Learning to Swim(24)

“I thought you said he was just trying to be nice,” I shouted back to her.

“Well, he might have been in the beginning.” She walked into the living room. “But I think all the attention he's been giving you is more than just him being nice.”

My toes were tingling at the mere mention of him wanting more. “What about Mora?”

“I wouldn't worry about her. From what happened today, it's obvious Mora's a replica of her mother. And Keith,” she said, nodding out the window as Keith drove past on his mower, “is too nice and smart to end up with a woman like that.”

Alice had been furious when I told her about the whole Mora-trying-to-get-me-fired thing. So furious, in fact, that I almost wished I hadn't told her. She'd asked me to spend the evening at her house and make a Mora voodoo doll out of a pincushion, which was both funny and scary at the same time (because I really, really wanted to do it).

She put her arm around me and gave me a good squeeze. “He's probably going through a hot sex phase. God knows I've been there!”

I elbowed Alice in the ribs. “Ew! Thanks for the visual!”

She started laughing so hard she went into another coughing fit.

I stepped away from the window, worried that Keith had seen me staring at him and Alice guffawing like a hyena. “It's weird that he's over here mowing your yard, isn't it? I mean, it's so nice of him.” I said this partially to convince myself that Keith's mowing Alice's yard was largely due to the fact that he found me oh-so-irresistible.

Alice sat down on the sofa and put her feet up on the ottoman. “Not really.” (She completely missed the cue where she was supposed to jump in and tell me again how much he secretly liked me!) “Keith's just a good person, and that's what good people do.”

Suddenly, I heard the lawn mower's engine cut out. I stepped back to the window just in time to see Keith pick up his shirt and use it to wipe the sweat from his brow.

“That was fast.” I gulped as I stared at his incredibly toned torso.

“Go on, Stef,” Alice said, nodding toward outside. “Now's your chance.”

As I stepped outside, I felt a flutter of nerves, the same feeling I had in fifth grade when I had to recite the line “Papa, the Wells Fargo wagon is a-comin’!” in a (very lame) school performance of The Music Man.

“Hey.” Keith greeted me with his signature gaspinducing smile.

I took a deep breath. “Do you want something to drink?” I asked.

“Thanks, but I have some water.” He hopped off the mower and took a swig from the bottle that he had kept in his messenger bag.

I nervously glanced toward the house as my mind went blank. What was I supposed to say next? “Thanks for mowing,” I said mechanically as I squashed a mosquito on my arm.

Suave. Especially the part when I flicked the dead mosquito away and rubbed the blood off with my thumb.

“No problem,” he said. “Tell Alice I'm happy to help out whenever.”

I wrung my hands together nervously. “Herbert Lewis usually does it.” He was the freckly-faced seventh grader who lived in the apartment below mine. “He's visiting his dad in Virginia. Do you know Herbert?” I asked.

“Um—I don't think so.” Keith took off his hat and shook his head a bit. Then something amazing happened. A little bead of his sweat landed on my shoulder!

Quite honestly, I lost every shred of composure I had maintained up until that moment. I could feel that my leg was bobbing up and down just like Barbie's had been earlier that day, and I began tugging at the strap of my tank top that was closest to where his sweat had landed, in a vain effort to touch his fluids. My end of the conversation was totally shot.

There was a moment of silence as Keith glanced around Alice's yard, as if admiring his handiwork. He also seemed unaware of the fact that I wanted to tackle him and roll around in his handiwork. “So were you going to level this whole thing with a push mower?”

I nodded.

“Wow,” he said, impressed. “It's got to be, like, what? At least two acres, right?”

“I guess,” I said. Two acres. Two hundred acres. Keith McKnight's sweat was on my body!

“Not too many places around here have this much property.”

“That's because the houses are so big.”

“True.” His beautiful eyes darted across the creek to his house. He shook his head. “Big and awful.”

“I like your house, Keith.” For some reason, I took a step toward him. “It's very… palacelike.”

Ick.

“Thanks,” Keith said, and smirked. “I shouldn't complain, though. At least it's big enough for me to not have to deal with anyone that much.”

“I wouldn't know what that's like,” I said. “My mom and I pretty much live on top of each other. I liked our apartment before this one a lot better. The dining area was separate from the living room.” As I stared into Keith's eyes, I could feel a smile creeping across my face that was not even the slightest bit secret.

“Where was that?” he asked.

“In Hagerstown.”

“Hagerstown?”

“It's on the other side of the state, near West Virginia.”