Lie to Me (an OddRocket title) (10 page)

"I happened to be a Boy Scout in a former life," he said, smiling. His sandy-blond hair stuck out like he'd slept on it funny. He didn't look goofy, though. He looked tousled and hot in a messy way.

I stared at my knees to keep from looking at him and thinking about our "almost kiss."

"Lucky for you I have actual Band-Aids in this thing or I would have had to improvise with gauze and duct tape. You can't keep a good Boy Scout down."

I smiled.

"No laugh?" he said as he got to work. "Is this mic on?" His hands felt warm against my legs as he wiped down my cuts with a wet rag. "Sorry, this part may sting for a second. You ready?"

"Bring it on."

He cringed and I inhaled sharply as he poured some liquid over my knees. Little bubbles burned and formed in my cuts. I felt a sharp sting that quickly faded into pulsing warmth.

"You okay?"

"Uh huh."

"High threshold for pain?" he asked.

"I think I'm numb," I laughed.

RD glanced at me, concern in his eyes. I didn't mean to say anything so melodramatic, but I'd meant it. My legs hurt, but it was as if the pain wasn't actually engaging with my brain in a way that made sense.

RD sat down across from me and put his first aid kit away. "You said you wanted to talk." He looked at me as if he really cared, as if he wanted to push aside the curtain and see the truth inside me.

"I'm fine," I whispered.

He raised an eyebrow and leaned forward. With his hands on his knees, there wasn't that much space between us on the narrow boat. "That so." His voice was soft.

"Maybe not fine."

"I thought so."

"Not fine at all."

He nodded. "You look like a girl who needs a break."

"Do I ever."

"How about we work for a bit, then talk later?"

"Perfect."

He reached out and squeezed my hand. He looked me in the eyes before quickly turning and clearing his throat. "Technically, this is your first day working on Kismet."

"Kismet?"

"I didn't name her, but it's bad luck to change a boat's name."

"What's it mean?"

"Destiny. Fate." He wrinkled his nose while he looked at me. "So… I don't mean to be a big a-hole, but you are really not what I'd call a fully functional manual laborer."

"I can work." I stood, immediately panicked. I didn't want him to send me home.

"Sit down.” He winked. "I got this." He opened the hatch and went below deck, coming back with a six-pack and a cardboard box of brass hardware. He put the beer in a small cooler. "That is for me and this is for you." He handed me the box and a small jar of polish. "And rags. Your job is to make this stuff shine." He took one of the cans out of his cooler and popped the top. It hissed. "I bought that box at a garage sale in Seattle. This old guy had all this sailing shit, no idea it was worth a fortune."

"I can polish it," I said, eagerly taking the rag and dipping it into the jar.

"I know it. You're good," he said, winking. RD turned on a radio and walked around the side of the boat while the music played.

I knew then, for sure, that RD had sent me the text message that night. As I sat on the bench polishing the brass, watching the bright yellow shine come back in each weathered piece, RD sat on the bow sanding the varnish. From my seat, I could see flakes peeling away, a fine dust filling the air. I enjoyed the feeling of the sun on my skin, the sound of the waves lapping against the boat. The marina was quiet; most of the boats were owned by locals who hardly sailed. There was traffic on the water, but no one was stopping on San Sebastian to do anything but gas up at the self-serve station just down from the harbor. I wanted to sit here all day, but I knew that would mean lying to Mom about where I'd been and she'd probably hear about my bike wreck. After about an hour, I'd finished polishing all the pieces in my box.

"RD." I stood. My legs felt so much better, my tears gone. "I should probably get going."

"Yeah?" He jumped from the box over the hatch near me, the whole boat rocking. He threw his empty can toward a red bucket sitting on the dock as if he was shooting a basket. He made it. "And the crowd goes wild. Did I ever tell you I was a basketball star in high school?"

"Nope."

"Well, I was. I was a star. The world was my oyster." He looked wistful. “Anyway, you outta here?"

"Yeah, I can't do a whole lot and I should get going. I swear I'll arrive uninjured next time. And I finished polishing everything."

"Awesome," he said, jumping off the bridge. He picked up the box, taking out a set of handles. "Man, these will look nice in the galley."

"Where's the galley?" I asked.

"Let me show you the rest of the boat before you go." He nodded toward the hatch. "I can show you the lay of the land real quick."

I don't remember saying "yes" or "no." I do remember looking over my shoulder to be sure no one was watching before
I followed him below deck

I stepped down the wooden ladder. RD stood at the bottom, his head almost reaching the ceiling of the boat. Sunlight filled the cabin. It was much simpler than I'd imagined. Blue bunks the size of twin beds on either side of the boat, a narrow walkway between with a teak floor. Behind the stairs, a galley with a small sink and cutting board lined one side and, on the other, there was a small desk that looked like a place to read and plot nautical charts.

Waves quietly sloshed against the side of the boat, rocking it gently from side to side. The room smelled of wood and salt and faintly of beer. Standing at the foot of the stairs, I was totally aware of the deep water inches beneath my feet.

"Welcome to paradise," RD said, grinning. "Here, I'll sit. It's kind of crowded." He sat on one of the bunks just as a wake hit the boat, tossing me forward. I tumbled toward him, landing half on top of him.

"Hey, there," he said, looking up at me, his hands on my waist, my face inches from his. My cheek had brushed against his mouth when I'd fallen.

"Sorry," I said.

"No worries, you'll get your sea legs." He released his hands and I slid off his lap sitting beside him. He was so warm, so close. "This is nice down here."

"Living the dream," he said. Then in a much more somber tone, he added, "No, seriously. I am."

"Is this your dream?" I asked, looking at the cramped quarters. At closer look there was a small stack of dirty dishes in the sink and a few beer cans in a plastic bag he'd wrapped around the back of the ladder.

"Isn't it every boy's dream to grow up and live on a boat?" he said, nodding toward the stairs. "I've got everything I need. A gourmet kitchen and library. The drawers under the sink are going to get all the fixtures you polished."

All of the cabinetry in the corner was unfinished. When I breathed deeply, I thought I detected the faint smell of sawdust. "Did you make all those?"

"Yep," RD said, rubbing his hands together. "Wood shop was not a total loss. I've been working on this boat pretty much since I graduated from high school. It was my dad's. He died when I was a junior at the UW. I told myself that I'd fix her up, make her seaworthy."

"Did he sail?"

RD laughed. "Oh, yes. He didn’t just sail. He raced. Raced and won. Two very important details."

"Did you race?"

"No, no way." RD laughed before lifting a beer to his mouth and taking a sip. I didn't realize he'd brought a can downstairs with him. "Anyway, that's the tour. Enough of my sad story."

"I like hearing it," I said. "Makes me think less about my own stuff."

"Yeah?" RD took another sip. "You sure you aren't feeling sorry for me?"

"Pretty sure."

He grinned and toasted me. "Yes, you are. Nice girl feeling bad for the old college burn-out on the dock."

"No," I protested, but he was right. I wanted to comfort him. There was something so wounded and broken about him.

"You want to talk about anything?" he asked, his voice softer. “No pressure, only if it makes you feel better."

"She's sick," I said. And I told him about my conversation with Mom that morning, about how scared I was that something awful was going to happen to her and how I had to keep everything secret from Addie. I told him how Aunt Lucy was going to come to the island and I didn't know what that meant. I even told him how Nick tried to help me in the parking lot and how I'd wanted to slap him. The only thing I didn't tell him was how I couldn't stop thinking about the night before, the moment when I'd thought he was going to kiss me.

"You feel better?" RD asked when I finished talking.

I inhaled deeply and gave myself a moment to breathe. "Yes," I said. My chest didn't feel as tight anymore and I no longer felt like tears were building up and ready to spill.

"Okay, so, good day’s work. You aren't bad for injured crew.” He turned and smiled at me, placing his hand on the cushion close to mine. We were so close to touching. “You sure you want to come back and help me out some more?"

"Yes. Absolutely." More than anything, I wanted to put my hand on top of his and feel him touch me again. Not just for me, but to let RD know that I understood that he was sad, too. We sat like that for a few seconds, my hand close to his, the boat rocking and the sound of clanking halyards filling the air like a hundred wind chimes.

"Cassie," RD said. "You are good and I'm not. You gotta understand that.”

"I don't believe you."

"I'm trouble."

"I'm pretty messed up myself, too," I said, managing to laugh.

My whole body felt electric. I stared at his hand and felt him move. He turned toward me and touched my chin with his fingertip and, for a second, I thought he was going to lift my face up just like he had in the car. But he didn't. He just looked at me and smiled and then he slowly brushed my hair across my forehead.

"I pick this dock to escape everything and then you just appear. How did that happen?"

"I don't know."

"Kismet?"

"Cassie! Cassie!" A voice on the dock carried below deck. Addie. I felt RD tense up and my heartbeat raced, beating so loudly I could feel it in my whole body. He jumped away from me as if I was toxic. I felt like we'd been caught, even though we'd only been talking.

"It's my sister," I said. "I don't know what she's doing here. I should go."

He nodded and looked at the hatch. "Why don't I go up first," he said. "You can use the head if you need to. I'll tell your sister… what's her name?"

"Addie."

"I'll tell her you'll be right up."

"Okay."

"We probably shouldn't hang out down here anymore."

"Okay," I said. I felt so breathless and nervous. He'd touched my face. Nothing had happened. I had no reason to feel guilty, so why did I feel like we'd done something wrong?

"Hey, don't look so freaked out,” RD said. “You're good. No laws broken. Everything's going to be okay."

When RD spoke, I felt like he could, somehow, realign the planets in my universe. And in that moment, looking at RD, the way he smiled at me, I felt so lucky that he'd found me. I felt like he'd chosen me to help him because he could see that we needed each other. We had a connection and I knew that something had almost happened between us and I liked that feeling. Like standing at the edge of a cliff and looking down the rock face knowing that, if I jumped, I would fly and not fall.

RD opened the hatch and climbed up the steps. The flash of sunlight from above looked so out of place in the cool darkness all around me. It seemed impossible that the world outside had continued while we'd been below deck.

Everything's going to be okay
, I repeated. Taking a deep breath, I tried to will my heartbeat to slow down.
Everything's going to be okay
. I believed RD. I believed every one of his lies.

I waited for a minute before I stood up. I strained, listening for my sister's voice, but there was nothing, nothing but the quiet touch of the waves against the boat. I went to the bathroom to fix my hair and to make sure I looked okay. There was a small mirror over a super-tiny sink. It was about as big as a closet. Looking at my reflection, I could see a few new freckles. I had gloss in my pocket and I took it out, slowly painting the shimmering pink over my lips. It made me think of Priya. I had never thought about it until now, but we used the same pink lip gloss.

Above deck, RD sat on the bench, legs stretched out. "False alarm," he said, grinning. "She's not here."

Confused, I looked around for that signature red, curly hair. "Trust me. She's here. I heard her." I scanned the docks, catching a glimpse of Addie's head between boats on the next dock over. Addie jumped up and down when she spotted me and ran, even though running on the docks was a major
don't
in Mom's book of rules.

"Found her," I said. Addie's feet thundered as she approached.

"Where were you?" she gasped when she arrived hands upon her knees. "I walked by here like a million times."

"Never mind," I said. "We should get out of here." The less Addie knew about RD, the better. The last thing I needed was for her to mention to Mom that I'd been hanging out on some boat. I knew Mom wanted to give me space today, but that would leave me wide open for an interrogation.

"Mom told me to come get you. I saw your bike. Ew, your knees."

Blood had dried through the gauze patch in a round, brownish-red circle. "I crashed earlier. Is Mom here?" I swallowed, my stomach turning, as I looked up the dock, terrified that I'd see Mom striding in our direction.

"No," Addie said, looking at RD. "Can I take your picture?" She'd already raised the camera and snapped a picture before RD had a chance to answer. "I'm going to be a photographer this summer."

"What’s with the paparazzi?" RD said, holding his hands up pretending to hide.

Addie giggled. "You’re funny."

"How'd you get here then?" I asked feeling more and more annoyed.

"I rode my bike, too. Duh." She took a few steps back on the dock so she could get a better picture of the boat. "Cool boat. It's pretty old, though. You should paint it red."

RD's cell phone rang. He glanced at the screen and something flashed across his face. "I gotta take this." He jumped over the bridge and walked along the bow toward the edge of the rail.