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“Since when?” Cara says.
“Since I work there,” I say sweetly.
“How did you—” she begins, and then snaps her mouth shut, eyeing me with a suspicious frown. “I thought you said they didn’t have any open slots,” she says to Lo. The flirtatious tone has gone into accusatory mode. Obviously she tried to get a job there to spend more time with Lo.
“They didn’t,” he says, shrugging.
I smile widely. “What can I say? I’m special. Come on, Lo. We’re going to be late. Get in.”
Resisting the urge to peel out of the parking lot and leave black tire marks in my wake, I drive more sedately, keeping my exhilaration contained. I don’t even know why I’m keeping score, because it’s so childish, but I do, anyway. Nerissa two, Cara zero.
My exhilaration wanes into acute awareness of Lo sitting in the passenger seat, and all of the unsaid things from the other day in the cafeteria lying between us. Neither one of us says anything, but the silence is comfortable instead of awkward.
“Hey, what song is this?” Lo says, twisting the volume button on the car stereo.
I fumble for my phone on the middle console and chuck it at him. “It’s just a playlist I’m working on. That one’s called ‘As the Rush Comes’ by Motorcycle.”
“I like it. Very mellow,” he says, stroking the face of the phone with his thumb and scrolling through the playlist. “I know some of these. You have good taste.”
I laugh. “You know some of those because they’re yours. You and I started this playlist.”
With a raised eyebrow, he selects the next song. The opening chords of Blackmill’s “The Drift” comes on. “This is one of my favorites. I love the piano instrumental with the backbeat. It’s tight.”
“Yep,” I say. “You got me into them. Here, hand that over for a second. Bet you don’t know these guys, but this one is all you.” With a quick swipe, I select the last song I added to the playlist. I don’t add that I’ve listened to the chorus of the song at least a hundred times while torturing myself about what he’s been doing all summer with Cara.
“Who is it?” he says after a few bars, his foot tapping against the floor.
“Morgan Page’s ‘The Longest Road,’ Deadmau5 remix.”
“Catchy.”
“Great lyrics,” I add.
“I can see that,” he says quietly. His gaze flutters on me for a second and then drifts away when mine flicks to his. I don’t know if he’s agreeing with me or appreciating that they mean something to me. He looks as if he has more to say, but then he bites his lip and releases a slow sigh. He stares out the window for a moment before shifting in his seat to face me. “Sorry about the other day at school,” he blurts out. “I didn’t realize we were a couple. I mean, it makes sense. When you were at my house, I felt something. It was so strong, like this weird pull toward you. Sorry, it wasn’t weird...” He trails off with a stammer. “I am totally screwing up what I want to say.”
“I know what you mean, Lo.”
“I wish I could remember. I don’t know how I could forget you or us, that’s all,” he says, shooting me a look that makes my heart flip-flop. “Sawyer told me that it was love at first sight,” he adds with a laugh, “and then he told me the truth...that I had to work hard to even get you to go out with me.”
“Hardly,” I protest, but I can’t hide the blush that heats my neck, nor the fact that it threatens to go supernova at his next words.
“I’m sure it was worth it,” he says quietly.
At a stop sign, I turn to smile tremulously at him, my heart beating a hundred miles a minute. “It was for both of us. You helped me figure out a lot of things about myself. We’re pretty similar, you and me.”
“Seems like it,” he says with a thoughtful glance, studying the playlist on the phone’s screen. “You know, I was surprised that people didn’t tell me about you. I asked because I found a prom photo earlier this summer.” His teeth flash white for a second. “One of me dressed in some seaweed with this totally hot girl.”
I know the one he’s talking about—it was one of the few photos we took together at Jenna’s house right before Junior Prom. “We were Neptune and Salacia. Roman gods of the ocean.”
“I figured it was some kind of theme,” he says with a somber smile. “I think Bertha thought it would be better if I didn’t know. It’s not like you were still around, so she told me you were someone I’d gone with. Maybe she thought it would be too painful if I couldn’t remember. I mean, there I was staring at this girl with this expression...like she was everything to me and I couldn’t even remember her name. I think Bertha felt sorry for me.” He trails off to stare out the window, his voice going so quiet that I have to strain to hear him. “I wish someone had told me, because maybe I could have tried harder. Maybe I could have done something differently, made myself remember somehow.” He shrugs, watching me, his tone wistful. “Because now here you are, and all I want is to be that guy in that photo.”
Lo’s eyes are intense and it’s all I can do not to start crying then and there. “That guy is still in there, Lo,” I say. “And that girl will always be here, waiting for you. You just have to take it one day at a time.”
Everything inside me tenses up when he reaches over and slides his palm over the back of my hand on the gearshift, holding it there for the rest of the ride. I’m afraid to even look at him, so I swallow hard and keep my eyes on the road, barely conscious of anything but the warm seal of his skin on mine. We listen to the rest of the playlist in silence until I pull in to the Marine Center parking lot.
“I’m sorry,” he says, drawing his hand away. “I didn’t mean to overstep—”
“You didn’t. This is new to me, too. One day at a time. Deal?”
“Deal,” Lo says, then hops out of the Jeep with an overbright grin as if to make up for the earlier turn in the conversation. “Thanks for the ride. So this is going to be like old times, right?”
The question takes me aback for a second before I realize that he’s joking. “You can’t even remember last week,” I toss back. “What do you know about old times?”
“I guess you’ll have to show me.”
I take a breath to calm my racing pulse and manage a half-teasing smile. “I don’t think you’re quite ready for that, but I’ll let you know when.”
“Promise?”
The evocative meaning in that single word makes my bones dissolve into nothing. Which explains why you couldn’t knock the smile off my face as we walk into the Marine Center.
“Hey, Riss!” Kevin shouts, jumping over the counter to sweep me into a huge bear hug. “So glad you’re back. Place just hasn’t been the same without you. Where’s your partner in crime?”
“Jenna? Don’t worry, I’ll get her back here to do her share. She’s at a hockey game.”
“No hockey for you this year?”
“I’m focusing on other things,” I say. Yeah, like finding a cure for my boyfriend’s imminent doom. I smile brightly. “But hey, at least Lo’s been here holding down the fort.”
Kevin grins, chucking Lo in the shoulder. “Well, if he could only remember his name, it’d be awesome,” he teases.
“That joke never gets old,” Lo says good-naturedly. “So, what do you have for us today? Beach cleanup?”
Consulting a clipboard on the desk, Kevin purses his lips. “Actually, someone just called in from La Jolla Shores saying that they thought they saw a bunch of garbage bags caught in the kelp beds. You guys want to check it out? Just radio back if you need help. Standard swipe and dump, shouldn’t take the two of you too long.”
“We’ll take care of it,” I say.
“Riss, you remember where the boat is, right?” Kevin asks, tossing me a set of keys attached to a bright yellow foam oval. “It’s good to have you back.”
“Great to be back.” I find that I mean it. I’ve missed the Marine Center and doing my part to protect the world’s oceans. It is where I live, after all, and although we aren’t allowed to interfere in the day-to-day politics of people who share the planet with us, marine conservancy is an area where we can get more actively involved.
Lo and I get changed in the respective bathrooms and meet out on the beach near the shed where all the gear is stored.
“We probably won’t need these if those bags are just floating, but do you remember how to scuba?” I ask him, tugging on one of the air tanks and tossing it into the back of the dune buggy.
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