Drifting away from the empty room, I meandered through the passages of the Locc until I heard my uncle’s voice. Curious, I slowed and softened my steps until I found him standing in frontof a breaker box beside my third-favorite Gulf Shores resident, Ireland.
I had a feeling she would not find it amusing that my time with Miss Lenny this morning had almost punted her into fourth place.
She had a tool belt strapped around her waist and was gesturing angrily to the open breaker box while Uncle Gil listened intently before responding to whatever she was saying. Then he leaned over and flipped a couple of switches, and though I couldn’t be sure, since their backs were to me, she seemed to sigh in relief.
Uncle Gil leaned over and pulled out the frame he’d made as an example during class and offered it to her. She looked at it for a long moment before accepting it. He left a few moments later, but Ireland just stood there, her head bowed and the frame cradled in her hands.
My phone vibrated in my pocket, breaking me from my spell, and I opened the message.
Vinh
Any chance you can come help with the Fat Tuesday crowd tomorrow? I just talked to Ari, and she said she would help too. Might be easier to come back today so you don’t have to drive in the dark early tomorrow. Let me know.
My brother. So eloquent, even in text.
Me
Of course. I’ll text you when we leave. Love you.
Vinh
You too. Be safe.
“You like to lurk, don’t you, Liem Lott?”
I didn’t startle at the sudden voice, as I’d actually picked up on her soft steps and subtle lavender scent before she spoke.
I had a bit of experience with prickly introverts with charisma they wished they didn’t carry, so my shifting subtly into plain view and seeming disinterested had been a bit of a trap.
“Hello, Ire. I’ve really missed you, especially as you never texted me as you promised you would.”
She gave me a blank stare, pieces of her medium-length chestnut hair that had fallen from her ponytail framing her face. “There was no promise.”
I smiled at her. “Sure, but we can rectify that now. Perhaps you gave me the wrong number. Though, if you don’t actually want me to have it, that’s fine, too, of course.”
Studying me for a long moment, she held out her hand. “Phone.”
Complying, I handed it over and waited for a moment as she typed on it, and then her own phone beeped from her tool belt. She handed mine back to me before removing hers from its pocket without looking, then raised it to me to show the new text she’d received from an unknown number. “Happy?”
I took an exaggerated deep breath. “On dry land, safe and sound now. Thank you.”
Her intense stare roamed over me. “Not that it’s my business, but what happened to your face?”
It’d only been a few days since the parade, and I’d all but forgotten my minor injuries, my eyebrow not even needing a bandage anymore and my palms having healed quickly.
Flying onto a curb had hardly been the headline of that day.
Her phone beeped again, this time with three short sounds, and her poker face remained in place. “Out of time, so just textme the story,” she said but then, with a shrug, amended, “Or don’t.”
There was a tug at the corner of her mouth, so I thought she was teasing. Which meant she was going to be my friend. Clearing her throat, she said matter-of-factly, “Gotta dash,” before striding down the hallway.
She scanned her card at the door to unlock the exit and pushed the bar to open it, then scooped something up outside. She glanced over her shoulder at me, and with a brisk wave, she turned back to the day, tossed her longboard on the ground, pushed off with her foot, and literally rolled away.
The door clanged shut, and in her wake, I was left feeling almost… uncool.
I watched the door for several moments before turning and heading back toward the main doors of the Locc.
Jillie was sitting behind the reception desk, seeming more relaxed now that her day was winding down. She glanced up as I came to a stop in front of the desk and gave me a warm, genuine smile. “Hello, Mr. Lott. It sounds like class was successful today.”
