Spring Perfection (4 page)

"Oh, Scottie," she says as she starts to put things
together.

"I hope this is okay," I say as I help her out of the
boat. "I know this is a hard time for you and I know you would rather be
on your home island remembering your mother. But I thought, just for this year,
you could share this island with me, your best friend, and I could think of
your mother with you."

She is quiet and I think for a moment that I've made a mistake. I
was too presumptuous. What made me think that she would want to spend this day
with me? What made me think she would want to wallow in the sadness of her
mother's death? This was a stupid idea.

"You're so much more than a friend to me, Scottie," she
says burying her face into my chest. I wrap my arms around her and kiss the top
of her head.

I'm not much of a cook, but Reyna seems to enjoy the sandwiches I
made. We wash it down with virgin
pina
coladas which
didn't stay as cold as I had hoped. Reyna doesn't seem to mind.

As the sun sets, I wrap my arm around her and say, "So, is La
Cienega smiling?"

She looks at me and says, "We both are."

Reyna and I stay up most of the night talking. She tells me
stories about her mother and about Puerto Rico. Though I had heard them all
before, I don't mind hearing them again.

We take our time gathering our things the next morning. It was a
perfect night and neither one of us wants it to end. Reyna is the only girl I
can spend the night with on a completely pure and platonic level. Our
relationship transcends anything physical.

Reyna is an excellent student and I think she will be upset with
me for making her late for school the next morning, but she isn't. Instead, she
suggests we go somewhere for coffee and continue our conversation. How is it I
never get tired of talking to her?

Around noon, I drop her off at home and then drive the few blocks
over to my own house.

My little brother Stu is sitting on the curb. This worries me. He
should be in school.

"What's wrong?" I say hopping out of my car.

"What's wrong?" he says incredulously. "What's
wrong? I should be asking you that. Where have you been, Scott?" He stands
and starts looking me up and down as if searching for an injury.

"I'm fine, Stu," I say grabbing my stuff out of my car.

"Well, not for long. You better hope you have a broken
Achilles or an enflamed tendon or whatever it is you athletes get. That is the
only way Sam is going to forgive you for what you did."

"Is she really mad?" I ask even though I know the
answer.

"Scottie, I love you, so don't take this the wrong way. But
that is the dumbest thing you've ever said in your life. Of course, she's mad.
You walked out during the eighth inning of what was supposed to be your first
perfect game.
A perfect game.
PERFECT! What were you
thinking? I thought this was what you wanted."

I shake my head. "Nah, I
thought
that was what I wanted. But I think I found what true perfection is."

***

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