by Kasie West
“No. I mean, I don’t know,” I said. “But I understand when parents expect something different for us than what we want for ourselves.”
“Is there a certain someone you’re wanting to spend some time with, and these obligations are getting in the way?” Victoria asked the caller.
He coughed and stuttered for a moment then said, “No.”
Victoria said, “That didn’t sound like a no.”
“Well, I do like someone, but this isn’t about her.”
“Does she know you like her?” Victoria pressed.
“No” was all he said. “But you’ve both given me things to think about. Maybe I’ll try the schedule thing. Thank you.” And just like that, he hung up. Victoria had scared him away.
Victoria fanned her face and mouthed Sexy voice to me. I agreed.
The clock on the wall said forty minutes had passed. We could definitely whittle that down to thirty minutes. Victoria must’ve noticed the clock too because she said, “That’s all the time we have today. Thanks for listening! We’ll be back next week, so if you were too shy to call today, please pick up your phone another time. We’re not too scary. Well, Kat is a little scary but we keep her behind glass so you’ll be safe.” I shoved Victoria’s shoulder and she laughed. “Until next time.”
Ms. Lyon opened the door between the two rooms. “Great work, team. We’re getting our legs under us. The postproduction crew will edit tomorrow. You’re all free to go.”
Alana grabbed my hand as we walked out of the recording studio. “You did better today.”
“You think?”
“Much.”
“Victoria does a good job. I’m just along for the ride.” In fact, I barely hung on. If there was no Victoria, there would be no podcast.
But something else was bothering me, too. Something that was hanging in the back of my mind.
“Did you recognize the voice of that last caller?” I asked Alana.
“No, but he was changing it.”
“I know.”
“Did you recognize him?” Alana asked.
“Maybe … I think …” I bit my lip. “Was it Diego?”
“What? No.”
“I think it was. And if it was, you know what that means, right?”
“What?”
“You heard him. He likes a girl. A girl he wishes he had more time for. He was talking about you, Alana.”
Alana’s eyes widened. “That’s a big jump.”
“Didn’t you say you had a solid flirting session at the tutoring center the other day? The boy likes you.”
“Shhh!” she hissed as if he might be lurking in the halls of school listening in.
I lowered my voice. “He said he wants to spend more time with a girl he likes, but his family is preventing it.” I stopped suddenly, remembering the picture Diego had in his phone case.
“What?” Alana asked.
“Maybe it isn’t Diego. He and his family seem close. He gets along with them.”
Alana shrugged. “Just because you’re close with your family doesn’t mean you can’t have disagreements.”
“True,” I said. “So you think the caller was Diego?”
“No. I was just pointing out a flaw in your logic. I still think you’re making a big assumption.”
“But if it’s him, the time issue is probably why he hasn’t asked you out. He knows he doesn’t have time for a relationship right now.”
“Maybe.”
I still wasn’t totally certain it had been him. But somehow I’d find out. Because if the caller was Diego, it was obvious that all he needed was a tiny push in Alana’s direction. I could help with that.
Labor Day weekend was one of the busiest rental times of the entire year. It was like people realized the warmth was leaving, so they were trying to soak up every last minute of sun.
“Guess who doesn’t have tutoring because of Labor Day?” Liza asked happily. She sat next to a rack of swimsuits in the marina shop, not helping at all. I stood at the register, behind the computer. Max was in the back, unpacking a shipment we had received that morning.
“You don’t?” I asked my cousin. I found myself slightly disappointed. The plan was to help Alana with Diego, and the tutoring center had been a good place to do that. Plus, I wanted to see if I’d been right about the podcast call—if Diego was the mysterious caller. I needed a long period of talking to him to figure that out.
“Nope,” Liza said, beaming. “Mom didn’t even reschedule it for another day this week.”
“Lucky you.” I nudged her leg with my foot. “Aren’t you going to miss Tommy?”
“Ha ha,” she said but she looked at the floor, probably to hide pink cheeks.
My dad appeared in the open doorway. “Kate, will you check the position of WaveRunner number seven on the GPS?”
“Yep.” All our power rentals had GPS units to keep track of them. Cell coverage on the lake was spotty and sometimes people couldn’t call in to the marina if they got stuck. “It’s in the cove,” I said when I pulled up the location on the computer.
He sighed. “That’s what I was worried about. It’s an hour late. The next renter is here.”
“It probably ran out of gas,” I said, and Dad nodded. “Want me to go check on it?”
Liza hopped up. “I can stand at the cash register.”
“Okay,” Dad said.
We had a smaller, older WaveRunner that had aged out of our renting fleet, but we kept it for situations like this when all the others were rented out. I grabbed the keys, a life jacket, and a rope, and headed out. With a big smile on my face, I untied the vehicle from the dock. I shouldn’t have been happy someone was stuck or late, but it meant I got to be out on the lake for a little bit.
After I got past the five-mile-an-hour buoys, I cranked the gas and picked up speed. Water sprayed out on either side of the WaveRunner, creating a fine mist on my legs. The lake was choppy today and crowded with boats. The sequoia trees created a dark green band against the blue sky. There were spots of rust-colored trees as well—dying trees. Some were suffering from the drought, some from a beetle that had infested the area a few years back.
The cove was up ahead, hidden by a bend in the lake and an outcropping of rocks and trees. When I rounded the corner, the first thing I saw was a fancy speedboat, its engine off. Two guys were standing inside the boat; one, who looked to be about my age, manned the wheel, and the other guy, who looked to be in his twenties, stood beside him, talking. I should’ve instantly recognized the boat as belonging to the Youngs but I didn’t until I recognized the driver: Frank.
I growled and applied more gas. When Frank heard the sound of my approach, he turned. Sitting, stalled, on the other side of his boat was our WaveRunner, empty of an occupant. I glanced around the lake to see if the driver was somewhere nearby. Then it occurred to me that our customer must’ve been the twentysomething guy Frank was talking to in his boat. I slowed and came up alongside the watercraft.
“Ah, they did eventually send someone out, Cody,” Frank said to the other guy. Then Frank gave me a smug smile and added, “Looks like one of your vehicles is out of commission again.”
I should’ve said, Again? Our crafts are only ever out of commission due to operator error. But I didn’t. Not only because a customer was standing right there, but because my mom had told me never to give the Youngs a reason to come after us. If we were always taking the high road, she said, they’d never be able to put up roadblocks. Her analogy didn’t quite work, though, because the Youngs always seemed to be able to throw roadblocks from whatever road they were on.
I grabbed the left handle of the stalled-out WaveRunner and cut my engine. That’s when I noticed the rope that Frank had attached to our WaveRunner. He was going to tow it in himself.
“What happened?” I yelled over to the customer. Cody, Frank had called him.
“I don’t know,” Cody said. “It just stopped working.”
I leaned over to loo
k at the controls. The key was in the ignition, so I turned it one click. The indicator on the gas gauge didn’t jump at all. “You ran out of gas.” I tapped on the indicator. “You have to keep an eye on this and fill up when it gets close.”
“What?” Frank called from his perch in the speedboat. “It’s hard to hear you down there. Why don’t you join us up here, Kat?”
I took a steadying breath and told myself not to snap at him. It would only make me look like the bad guy. I tied my craft to the back of the stalled WaveRunner. Then I walked across the two seats and jumped up onto the back deck of the Youngs’ fancy speedboat. Frank held his hand out for me but I ignored it as I hopped down into the main section, joining the two guys there.
The boat was amazing—a backlit dual touch screen on the dash above the steering wheel, stainless-steel cup holders, long plush bench seats around the back and open bow, and two captain-style chairs in the middle. It even had a rear-facing bench on the deck in back. And was that a small bathroom compartment? If I didn’t hate Frank, I would’ve asked him to take me on a tour of the boat.
But I did hate him, and he didn’t need the ego boost.
“I said that you need to keep an eye on the gas gauge so it doesn’t run out,” I explained to Cody.
“Oh,” Cody said. “Nobody told me.”
I knew that wasn’t true. It was one of the first things we told people who were renting.
“I won’t have to pay for a late return, right?” Cody added. “I’ve been stuck out here for an hour. I would’ve been on time.”
If you’d been paying attention, I wanted to say, you wouldn’t have been stuck at all. But that was something else my parents would’ve frowned on. Customer service was top priority. “No. It’s fine,” I said. “If you’ll just hop down onto the WaveRunner again, I can tow you back in.”
Cody looked at Frank, like Frank had anything to do with this.
“I said I would tow him in,” Frank said.
“No, that’s okay. I have it.”
I moved to jump over the back seats again but Frank stopped me. “We’re already tied up and ready. It will be faster this way,” he said.
I thought about my dad, and the new renter waiting back at the marina. Maybe if Frank saw the marina on this, our busiest weekend, he’d realize that we weren’t going anywhere.
“Fine. I’ll meet you back there.” I started off the boat again.
“I’ll ride you back, too,” Frank said.
I checked over the side to verify that I had tied my WaveRunner off the back and not to the side where the two would smash into each other. Then I nodded. Frank turned on his boat and it roared to life, displaying its power.
Cody whooped appreciatively and sat on the bench. Frank took his place in the driver’s seat and motioned for me to sit down in the other captain’s chair. I did, but turned so I could keep an eye on the WaveRunners.
“Relax, Kat,” Frank said. “Your toy boats will be fine.”
“It’s Kate,” I said.
“I thought you’d changed your name. That you were redefining yourself.”
Cody saved me from answering by saying, “My phone doesn’t work out here.”
“Cell coverage isn’t very good,” I said. “Maybe the Youngs should build a cell tower.”
“Maybe we should,” Frank said.
It wouldn’t surprise me if they were already in the process of doing just that.
“You like to wakeboard?” Frank asked, and at first I thought he was asking Cody but then I realized he was talking to me.
“Yes.” I loved to wakeboard. When one of our speedboats wasn’t rented and the whole family was available, my parents would take me and Max out. It wasn’t as often as I’d have liked.
Frank nodded up to his wakeboard that was nestled into a clip on the tower of his boat. “I’ll take you out sometime.”
“What?” Why was he being generous? I was so confused. This behavior was like a one-eighty from just last week. “No.”
A flash of irritation shone in Frank’s eyes, letting me know I was right to question his motives. But he didn’t say anything else.
Frank pulled up to the gas pumps at the marina, proving that he’d heard me explaining the gas issue to Cody just fine. Susan, the employee working there, helped ease the boat up against the buoys, probably thinking Frank needed a fill.
“It’s just the WaveRunner,” I called out to her.
“Oh, okay, got it!”
Frank went to the back and untied the rope. He flung it to Susan, who pulled the WaveRunners in. Then Frank gave Cody a hand over the side and onto the dock.
“Thanks,” Cody said, and went into the shop to collect his license and whatever other collateral he’d provided when he’d rented out the WaveRunner.
My dad stood on the far side of the dock, handing a paddle down to a woman who was renting a kayak. Dad kept glancing back toward me, probably wondering why Frank Young was docked at our marina.
I turned to Frank. “Thanks for your help,” I said gruffly, then moved to disembark.
“Kate,” Frank said.
I turned back to look at him.
“Truce?” he said.
I wasn’t sure where this was coming from, but I was sure there was an ulterior motive.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Why?”
“What do you mean ‘why’? Does there need to be a reason for a truce?”
“Yeah, kind of.”
“Maybe I’m tired of the grudge our parents hold against one another. Plus, we’re in a class together this year.”
“We’ve been in a class together before and it never resulted in a truce.”
“But it’s this tiny class and we have to interact more.”
“Fine, whatever. Truce.” I hopped over the side of the boat and walked straight into the shop. What had that been all about?
My dad stepped inside shortly after me. “What was that about?” Dad asked.
I smiled at our identical reactions. “Frank got to the customer first. Had already tied him up to tow him in.”
“Oh, well, that was nice of him.”
“Too nice?” I asked.
My dad tousled my hair. “Ah, don’t be so cynical, kid. One can never be too nice.”
I disagreed. Frank could be too nice, and there had to be a reason.
By Monday night, my skin felt hot from too much sun. I hadn’t applied enough sunblock for the amount of time I’d spent outside over the weekend. This afternoon, it had taken me an entire hour to teach one tourist family how to use a paddleboat. They kept turning it in circles.
I flipped on my ceiling fan and lay back on my bed, letting the air cool my skin. I reached over to my nightstand and retrieved my phone, then clicked on the icon that was like a portal straight into everyone’s lives. I scrolled down the page of pictures to see how everyone else had spent their weekend. Most of the people I followed were acquaintances from school and yet I felt like I knew way more about them than I should. Maybe that’s what kept me from posting more than I did: I liked to keep my life to myself.
I paused at a picture of Hunter. He was at some sort of a ranch with horses in the background. He wore a baseball cap but was surrounded by people in cowboy hats. Beneath the pic, he had written: I guess I’m going to ride a horse for the first time. The things friends can talk me into.
I clicked on the COMMENT button and typed: Careful, or you might have to trade out your hat soon.
My finger hovered over the ENTER button. I hadn’t commented on one of his posts in weeks. I deleted the comment and quickly called Alana.
“Hey,” she said. “Your child labor is done for the day?”
“They pay me.”
“Yeah, yeah. All I know is that it sucks that you are busy on basically every major holiday from May through September.”
“Love you, too.”
She grumbled something under her breath.
“Guess who I saw on Saturday?” I said. The marina
had kept me too busy to hang out or talk with her at all until now.
“Who?”
“Frank Young.” I filled her in on what had happened with the WaveRunner and how Frank had asked for a truce.
“What does he want?” Alana asked when I had finished my story.
“Right? That’s exactly what I wondered.” I was glad Alana agreed with me that his intentions couldn’t possibly be pure.
“Good thing I’m his partner in podcasting. I can keep an eye on him.”
“Yes, please do. And report any suspicious activity.”
She laughed. “I will infiltrate enemy lines to figure this out for you.”
I opened the top drawer of my desk, pulled out a half full bottle of aloe, and began applying it to my shoulders. “How was your weekend?” I asked.
“Very productive. I completely randomly ran into Diego at the Oak Court grocery store.”
“Completely randomly you just happened to be in a grocery store thirty minutes away from where you live at the same time Diego was there?”
“Okay, so I may have gotten some intel.”
“From who?”
“Remember that guy I talked to who was hanging out with Diego at lunch? Bennett?”
“Yes.”
“Sometimes I text him and ask him what he’s doing. Then he tells me, and occasionally he’s with Diego so then voilà, I find out where Diego is.”
I shook my head with a laugh. “You seriously should consider being a detective when you grow up.”
“No. Then I wouldn’t get to be a chef … or a newscaster. Or maybe I could have my own cooking show, and it would be like the best of both worlds.”
“That does sound like the perfect career path for you.” I put the cap back on the bottle of aloe. “So? You ran into Diego at the grocery store and what happened?”
“We talked for like fifteen minutes. It was great.”
“Only fifteen minutes?”
“I had convinced my mom we needed groceries and she was checking out, so I had to leave.”
“Oh.” I popped the aloe bottle back in my desk and sat down on my bed again. “And?”
“And what?” she asked.
“Were you able to listen to his voice and confirm he was the guy who called in to the podcast?”
