Caleb + Kate (13 page)

The girls gasp. Kate bites her lip to keep from smiling. I see this from my peripheral vision, but my eyes remain locked on Ted. This clown thinks I don't know exactly who he is. I've met his type a thousand times before.

Ted's eyes blaze. I guess I've touched on a sensitive area of ol' Ted's psyche.

“I could grind your poor butt into the ground.”

“Who said I'm poor? Just because I work doesn't mean I'm poor.”

“Please, Ted, stop this,” Kate says, moving in front of me.

I gently take her arms—her skin distracts me briefly—then I carefully guide her out of the way. She stares at me with a combination of surprise and frustration.

“Listen, Ted.” I say
Ted
like it's the most ridiculous name ever, which it almost is. “I don't know exactly how things work here, but I can show you how we settle things where I come from.”

Ted is not a fighter. He's a bully, but he's not a fighter. He glances at Kate and then hops up. So he's doing all this to impress Kate—that's interesting. “I have a future beyond making repairs at some hotel.” He looks me up and down like I'm nothing, which is typical and rather funny to me.

He walks off as if he's not trying to get away fast, though I know that's exactly what he's doing. Women do not understand the inner workings of men. But then Kate goes after
him
, leaving me there with the pack of girls. What is she doing? Is she concerned about Ted being upset? What's her problem—is she embarrassed to be around me?

I turn away from them then. Adrenaline pumps through me, the urge to hit something pulses in my veins, but I keep it contained. I want nothing more than my motorcycle and miles of empty road.

“He can be my handyman,” one of the girls says as I walk away.

KATE

“Pull!” Rachel yells as I pull the oars in unison with the other girls in the boat. Our arms move forward and back down as Rachel yells again. “Pull!”

The shell glides swiftly across the lake. All thoughts are gone, just the steady rhythm of our hands on the oars, the back-and-forth motion of our bodies as we pull against the water. We strain and I feel sweat in my hair, while my cheeks are cold from the chill off the river.

Practice has begun in my second year on Gaitlin's women's rowing team. Here on the water I at last found my passion— after years of pursuing other things, including dance and worthless music lessons. Much to the disappointment of my mother, I have no musical ability. I could practice and perform to a decent degree, but I was never going to be a professional singer, violinist, pianist, or conductor. Mom has a not-so-secret dream for one of her children to be a musician, and now those hopes are focused on Jake.

Moving from music into sports, I dabbled again. Dad believes that organized sports instill the life skills of discipline and teamwork. I burned out on basketball and rugby pretty fast, and for a time I believed everyone was off my case about being “involved.” Dad said as long as I didn't get into trouble, I could choose what I wanted to do in my spare time. Now I was on crew. With my love of water, it seemed the perfect choice.

The precision was hard to adjust to. It's one thing to run around a court or a field and work as a team. It's quite another to cause every movement—even the inhaling and exhaling of my breath—to be in unison with eight other girls. Over time, we feel when someone is dragging or distracted.

Someone will yell, “Stop thinking about your boyfriend, Michaela!” which sends a snicker through the crew because it was probably true.

I force Caleb from my thoughts and after a while, it works. My body moves and I do the counts, keeping focused on our rhythm and the perfection of my pulls.

There's something just a little off, and Rachel, our crew leader, yells, “Katherine, get your head into it.”

“Sorry,” she calls, and the boat cruises along stronger and faster. It's exhilarating how we speed across the water; our pace increases and the boat appears to glide with simple stealth down the wide river.

I focus, clear away everything else. No more jumble of emotions toward Caleb or rehashing the incident with Ted. No more thoughts about . . . love.

“Pull!” Rachel yells.

We fly across the finish buoy and cheer, knowing our time was great today.

“Excellent, girls!” Coach Katner yells from the dock, her stopwatch in hand.

“That could've been a contender for nationals,” Rachel says, looking up from her wristwatch.

Caleb
.

That fast and he's back. It's taken such effort for me to keep him out of my head that I'm suddenly exhausted.

I wonder where he is
.

Caleb didn't show up for fourth period. I sent him a text asking where he was. He didn't answer my first one.

M
Y SECOND SAID
:
I'll be held responsible if u are missing
.

C
ALEB RESPONDED
:
So I could get you in trouble
?

ME:
Ms. Liberty will have my head. I'm already on student
probation, remember. Nearly finished with it
.

C
ALEB
:
So I would have completed that probation. But if
you fail at escorting this student, then you're back on
?

M
E
:
You sound like you're enjoying this
.

C
ALEB
:
Yes. Immensely. Had appointment
.

M
E
:
A dentist appointment? I thought Christians don't lie
?

C
ALEB
:
Wasn't a lie
.

M
E
:
Then why don't I believe you
?

C
ALEB
:
Really did have appointment. On my way back, I
missed my exit, sort of
.

M
E
:
Should I come looking for you
?

C
ALEB
:
Too far away. I'm eating fish & chips in some town
in Washington
.

M
E
:
You ditched school? On the first day
?

C
ALEB
:
Didn't ditch, appointment and exit, like I said
.

There's not much I could say to that.

ME:
Sounds suspicious. And I'm jealous. I'm sorry about
Ted today
.

C
ALEB
:
No problem. What happened last year that got you
on probation
?

I hesitated before answering.

ME:
I went to a party with Oliver. It was his first day with
new Porsche. I didn't have my license, just permit. Party
was out of my league, his too. He was loaded, and I got
scared. So I drove us home. We got caught. We'd left a
school dance to go to the party and I was on leadership
team. Supposed to be responsible
.

C
ALEB
:
You and Oliver got caught
?

ME:
Ms. Liberty doesn't know about Oliver. Only his
parents. I couldn't cover him with them, so he's grounded
from his Porsche till eighteen
.

He didn't respond for a bit.

C
ALEB
:
Sounds honorable to me
.

I couldn't think how to respond, when he sent another text that saved me.

C
ALEB
:
Gotta run, miles to go before I sleep
.

I spent the rest of the school day thinking of him riding along some coastal road, wishing I could talk to him again . . . but I no longer had an excuse.

“Get some sleep,” Coach Katner calls as we carry our oars toward the equipment room.

I race up the docks toward the women's locker room, passing Katherine, who bends down to tie her shoe. I notice how thin she looks through her T-shirt. I haven't talked to Katherine much since Saturday night, but Anne told me she has a new crush on Caleb after his rescue. She was talking to him in Spanish III and avoiding Blake. Katherine's erratic behavior is starting to concern me, and now she's crossed that line between thin and too thin. We all know she's bulimic, but half the girls at school are to some extent, trying to manage it, keep it from taking an obvious toll. Now Katherine's behavior is out of control. Last year, a senior went down a path like this and it supposedly ended with her disappearance into rehab or some kind of hospitalization— I'm never sure if these are real stories or just rampant gossip.

After a quick shower, I turn the corner to the row with my locker and hear Emily say, “He's really good-looking. You don't see guys like him around here.”

When she sees me, Emily asks, “Kate, what do you know about him?”

I shrug my shoulders. “I hardly know him.”

“It didn't look like that at prom,” Susanna says. The other girls laugh as Emily continues her questions.

“He works at your hotel, for real?”

I open my locker as the girls press closer. “Yep, he does.”

“That's crazy. A Gaitlin guy working a job like that.”

Emily again, “So what's going on between the two of you?” I knew this was coming. It always irritates me when the mob of girls demands information like this. “Nothing.”

They look at me doubtfully as I quickly dress, knowing their eyes are sizing me up and down.

Micheala actually laughs. “I told you she'd say that.”

“There really is nothing to say.”

“You don't meet him in the utility closet at the hotel?”

Michaela asks. Now the other girls laugh.

“Funny.”

“After seeing him, I might just get a room and have him deliver my bags. I'll give him a very nice tip too,” Natasha says with a sly smile on her lips.

“So he's fair game?” Emily asks.

I shrug my shoulders. What do I say to that?

“Aren't all guys fair game to you, Em?”

The girls laugh at that, and Emily isn't even offended.

“That would be a true statement. But the Hawaiian cabana boy—he's definitely on my radar.”

I sling my book bag over my shoulder and slide my feet into my shoes. “Cabana boy may not be interested in a Gaitlin girl.” It's so irritating that they call him that.
Thank
you, Monica
.

“If he's not interested in a Gaitlin girl yet, we'll have to make some progress in that direction.” The other girls agree as I say good-bye.

Oliver is reclined against a row of benches outside the marina gate, smoking a cigarette. “I thought you'd never get here,” he says drolly, opening his eyes.

“I knew you wouldn't quit.”

He sits up, leaning his arms on his knees. “What else was I supposed to do? My ride was taking her sweet time.”

“I didn't take my sweet time, it's called practice. And I'm not the only ride on the planet.”

“Wow, testy today aren't we? Rowing go poorly, love?”

I shake my head and walk up the stairs; he has to hurry to catch up with me.

“No. The locker room went poorly. But I don't want to talk about it.”

He pauses at a trash can, crushing his cigarette on the side and dropping it in.

“You should've skipped out of practice, like I told you.”

“I can't miss it, and it's part of your penance that you have to wait for me.”

He shakes his head. “When is my penance paid for?”

“Yours must last at least as long as mine does. It's
your
fault that I got into trouble.”

“I wish I'd just gotten caught, then I'd have paid the price up front and normal like.”

“Yes, jail is exactly like that. You should have gone to jail instead of having to wait by a lake on a spring evening, smoking cigarettes and watching a bunch of seventeen-year-old girls sweating and rowing across a lake. Jail and a roommate named Bubba would've been much better.”

“Okay, you have made your point.”

I bite my lower lip to keep from laughing.

“Bubba? Where did you come up with that one?”

“It was in a movie, I think.”

We both smile.

“Hey, I'm going to warn you right now. Ted has set his sights directly on you, my dear.”

“Well, that isn't news. It's only because he can't have me, and he's threatened by Caleb.”

“I really think the guy is in love with you.”

I laugh.

“He could make life for your surfer guy miserable. Might become one of those
if I can't have you no one can
.”

“So Ted is now a crazy stalker guy who will kill me in my sleep.”

“No, it's more like Ted, the practicing politician, could get your man kicked out of school, which would mess with his college acceptance, and the snowball starts rolling.”

We reach the school parking lot. I click the doors to unlock and the engine purrs to life from my handheld remote.

“He's not
my man
, by the way.”

“I give you both a month. Just be careful. You don't want to ruin the guy's heart
and
his life over this.”

Chapter Eight

Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind.

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
Hamlet
(Act 3, Scene 1)

CALEB

Luckily, nobody is home when I get back from my long ride. I am not ready for the question of the day from Dad and my sister and whoever else might stop by.

“How was your first day of school?” I don't quite know how to answer that. Since Mom died and Dad moved here, I've been either at a boarding school or free to do whatever I want.

I head for the garage, grab my board and wet suit, then make a quick stop inside for a towel, a few drinks, a bag of salt and vinegar chips, and the keys to Finn's jeep.