Beat the Band (Swim the Fly #2)(41)

The red wooden door opens and a warm clean-laundry smell wafts out. Helen is wearing formfitting powder-blue sweats. It’s weird seeing her away from school like this. Standing there, head tilted to the side, her body framed in the door.

The same electric chill I got at the track dances across my skin, traveling up my back and down my arms.

“Hey,” she says with a smile. “You’re early.”

“Yeah, sorry. Do you want me to come back later?”

“No, it’s fine. I just got back from cross-country, though. I need to take a shower. Would you like some juice while you wait?”

I zero in on her full, moist lips. Watch them form each one of the words.

My breath is shaky. Okay, what the hell’s going on? Get a hold of yourself, dude. You are after bigger game here. Prudence is the prize. Prudence and her hot-as-hell friends. Let’s not forget that.

“Sure. That’d be great,” I say.

“Come on in.” She steps aside.

“My bike.” I gesture behind me.

“Oh.” Helen glances past me. “The garage is unlocked.”

I wheel my bike over the lawn, by the windows that look into the kitchen, and lift the heavy garage door. Helen’s got the cleanest garage in the universe. Everything’s in order. Rakes and shovels leaned up against the back wall. Clay pots stacked in the corner. Garden hose perfectly wound and hung on a hook. Makes my garage look like a junkyard.

Normally I’d just drop my bike on the floor, but a garage this clean calls for use of the kickstand, for sure.

I return to the front porch and follow Helen inside. Everything’s just as spotless as the garage.

“My mom wants to meet you,” Helen says.

Cool. Her mom’s around. This could turn out well, actually. I need her e-mail address and signature. They’re two of the biggest hurdles I have to leap. If I can knock those out this afternoon and get a few more questions answered, I’ll be golden.

“You’re the first boy I’ve ever brought home,” Helen continues as we make our way through the kitchen. “She’s excited. But don’t worry. I told her not to be.”

Never brought a boy home? Really?

“Hi, Mom,” Helen calls out as we walk down the hall.

We enter the showroom-ready den and there’s Mrs. Harriwick, sitting on the couch, a laptop on her legs, wearing jeans and a button-up man’s shirt. She looks way younger than my mom. Hair short, blond-streaked, cut in a swoop across her forehead. Hazel eyes just like her daughter’s.

“Well, hello there.” Mrs. Harriwick looks up from her computer. “You must be Cooper,” she says with a half smile. “Just give me a second here while I finish this up.” She peers at her computer, her fingers flying across the keys. “I’m afraid I’m a bit of a World of Warcraft addict.”

Helen looks at the floor.

Mrs. Harriwick laughs, a few more clicks on the keyboard. “Could be worse things, right? Passes the time. Do you play, Cooper?”

“No. My friend Sean does, though. Apparently he’s like some kind of level eighty Dwarf Warrior with a ton of gold and legendary items.”

“Really?” She sits up straighter, excited. Like I just told her they both have the same birthday. “What’s his game name?”

“I don’t remember. Dorfwit or Hoofchomp or something.”

Mrs. Harriwick places her computer, still open and running, on a side table. “Well, tell him if he ever wants to join up for a quest, I’m Pacheleine, a level seventy Night Elf Hunter.”

“Sure. Okay.” I glance over at Helen, who is blushing.

Mrs. Harriwick pats the couch next to her. “Would you like to have a seat?”

Helen shakes her head. “We have to get to work, Mom.”

Mrs. Harriwick smiles. “Ah, yes. Helen tells me you two are working together on a Health project.”

“Yeah,” I say. “We have to present a lesson to the class in a couple of months. Thanks for letting us get together at your house.”

“Please.” She brushes my thank you aside with her hand. “It’s nice to have some male energy around for a change. We’re all girls here. Helen, me, and the cat. So, what’s your project on? Maybe I can help. I don’t know if Helen told you or not, but I’m a dental hygienist. I know a few things about health.”

“It’s . . . um . . .” I feel my face get hot. I look over at Helen for some help. Then back to Mrs. Harriwick. “We didn’t get to choose or anything.”

“Birth control,” Helen says, saving me. “We have to discuss the different kinds and their effectiveness.”

Mrs. Harriwick nods approvingly. “Now that is something I wish they’d have taught us in high school. Not that I don’t love my girl. God knows, I don’t have a clue what I’d do without her. She keeps the house so clean. And she’s become quite the little chef since I haven’t been able to do much cooking. But she was an accident. There’s no denying that.” She laughs wistfully, staring off into what I assume is the past.

I look over at Helen, her cheeks flushing even more than before.

Mrs. Harriwick shakes off the memories and smiles. “A happy accident, of course. Just one I wish I could have pushed back a few years. You know. Until I’d sowed a few more oats.” She exhales loudly. “No regrets, right? Anyway. Nice to meet you, Cooper. Help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge. There’s not much, I’m sorry to say. Haven’t been able to get to the market the last little while. But if it’s there, it’s yours.”