’s date training,” I said.
She glanced at the logo on my paper bag. “I see you’ve already found Prince Boring. How’d it go?”
“He’s not boring,” I said. “We just don’t have much in common. And it went well, I think. I didn’t swallow my tongue and I didn’t spill anything on him, so it was probably the best flirting I’ve ever done.”
Kenzie snorted. “Impressive. Truly. What do you have planned next?”
“Cheering up Mason, I think,” I said. He was still bartering with the vendor. I turned back to Kenzie. “Do you have any ideas?”
Kenzie grinned mischievously. “Oh, I have the perfect thing for you two.”
22
Mason
I bought a stuffed frog for Chelsey. It had a voice box inside, and a voice recorder. When you squeezed the frog, it talked. I recorded a quick message, then, when I was sure Zoe wasn’t looking, I bought something else. I didn’t know when it would come in handy — maybe it could be a reward for her first date with Kevin? — but I had it if I needed it.
I made sure the stuffed frog was in the top of the bag, then made my way over to where Zoe and Kenzie were chatting.
Kenzie looked up, and her cheeks reddened.
“Hi, Mason.” She tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear.
“What’s up, Kenz?” I grinned.
Before she could answer, Zoe spun. “We’re leaving the bags here. I have somewhere to take you.”
I hesitated. Honestly, I’d been thinking of heading home. I had a game tomorrow night, and I couldn’t shake the image of her laughing with Kevin. That was the whole point of our “Mason’s Dating for Dummies” classes, but it didn’t sit right. It was like I’d eaten a sandwich from a gas station. It probably wouldn’t kill me, but I didn’t like the way it made me feel.
Zoe frowned slightly. “You okay?”
“I…”
She waited, her excitement fading slightly. I couldn’t let that happen.
I looked at Kenzie. “We can leave these here?”
“Yep!” Zoe snatched my bag and practically threw it towards Kenzie. Then she grabbed my hand and pulled me through the Night Market. Booths blurred as we jogged through the crowd. Zoe moved like a running back — a graceful one. She juked and spun through the crowd, pulling me towards the shore.
Specifically, she was pulling me towards the docks, which were lined with tiki torches.
And there was something else.
Something that made my jaw drop.
“Are you kidding?” I asked.
“It’s amazing, right?”
At the end of the dock, there was a dance floor. Not just any dance floor — a floating dance floor on what I assumed was a pontoon. The floor was made of tiles that lit up in different colors, and there was a DJ booth in one corner. The DJ was an old man in a pressed suit. Gold glasses sat on his hooked nose, and he was playing music on vinyl.
Couples — mostly middle-aged or older — whirled around the dance floor to the upbeat music.
“Is this swing?” I asked.
“Jive,” Zoe said.
“There’s a difference?”
“Absolutely,” Zoe said, her eyes lighting up. “Same family, but swing has a lot more twisting. Jive is bouncier. Are you ready?”
When she looked at me like that, with her eyes sparkling, how could I say no? I didn’t wait for her to lead the way. Instead, I barreled down the steps, pulling her behind me. I lead her to the center of the crowded dance floor.
“Now what?” I asked.
“Give me your hands.”
I did.
“Now watch my feet.”
I couldn’t hear her over the music. “What?”
She leaned in close enough for me to smell her perfume. Vanilla and cinnamon. When she spoke, her lips were near my ear and I felt her breath on my cheek. “Watch my feet. Mirror my moves.”
I took her hands and watched her feet.
“This is a rock step,” she said. She moved one foot behind the other, putting her weight on her back foot. “Then you transition into a triple step, like this. You try.”
I tried.
She winked. “A natural.”
“I doubt it.”
“You’ll get there. Let’s try to the music.”
I wasn’t the best dancer — not by a mile. But with Zoe’s instructions, I could jive somewhat in time to the music without making a complete fool of myself. Our knees only knocked together once or twice, at which point she told me to angle my hips slightly.
It was amazing how different Zoe was once you got her on the dance floor. She moved with complete confidence, in perfect rhythm with the music. She was also kind and encouraging, even when I accidentally bumped into her — or sent her spinning into other people. Not that that happened often — she was a good enough dancer that she just adjusted her footwork, avoided them, and made everything look intentional.
Somehow, she was making me look good.
23
Zoe
Magic.
That was the only way I could describe my night. The music, the stars, the colorful lights, and Mason’s hands
in mine. I had a curfew, but I did not care what time it was. There was no way I was going home. Not until they forced us off the floating dance floor.
Mason spun me, then pulled me close, catching me in his arms, and dipping me to the floor.
I let my hair fall back and laughed.
He lifted me back up to him. “How am I doing?”
The way he smiled made me shiver in the warmest way. I grinned. “I think you’re ready for the next move. It’s called the octopus.”
Mason let out an exaggerated gasp. “You’re throwing me to an octopus?”
I laughed again and rolled my eyes. “It’d probably just throw you back.”
“Be careful,” he warned playfully, “or I’ll spin you right off the dance floor.”
“Put your money where your mouth is, Space Face. Move your hand like this and do a rock step.” I made a semicircle with my hand. On our next rock step, he repeated the gesture.
Then the spinning started.
I spun — slowly, just in case — under his arm, spinning in front of him. In theory, we would’ve performed this perfectly, and he would’ve repeated the spin, spinning in front of me this time. In practice, we became a stumbling tangle of limbs.
“How are your hands on my legs?” I asked, trying to control my laughter.
“I thought it made sense?”
“Not even a little bit,” I sputtered. “Here. Try again.”
We tried again.
This time, we did better, our bodies slightly less of a tangled mess. The third time wasn’t quite the charm, but there was definite improvement. By the time we had it mastered, Mason’s face was a frown of concentration, and I suspected he was mildly dizzy.
“Look at you, Mr. Focus,” I said. “I’ve never seen anyone looking like they’re concentrating harder. You need to relax. Like ninety percent of dancing is in your cheeks.” With my fingers, I mimed pushing my cheeks up into a smile.
Mason spun me again. “All this time, I thought you were supposed to use your feet to dance.”
“Nope,” I said. “It’s all in your face.”
“Like this?” Mason puffed his cheeks out like he was a blowfish. A stupid, grinning blowfish.
I smiled. “Exactly.”
He spun me.
When I faced him once more, he’d changed his facial expression. Now, instead of a blowfish, he sucked his cheeks in and puffed his lips out like a guppy.
Laughter bubbled in my chest. If he was going to keep making faces, I was going to have a tough time keeping control — and when you danced, control was everything.
We did the octopus.
Then he dipped me, and when he dipped me, his face changed once more. He sucked his lips in like he was an old man and furrowed his brow. When he spoke, he sounded like my grandpa. “Oh, my back.”
He bent over and clutched his back. Then, a mischievous grin on his face, he mimed grabbing a walker and dancing with it. He even pretended to spin it, then made a show out of lunging for it when it didn’t come back.
I lost control, laughing so hard that tears blurred my eyes.
Unfortunately, this only encouraged Mason’s ridiculousness. Now, his facial expression was changing into something new and absurd every three seconds. He went from old man, to robot, to Frankenstein’s Monster, to Frankenstein’s Monster doing the robot, to what I thought was a zombie.
Meanwhile, I couldn’t breathe due to my laughter so I practically crawled off the dance floor. I grabbed the railing and looked back at Mason.
He. Was. A. Spectacle.
Not just to me. The other dancers had also noticed what was going on. Some cheered him on. Others laughed. And one older woman that I recognized even joined in.
Verity slid up beside Mason and mirrored his moves. They pretended to be shopping together, reaching for items on the shelf, checking them, and putting them in the shopping cart. At one point, apparently, they bought a sprinkler. And then, completely out of time with the music, Mason started doing the macarena.
That was too much for Verity, who also burst out laughing. Doubled over, she found her way to me.
Mason was still dancing — now with Verity’s husband. They looked like they were trying to perform Riverdance. They finished, grabbed each other’s hands, and jived.
“My goodness, that boy is learning,” Verity said.
My lungs hurt from laughing. “Looks like.”
Mason tried to lead Verity’s husband into the octopus. Unfortunately, neither of them knew the woman’s part, so it ended with Mason getting elbowed in the face. It didn’t deter him at all — it only caused him and Verity’s husband to break down in wild laughter.
Verity placed her hand on my shoulder and smiled. “That boy is an absolute treasure.”
I smiled back. Mason was a treasure. And even if he wasn’t my treasure, I was thrilled for whoever he was going to end up with.
24
Zoe
Under Mason’s guidance, both my dating life and my social life were slowly but surely improving. Kevin moved beyond simply nodding at me in the hallway — now we had five-minute chats about whatever board game he was interested in. There was a lot of smiling and nodding dumbly on my part, but still — progress!
Meanwhile, Mason had started making funny faces every time he saw me talking to Kevin. Rumors swirled about why the gorgeous high school quarterback couldn’t keep a straight face — ever. I warned him that he needed to be careful or his face might stay like that. He told me he hoped it did, because he needed a challenge.
Physics was still a struggle, but I was managing a solid B. I usually tested well, so I hoped that when finals rolled around in December, I could bump my mark up.
However, despite the improvements in my social life, when Saturday night rolled around, I was still planning to spend it the same way I always did — alone. Or at least, I’d be alone as soon as Tyler and Mason left for the beach party at Highline Hideaway.
We were all hanging out in the kitchen. Mason and my brother were both dressed for a night out— new jeans, crisp t-shirts just tight enough to show off their muscles. I, meanwhile, was dressed for a night in — old gray sweatpants, hoodie, messy ponytail. Perfect for the Netflix binge awaiting me.
Tyler’s phone vibrated. He opened the message and his eyebrows rose so high I thought they’d leave his forehead. Then, his face relaxed into a huge, ear-splitting smile.
“That’s a suspicious grin if I’ve ever seen one,” I said.
“It’s her,” Tyler replied.
“I don’t know how you can date that she-demon.”
“You should be supportive,” Tyler said.
Okay. That was fair. I hadn’t been supportive of my brother’s burgeoning situationship with Parker — but that’s only because I knew the real Parker, while Ty just liked her pretty, popular mask. But under that sweetness-and-light façade, Parker was an entirely different person. She’d been one of Nina’s best friends in middle school. Then, almost overnight, she turned on Nina. Nina didn’t know why and pretended not to care. But I’d never forgiven her.
“I’ll try to be neutral,” I said. It was as big of a concession as I could make.
“Is Parker coming to Hideaway?” Mason asked.
Tyler shook his head. “She wants to meet me on High Street. Just the two of us.”
“Like a date?”
“Yeah.” Tyler’s smile faded. “It’s all good, dude. I’ll tell her I’ve already got plans with you. Maybe she’ll come to Hideaway.”
“No way, man,” Mason said instantly. “This is your chance to go out with the girl you’ve been crushing on. Don’t let me get in your way. There’ll be other parties.”
“Nah, I don’t want to ditch you.”
“I’ll keep him entertained,” I blurted.
Tyler snorted. “I’m definitely not ditching you with my little sister.”
“Very funny,” I said sarcastically, crossing my arms. “It’s not like I have any plans. And he co
uld probably use another dancing lesson. His footwork is still…”
Mason frowned. “You said my footwork was good.”
“My toes are still sore from our last dance.” I winked. Mason’s footwork was good — surprisingly good. He was a natural athlete, and, as he explained it to me, a lot of quarterbacking relied on proper footwork. I smiled at my brother. “Seriously. I’ll keep him company so you don’t feel like you’re ditching him. So go. Go on your date with… her. This is the most supportive I’ll ever be.”
“Are you sure?” Tyler asked. “Are you both sure?”
Mason and I responded simultaneously. “Go.”
My brother left the house so fast he left a Tyler-shaped hole in the wall. Mom was also gone for the evening, at an open house. Which meant Mason and I were alone.
The idea didn’t make me feel nearly as nervous as I expected. If anything, I was excited. At least now I had something to do on a Saturday night.
“You really don’t have to entertain me,” Mason said. “I can still hit Hideaway. All the guys from the team will be there.”
I bit the inside of my cheek. Was he being polite, or did he actually want to do something else? Something without me? “You can stay, too,” I said. “I was just going to melt into the couch and watch some cheesy movies. Or a trashy reality show. Haven’t decided which.”
“You should watch them in the treehouse like we used to when we were kids.”
I looked out the kitchen window. Our treehouse was perched in an old eucalyptus tree in the backyard. My uncle built it for Tyler and I years ago. When we were kids, we loved it. We had sleepovers there every weekend. Sometimes it was just me and Ty, sometimes all three of us, and sometimes four, if Nina was over. We devoured popcorn, chips, soda, and movies. Sometimes, we watched movies until the sun rose, but most of the time, we fell asleep through the third or fourth film.
