LAUREN
Even though he was our next-door neighbor, and Em’s new boyfriend, I was surprised to find Lucas standing right outside my door when I burst out of the house the next morning. I wanted everything to go perfectly, and I’d been running over my plan again and again in my head.
“Hey . . . you,” I said, keeping my voice down. He was polishing—or waxing or whatever you called it—a surfboard that was perched against the side of our house. “You’re up early.”
I must have looked nervous when I glanced around, because Lucas grinned at me knowingly “Don’t worry, Zane’s at work. I just wanted to get in a few waves while Emerson was still crashed.” I immediately relaxed, and he went back to buffing the long board. “Did you know she snores?”
“How could I not? Our dorm was the size of a shoebox. I had to wear earplugs our entire freshman year.” I nodded toward the board. “Well, have fun with that.” I was about to go when he flipped it around, and something about the board made the hairs on the back of my neck rise. I gave it a second glance, tilting my head for a better look. “Isn’t that—” I started. “That sorta looks the same as Will’s surfboard.”
Lucas stroked it possessively. “It is . . . well, was.” He tapped something scrawled along the bottom left edge. “That’s his autograph, right there. Billy Gabaldon.”
I leaned closer, squinting so I could make out the name.
“Why do you have it?”
“Bought it.”
Frowning, I did a double take. “Why?”
“Because . . . it’s Billy Gabaldon’s board. Why wouldn’t I buy it?”
I thought about what my real question was, and tried again. “Why was he selling it?”
Lucas ran an appreciative hand over the green and yellow pattern. “I dunno. For Tess, probably.”
The hairs on the back of my neck prickled even more. There was that name again—Tess. I needed to get out of there.
But Lucas stopped me. “How much do you know about him? Billy, I mean?”
I blew out a breath to make it clear I was put out by this conversation. “I know he doesn’t like to be called Billy,” I said irritably. “And that he was some kind of surfer and he gave it all up for this Tess girl.”
Lucas frowned at me. “I mean, yeah, sorta. That’s about half right. He was a surfer—a really great one. There was no one like him. He got more tunnel love than anyone I ever saw.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Tunnel love? Is that some sort of euphemism I should know about?”
Lucas snorted. “Surfing. Dude could ride the inside of a wave—the tunnel—like nobody’s business. Fuckin’ awesome, if you ask me!”
I had to laugh at Lucas’s enthusiasm. No wonder he bought the board. “Got it.”
“I still can’t believe he had to give it up. Everyone was hopin’ it was only temporary. That he’d heal and be back at it, ya know?”
“Nope. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“From the accident,” he prompted. And when I just shook my head, he elaborated. “He took a header during a competition. He was riding a barrel when a huge swell came outta nowhere and slammed him into a reef. Fucked him up real bad. Massive concussion—bad enough that he had to go to ground after that. That wipeout pretty much killed his career.”
The fact that Will had suffered an injury didn’t make me any less disgusted by his decision, but at least it made some sense. No one gave up world-class competitions over a girl. But at least if he couldn’t surf anymore, his ex would be an easy fallback.
“And that’s when he got back with Tess?” I asked, wondering why I even cared. It had been the right call, not to get involved in their brand of fucked-up drama.
“Got back with Tess?” Lucas was shaking his head. “I don’t know what you heard, but that’s messed up. Tess isn’t Billy’s girlfriend. She’s his sister.”
Tess.
Tess from the Sand and Slam. Tess from the beach.
She wasn’t Will’s girlfriend?
But that didn’t make sense.
So, Will hadn’t been cheating on her when he’d kissed me. When he’d stroked me and put his hands and lips on me . . .
I put my hand against the wall to steady myself. “That can’t be right.” Zane had told me . . . Lucas had come back for Tess.
But had he actually said Tess was Will’s girlfriend, or had he only led me to believe that was the case?
“No. It’s true.” Lucas said. “And Billy didn’t come home right after his accident. In fact, if their mom hadn’t died, he might never have come back at all. But he did the right thing and stepped up. Been workin’ his ass off to take care of Tess ever since.” He pointed to the board. “Must be in pretty bad shape if he had to sell the board though. Needed the cash, I guess.”
Suddenly everything I’d believed about Will was wrong. It was a lot to process, and I wasn’t sure where to start.
Will had come back here to take care of his sister because she needed him. He’d sold Lucas his surfboard so he could take care of her.
Not that it mattered, really, but I still couldn’t stop myself from asking. “How long ago did it happen? His mom dying?”
“’Bout a year, give or take. Maybe six months after his accident. She wasn’t sick very long—happened pretty fast. Some kind of cancer. She never told anyone about it until the very end. They weren’t real close or anything, but Billy probably woulda come back if he’d known. By the time she died, he’d already gone off the grid, career wise. No one could reach him in time and he missed the funeral.” Lucas ran his hand through his spiky hair. “Kinda makes you wanna call your mom, doesn’t it?”
I knew Lucas was just saying it, but I actually did want to call my mom. Will and Tess’s story was tragic, and my vision blurred as I tried to imagine not being there while my mom was sick and dying.
“I gotta go,” I said, waving absently and making a quick escape. I couldn’t hear any more about Will or Tess or sick moms. I’d been excited when I’d gotten up that morning for the big day I had ahead of me, and hearing Will’s story had put a serious damper on it.
Still, it didn’t stop me from dialing my mom on my way to the rec center, just to say hi.
“Norm, come out here. You have to see this!” My heart was beating double time as I propped open the front door and called for my new supervisor. There might not be fences with razor wire, but this still wasn’t the kind of neighborhood where you left your keys in your car . . . or a giant box of brand-new laptops unattended for too long.
Norm rushed from his office, his face flushed and blotchy, and his eyes bulging. “What is it? Where’s the fire?”
“Hurry!” I nodded toward the parking lot. “No fire, but you won’t believe what just happened.”
And if he had any sense, he shouldn’t. But it didn’t stop me from praying I could pull this off. My acting skills were about to be put to the test, and if I played my part right, this performance would be Oscar-worthy.
By the time he reached me, he was sweating. I worried that if that brief burst of exercise had been such a strain, then what I was about to do might cause his heart to actually explode. It didn’t matter though. The kids needed these computers.
“Check it out,” I told him, grabbing his arm and towing him along. “I was just getting out of my car when some guy pulled into the lot and dropped these off.” We reached my car, where I’d unloaded the box I’d meticulously packed the night before. Inside were ten laptops, loaded with the latest and greatest in hardware and software. Not only would I teach these kids the fundamentals of computers, I hoped to introduce them to skills like coding and Web developing. I intended to give them the skills to surpass their peers.
Basically, I wanted to turn them into full-blown cybergeeks.
Norm looked into the box and then back at me. I tried to decide if I saw any trace of suspicion, but after several long seconds, his mouth went slack. “So this guy, he just . . . dropped them off?”
“Look!” I gasped dramatically. “There’s a note!”
He fumbled for the envelope and ripped it open. I waited while he read it, not needing to see it to know what it said:
To Whom It May Concern:
I’ve recently had a run of luck and wanted to pay my good fortune forward. Please accept this donation to your organization. I hope these computers help to teach many children the skills they need in this ever-changing world we live in.
Signed,
Anonymous
I had to force myself not to mouth along with the words as Norm read it again to the staff members inside, even as he took credit for finding the box himself.
I didn’t care about any of that. All I cared about was that the kids would have the computers they deserved.
It took several hours to get the laptops all up and running, but I enlisted my class—all but the one who hadn’t bothered to show up again this morning—for help. Apparently I hadn’t been as disappointing as I’d thought.
I walked them through the steps of unpacking the computers and booting them up, one at a time. And while we did that, I memorized each of their names. I talked Norm into giving me the passwords to the wireless routers they used at the center for their main computers, and while we waited for each computer to connect, I made different connections, getting to know more about my new students.
I knew that Walker, the boy who’d been wearing the tattered blue jeans the day before, lived with his grandmother. That’s what he’d told me, almost in the same breath he’d admitted that his mom had been in jail since he was a baby and he’s never known his dad. It was one of those moments when I realized that what I was doing was bigger than just teaching some kids how to point and click.
I knew that Annalisa was only thirteen, but had already lived in seven foster homes. She liked the one she was in now. They had two other foster children and another girl they’d officially adopted a couple years ago. They were good to her, she said, and she had her own bedroom. She didn’t say as much, but I got the feeling she hoped they would adopt her too, so she could stop moving from place to place.
I didn’t blame her. I sort of wished they would too.
It was amazing to watch these kids progress, even in only one afternoon. At first everything I said to them was gibberish. But after just a few hours it started to sink it. These were smart kids who’d never really been given a chance. I could hardly imagine how much more I could teach them.
This was the real reason I’d left Arizona. This was how I’d use the skills I’d learned by running my Web operation. Now it would serve a purpose.
This, right here with these kids . . . this, I was proud of. I finally felt like I belonged somewhere.