Girl Out of Water(35)

Lincoln grins, then asks, “Judges, do you have a decision?”

“The judges need to confer before delivering final results,” Austin says in mock seriousness. He turns to my cousins and motions them into a huddle. “Anise, Lincoln, please give us some space.”

We let them deliberate even though there’s nothing to deliberate. The twins are enjoying themselves, and that’s what’s important. Lincoln’s hand presses against my bare shoulder and guides me away from our judges. The touch is easy, reminding me of Eric. How can a familiarity that’s been cultivated over almost two decades with one guy be achieved in just a few encounters with another?

Lincoln nods at my cousins. “They’re pretty cute,” he says, then drops his hand, yet stands close to me, close enough that I notice a small scar on his right eyebrow, slanting diagonally through the fine hairs. Before he can catch me staring, I clear my throat and step a bit to the side.

“Yeah, they’re not bad,” I say. “Until you’re trapped in a house with them for an entire summer. Did you know nine-year-old boys require feeding? Like multiple times a day?”

“Huh,” Lincoln says. “I did not know that. I thought you just threw some kibble in the bowl and let them have at it for a week.”

I laugh, and my smile lingers. “So, what about you?”

“What about me?”

“What are you doing this summer?”

“Besides converting surfers into skaters?” He scratches his head again. “You know, now that I think about it, I’m basically a skateboarding evangelist.”

“Yeah, besides that.”

“Well, I just graduated, but I think I mentioned, I’m going to hike the PCT—the Pacific Crest Trail. So I’m going to take a year off before college to train and work to save money.”

“What’s the job?” I ask.

“Skateboarding evangelist.” Lincoln somehow manages to keep a straight face.

“That come with benefits?”

“Excellent benefits. I actually work at a nature store—you know, hiking gear, trail food, that sort of stuff.”

“Sounds appropriate.”

“Yeah, it’s—”

Before Lincoln has a chance to continue, Nash cuts him off. “We’re ready!”

All three boys walk toward us. Parker and Nash try to maintain serious faces, but they keep breaking into giggles.

“So?” Lincoln asks. “What’s it going to be?”

Austin says, “After careful deliberation, we’ve come to the unanimous decision of naming—”

“Lincoln wins!” Parker and Nash scream.

“—Lincoln our victor,” Austin finishes. He rolls his eyes and smiles at the boys.

I take a deep breath, sucking in all my pride along with it, and say, “Nice job.”

“The bet,” he prods.

“Fine.” I sigh and then quickly mutter, “I admit skateboarding is just as difficult as surfing.”

“Ah, thank you, gracious loser,” he responds. “But seriously, you should feel pretty good about yourself right now. I’ve been around a lot of different skate parks over the years, and I’ve never seen someone learn so quickly.”

“Skate parks?” I ask.

“Remember, I wasn’t born here either. You’re not the only Nebraska transplant. Austin and I have only been in this fine state for two years.”

Only two years? I already knew he wasn’t born here, but Lincoln glides around this place like he’s the goddamn mayor—like he appeared first, and then the world grew up around him. I just assumed he’d lived here for most of his life. I’m about to ask more, but then Austin steps forward. “Lincoln, we’ve got to go. Dad wants us home early today, remember?”

“Damn. Right.” Lincoln turns to me and hesitates, his eyes sweeping over me, lingering longer than normal. “I’ll see you later, Anise.”

My cheeks flush. Don’t ask me why. My cheeks just seem to do that around him. “Right,” I say. “See you later.”

He skates away, then flips his board and comes back toward me. “Hey.” He slides to a stop. “You should come to the park again tomorrow.”

“I should?” I ask.

He nods with an easy smile, a smile that warms my body slowly, like when the sun first peeks out, promising a day of pure heat. “Definitely you should. Earlier the better, okay?”

“Umm, okay,” I say.

And then he skates away a second time. Parker and Nash come up behind me. “That was fun,” Parker says.

“Yeah,” Nash agrees. “He’s, like, way cooler than you.”

“Awesome, you guys,” I say. “Thanks so much.”

“Come on, let’s go skate,” Nash says.

For a second, I’m actually tempted. I was so close to nailing that kickflip, I’m convinced that one more crack at it will be a success. Though I’d never admit it to Lincoln, it’s invigorating to learn a totally new sport, getting my body to move in a completely new way. But then I glance over, and Emery’s rooted on the same spot of the bench, and I decide my presence is more needed there.

“You guys go on,” I tell the boys. After they skate off, I walk over and sit down next to Emery, and even though she has on her headphones, I say, “Hey.”