“We are,” I snap. “Why don’t you like your own cousin?”
“Of course I…” Marcus begins, then changes his mind. “Look. Let’s focus on those two.”
But Jason and Zadie are just standing at the helm, kissing.
“Doesn’t look like we’re missing anything,” I say, then turn back to Marcus. Suddenly, I want to see him squirm, make him just asuncomfortable as he’s made me. “Weren’t you and Jason ever best friends?”
He shrugs. “When we were five, maybe.” Marcus rubs the back of his neck as he thinks. He seems to be taking my question seriously. “I got a lot of attention when we were kids. I was fast for my age and, honestly, a bit of a show-off. I had the bigger personality.”
“You?” I’m incredulous. “I’m not sure I can see it.”
“Yes, me,” Marcus says, flicking one of my earrings. Today’s open secret. Each ear features a small dangling crown—with green, purple, and gold pieces—that Dad got me when he went to Mardi Gras one year. Marcus’s action is surprisingly playful and intimate, something you would do to someone you know well. I have no idea why I like it so much.
“Jay…didn’t love it,” he went on. “And one summer he started this thing where whenever our families got together, he would challenge me to a playoff. If I won, he’d sulk through the rest of our vacation. As we got older, he started to win more and more, and to this day that’s the only scenario he can live with.”
“Is that why you won’t try in soccer? So you don’t step on his toes?” I ask. “Because if you’re trying to maintain some agreement you and Jason have, then both of you are even dumber than I thought.”
My sharp words surprise even me, and Marcus narrows his eyes. “Maybe I’m not as good as he is.”
“Well, we’ll never know, will we?” I shoot back. “Because you’re just going to sit on your ass and phone it in. If you don’t try, you can’t fail, right?”
“There’s no agreement,” Marcus says with a sigh. “We give each other space, because we disagree on a lot of things.”
“Like what?” I ask, half goading Marcus. “What shot to take? Where to sit on the bus? Girls?”
He glances up at my last guess.
“Oh,” I say, catching myself. “How could I forget?”
Marcus frowns. “Forget what? What are you talking about?”
I snort. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. I know what you said.”
Marcus opens his mouth to say something, but just then the machine-y sound of the boat completely disappears. It’s like going from a rock concert to a child’s nursery at nap time.
“They’re here,” I say as the boat is pulling up by the wharf. A middle-aged man comes over and shouts instructions to Jason, helping to get them tied up. Other Zadie packs up, and she and Jason climb out of the boat. At the edge of the lake, rows of multicolored wildflowers mix in with the wilting grass, but it’s the bluish-purple poppies that catch my eye. I know I’ve seen those before.
“What is it?” Marcus asks, noting my distraction.
“Those flowers. I think they were in the last dream.”
Marcus looks confused. “Where in the last dream?”
But I can’t remember. It’s more like a feeling rather than a picture in my mind, so I shrug and let it go. As Jason’s friends disband, Marcus and I stick with Jason and Other Zadie.
They’re holding hands and walking down the dock. We’re close enough to see them slow, to hear Jason whisper “Hold on,” let go of Zadie’s hand, and walk the rest of the way down the dock to meet his father.
Other Zadie stays back, pretends to be on her phone while Jason and his father talk in quiet voices, but Marcus and I go close enough to hear. I always wanted to know what they talked about.
“I told you to bring the boat back by four,” Mr.R spits. “It’s almost six.”
Jason is repentant. “Sorry. We lost track of time.”
Mr.R says nothing but glances over Jason’s shoulder at Other Zadie. “I thought we agreed no girls until offseason.”
“Dad,” Jason says, sounding both exasperated and strangely pleading. I hold my breath while I wait for Jason’s response, a response he knows Zadie will never hear.
Love is what you do when no one is watching.
