The Best Possible Answer(13)

“Excellent.” She leans over the counter and kisses me on the cheek. “Let the flirting commence.”

Evan returns to the counter. “We’ve got a pretty decent pot going. Virgo’s sitting out, but everyone else is in.”

“I’m in, too,” I say, and I pull the money from my wallet. “Two bucks each, right?”

“Yes!” Evan yells. “She’s in!”

And so it begins.

This silly game and our wait for Professor Cox to return.

The job isn’t quite awesome yet, but it’s interesting, at the very least. Much better than the McDonald’s alternative. I’m surrounded by people who aren’t judging me on my past or scrutinizing my future life goals.

Evan puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes tight. “We have a game!”

His hand rests there for a good long moment. I don’t want him to let go.

Sammie kicks me again.

I shrug off Evan’s hand and try to send a psychic message back: He’s all yours. I don’t want any more trouble. I want to do right by you and everyone else in my life. I just want to be good again.





College Admissions Tip #3

College admissions boards seek well-rounded students who show an investment in a sport or an activity where you have learned something, developed a skill, and perhaps even contributed to the group in new and meaningful ways.


I win the first round after guessing that Professor Cox will return in twenty-nine minutes, which is only one minute off from when he actually returns. I win eight bucks, and Evan sends me the happiest smile. “Aren’t you glad you decided to play?”

I don’t answer. I refuse to flirt back.

Marquis and Vanessa join in on the second round, and Marquis wins. Thirty-four minutes, three minutes off. He wins fourteen bucks. The others are down four.

Evan finally throws Sammie a thumbs-up from his post on deck when Professor Cox arrives thirty-one minutes later, which she guesses right on the dot.

Professor Cox repeats his pool-dip routine six times after that.

Just as the sun starts to duck behind the Bennett Tower, we’ve each won one round, except for Evan and Sammie, who have both won two. Of course, she’s incredibly pleased.

Each time Professor Cox comes down, he’s in a new bathing suit.

Once, while Evan is hanging out in the office, he attempts conversation with him—“Hey, Professor Cox, are you teaching summer classes?”—but Professor Cox ignores him.

Each time, there’s no eye contact, no interaction.

But then, on what is the twelfth time that day (twenty-eight minutes, my win), Professor Cox talks to us.

Well, not really to us, more like to himself, or to no one in particular.

That seems to break the seal on his weirdness. I swear I hear him say “Didya ever eat a wallaby? Tasty little suckers.” And then he breaks into a hoarse fit of hysterics, his bony, bare shoulders pumping up and down.

Evan isn’t here to hear it, and I’m wondering about all those fascinating conversations he had with him last year.

Professor Cox does his thing and then leaves.

Sammie takes two more dollars from her wad of cash and slams it on the counter. “I say twenty-eight minutes until he returns.”

Our shift ends at four, but we stay so that we can continue playing. I don’t want the stupid game to end, and I don’t want to work at McDonald’s. I want to be here, sweating in this cabana/office, next to my best friend, placing stupid bets on an odd man. It’s going to be a long, hot summer, but I like feeling like I belong to a group of people who accept me just as I am, even if they don’t really know me at all.

*

“Only eighteen minutes until closing,” Vanessa says. “There’s no way he’s coming down again.”

“Oh, he’s coming,” Evan says.”Put your money down, people! The final bet of the day is about to close!”

The pool has pretty much cleared out. It’s near 7:00 P.M. and most of the families are gone, having showered and packed up. All the lifeguards, except for Virgo, who’s on duty in his chair, are gathered around us in the office.

“He’s not coming!” Vanessa laughs. “Marquis, do you really think he’s coming?”

“I doubt it, but I don’t want to give up hope, either. I’ll say twelve minutes.”

“I call sixteen minutes,” Virgo yells from the deck. He’s finally succumbed to the lure of the game. “He’ll be here!”

“I’m with Virgo,” I say. “He’s going to be here. Put down fourteen minutes for me. But I’m raising the stakes. I’m putting in ten.”

Evan laughs. “Baller! Ten bucks! I’m in!”

Vanessa steps back. “I need the money for gas. I’m out.”

Marquis throws a ten-dollar bill into the pile. “I’m in.”

“Ten?” Sammie snaps a sharp look at me. “I can’t do ten—” Sammie’s family struggles even more with money than mine. Her mom inherited their apartment from her family, but that was before Sammie’s dad died. Sammie’s mom, a nurse, is always taking extra shifts to make ends meet.

“You don’t have to place a bet,” I whisper. “Vanessa’s out. You can sit this one out, too.”