“Jesus, Lily,” Sydney said as she rose from the chair and made her way to the doorway and back to her room. “With all these rich pretty boys here?” She was past the door now, but I could still hear her as she said, “Sounds like someone’s working out a little rebellion issue.”
I looked over at Jane, who quirked a questioning brow at me.
“That’s not it,” I said, though I wasn’t sure I believed myself.
“That’s too bad,” Jane said, and hoisted herself from the bed and made her way to the bathroom. “Because that would be over and done with fairly quickly, with no broken hearts.”
She closed the door behind her and I was left with my thoughts. Startled to think that maybe Sydney was right.
And scared to death that Jane was more right than Syd.
* * *
At the next swim lesson,there was no Lucas. And no Andy’s mother, either. Somebody had dropped him off, but I hadn’t seen them.
The lesson went well. Andy seemed much better at putting his head in the water. And somebody had obviously been working with Jessica, because she was turning into a little fish.
I hoped that these kids had the opportunity to get to a pool after the lessons ended. It would be a shame for them to just start to become acclimated to the water, then not get in a pool again for years.
It was already too cool for outdoor swimming, and there were no lakes or public beaches in the town that I knew of. Maybe there was a Y or something.
I kept myself from asking Andy who had dropped him off, but I noticed he did look up into the observation area a few time with expectation in his eyes, only to be disappointed.
And yeah…so did I.
And I hate to admit it, but while the girls ran through the shower, I took a little extra time and ran a brush through my wet hair and took it out of its ponytail, even though I’d be heading right back to the pool to swim laps.
Unless I had a better offer.
But no. No Lucas to pick up Andy. Instead, Andy slowly walked forward when a guy, who definitely wasn’t Lucas, sauntered down the hallway. He was Lucas’s age and almost as tall as him, but this guy didn’t have the strength and width across the shoulders that Lucas did. Same longer hair, but this guy’s was wavy and deep brown instead of Lucas’s straight, jet-black hair. And this guy seemed like maybe he hadn’t owned a comb for a couple of years, though he looked clean enough. He had on a jean jacket and jeans, with shockingly white Nikes. Like, maybe he’d come straight here from the shoe store, they were so white and unsullied.
“Scruffy” was the word that came to mind looking at him. Cute in an edgy way, but not with any of the sheer beauty of Lucas Kade.
“Ready, champ?” the guy asked Andy. Andy nodded and left my side.
Nobody had gone over any kind of protocol on pickup with me, and I had this momentary flash of Andy being abducted by some unknown thug.
But Andy seemed to be expecting said thug. Still…I put my hand on his little shoulder. “Do you know this guy?” I asked Andy.
Andy looked up at me with confusion. “Yeah. That’s Stick.” Like, I should totally know Stick.
Stick was looking me up and down, and I wished I hadn’t taken any extra time with my appearance. The knowing grin that spread across his face said he knew whom I was expecting to show up for Andy.
“Lucas is tied up right now,” he said. “I’m getting Andy for him. Right, kid?”
Andy nodded and moved away from me, to Stick’s (Stick? Seriously?) side.
I probably should have asked more questions, taken Stick’s license number down or something, but I didn’t. I just let Andy go with Stick.
There were no questions from Stick to Andy about how it went, or what to work on. Stick was pulling his phone out and doing something on it as they walked away from me.
Andy had been the last kid to be picked up, so all the other parents and instructors were gone, or back in the locker room.
This wave of…panic…came over me, and I raced down the hall. “Just one second,” I yelled, and Stick and Andy stopped and turned to me. “I…I forgot to give Andy his assignment for next week,” I said, though I had already talked about it with Andy while we’d been waiting.
Stick made an impatient wave with his hand, then kept texting, while I pulled Andy to the side, away from Stick.
I knelt down to Andy’s six-year-old size and said very quietly, “Andy, were you expecting Stick to pick you up? Did your mother tell you you’d be going home with him? Or was it a surprise?”
