The Best Possible Answer(14)

She looks at Evan, and then takes a deep breath. “Fine.”

“What if he doesn’t show up?” Vanessa asks.

“We all get our money back,” Evan says.

“Then I hope he doesn’t show up,” Sammie whispers to me.

There are only fifteen minutes to go.

*

Sammie is the winner.

At nine minutes before closing, Professor Cox arrives, this time wearing a thick black robe.

“Oh, thank God,” Sammie mutters under her breath.

I take Professor Cox’s ID card and scan him in.

He signs his name.

I wait for him to say something.

But he doesn’t.

He just walks in.

Evan walks over to the pool to test the pH of the water. Sammie and I step out of our little room to watch. We wait for Professor Cox to throw off his robe. To walk down to the deep end. To dive in. To do his thing.

But instead, he heads to the shallow end.

He takes off his robe and jumps in.

But this time it’s feet first.

And this time it’s delicate, deliberate, slow.

His back is to Virgo, and he’s hunched over, like he’s holding his stomach.

I can see the splashing, and I can hear some strange moaning, but I can’t really figure out what it is.

Then, I hear it—the barking and yelping—and Virgo is jumping out of his chair, running toward Professor Cox. “Hey! No dogs! Come out of the pool, please! Now!”

It’s Professor Cox’s Chihuahua, paddling around in dog-size goggles and red swimming trunks that match Professor Cox’s.

At first, Professor Cox ignores Virgo, just lets his Chihuahua swim into the deep end, past the few remaining old women, who start yelping right along with the dog.

Evan drops his pH gear and runs over. He’s crouching down and yelling out, but Professor Cox doesn’t respond.

Finally, Professor Cox catches the dog, climbs out without saying a word to either Virgo or Evan. He throws on his robe and treks past us and back upstairs, that poor creature dripping and shivering under his arm.

After they calm the old ladies and clear out the pool for final closing, Evan and Virgo come back to the office.

“Nice going, Viviana.” Evan gives me a very serious look. “First day on the job and you’re already letting wild animals into the water.”

My heart drops. “Oh God, I’m so sorry. Am I in trouble?” I don’t want to be fired on my very first day. My mom would kill me.

“No.” Virgo laughs. “You’re not in trouble.”

Evan’s face changes to a smile. “Come on. I was just kidding.”

I feel bad, though. I like making trouble, but I don’t like being in trouble. “Okay, but really, I’m sorry. I promise I’ll pay better attention next time.”

Virgo laughs. “You’ve got to stop apologizing so much.”

And then Evan puts his hand on my shoulder, and every muscle in my body melts. “Come on, it’s funny.”

I force out a laugh. “Yeah,” I say. “Real funny.”

He’s right. It’s nothing. It’s a dog. It’s silliness and stupidity.

But then I catch Sammie’s sad stare. She’s focusing on Evan’s hand on me. She’s not laughing. She’s not having a good time.

I quickly shrug off his shoulder. “Yeah. Okay. You’re right. I’m fine. It’s nothing.”

It may just be silliness and stupidity to him, but if I’m not careful, it could turn into another fine mess.

*

During dinner, I tell Mila and my mom the story of Professor Cox and his dog, which makes Mila giggle with that deep belly laugh I love.

My mom doesn’t laugh. She just shakes her head. “I know who you’re talking about,” she says. “Harold. I know him.”

“You know him?” Mila and I yell in unison.

“Not personally. He and I have only exchanged a few words. Sammie’s mom knows him better. I’ve seen them talking to each other.”

“About what?”

“I couldn’t say. I have no idea.” But the way she says it makes me think she does, and whatever it is about, she doesn’t approve.

Mila takes a guess. “Maybe they’re secretly in love with each other and are going to get married!”

“Doubtful.” I laugh.

I grab my phone from the kitchen counter and text Sammie. Your mom knows Professor Cox. Ask him about his—

But before I can finish my text, my mom snaps at me. “What is that thing doing at the dinner table?”

She’s talking about my phone. Ever since the Dean incident, she’s become the enemy of all devices, particularly if I’m near any. After some deep negotiations, we finally agreed that I could keep my computer for schoolwork and that I could have a cheap twenty-dollar replacement phone that takes only calls and texts—no apps, no online photos. My mom adds minutes each month and checks my usage, but at least she didn’t completely cut off my lifeline to the world.

I don’t answer her. I just slide my phone back on the counter and take a bite of my chicken.

Mila slides down into her chair. “Can we please have one night when we don’t argue?” She looks like she’s going to cry.

I reach over for her hand and look at my mom. My mom keeps her eyes down at her plate, ignores Mila’s question.