Chapter 25 #2
It takes her a few efficient swipes and searches before she informs me, “Looks like you don’t need a college degree, just a high-school diploma.”
“That’s good,” I say stiffly, my eyes darting to all her trophies, to her diplomas on the top shelf. Something in me wilts.
She keeps scrolling, oblivious. “There are some physical requirements—push-ups, sit-ups, running—but that shouldn’t be an issue.
You’re…” She pauses. Her voice catches slightly.
“You’re very physically fit.” Her gaze slips to my chest and sticks there for a second too long.
She swallows. Color blooms in her cheeks.
Just like that, something in me straightens. A sliver of pride returns, and for one stupid, reckless second, I wonder what would happen if I reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. If I rolled over and kissed her again. Would she let me? Would she like it?
Instead, I stare at the ceiling and try to play it cool.
“Yeah, well,” I mutter, “push-ups I can do.”
She hums in agreement, her eyes back on the phone. “The last thing is a test. The ASVAB.”
“The what?” I lean in to see where she points on the screen, and my shoulder brushes hers. We both stiffen but don’t move away.
“The Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery. You need a score of at least 32.”
I pull away and flop back onto my pillow. “Well, that idea was fun while it lasted.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I’ll fail that test. I’m terrible at standardized tests, always have been.”
Helen sits up straight and glares at me, her eyebrows in a straight line. “That’s ridiculous. You don’t even know what’s on it yet.”
I sink into the mattress, wishing it would swallow me whole. Defeat swirls around me, suffocating, so heavy it makes my shoulders slump and my heart sink. “Doesn’t matter. I can’t do it.”
“Sure you can,” she argues. “You just need to study.”
The weight of the day—her mom’s sickness, her father hating me, that kiss—it all hits me at once. Frustrated and overwhelmed, I snap, “No, I can’t. I’m not like you, Helen. Not like Gwen or my brother Brandon. There’s a reason why I haven’t graduated from college. That I don’t have a career.”
“What reason?” Her voice rises to match mine.
“Because I’m dumb.” The words rip out of me, raw and ugly. “Okay? Is that what you want to hear? It’s the truth. I get by on charm and luck. That’s it. Not intelligence.”
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!
” She’s practically yelling now. It’s a good thing her parents’ bedroom is a floor above us.
If her father heard how angry she sounds right now, he’d be charging in here ready to end me.
He’s a doctor. He probably knows a hundred ways to kill me and make it look like an accident.
Helen clutches the sheet next to me, crushing it in her fist. “Do you remember when you were teaching me about the surfboard? When you explained how it works?”
“Yeah?” I say, confused how a test and a surfboard could possibly relate to each other.
“You were explaining physics to me. Flow dynamics. Do you realize that?”
I scoff. “I was not. I was just telling you how the design of the board affects how it flows through the water…” I trail off.
“And?” she prompts.
“And that’s the same thing as flow dynamics?” I end lamely, wrinkling my brow.
A decisive nod from her. “Yes. See? You can learn if you apply yourself.”
“I just know that stuff because I love to surf. I don’t love,” I snatch the phone from her hands and read, “math and verbal reasoning. That’s what’s on this test.” The phone falls to the bed.
“But you can learn if you want to. If it’s what gets you out on the ocean every day. Wouldn’t you love that?” Her voice drops and becomes a soft purr like she’s hypnotizing me. “Just think, Teddy. The wind in your hair. The crash of the waves. Seagulls flying overhead.”
“Sam,” I mumble, thinking of my bird friend.
“Who’s Sam?”
“Never mind. Keep going.” My eyes slide closed, and I smile, imagining myself out in the open water. Helping people. Making a difference. Being a hero.
A soft chuckle from Helen and the sound of her laying back down. The mattress dips as she scoots close enough that her breath tickles my ear.
“The sky is blue. You’re out with your crew, a team. You love being with other people.”
“I really do.”
“Someone’s in trouble, and you’re their only hope,” she whispers. “You can save them.”
I think back to that boat Jamie, Anthony, and I watched.
How powerless I felt on the balcony. How I identified with the vessel as it was flung back and forth by the current.
That’s been me, passively tossed around by the turbulent events in my life, like when my dad died, but what if I wasn’t helpless?
What if I was in control? What if I wasn’t the one who needed rescuing but, instead, I was the rescuer?
“Do you like that idea, Teddy? Of you in a Coast Guard uniform?” She’s weaving a spell, conjuring a world where I’m proud of myself, where I float instead of flounder. A future where I’m good enough to stand by her side.
“I like it,” I sigh out, drowsy so now my defenses topple like dominos with each slow breath.
“I want that, but I don’t know how to get it.
” With effort I crack one eye open, to find her inches away, her beautiful brown eyes trained on my face like she can see right through me.
“I’m serious, Helen. I’m not good at tests. ”
“Lucky for you, I’m really, really good at them,” she says, not breaking eye contact with me.
A small burst of relief. That kiss threw us off balance for a minute, but this—this feels like us again.
It’s that familiar shift, the quiet click of us falling into sync.
The rhythm we’ve developed back in the condo, where understanding hums between us without needing to say much.
“I’m going to offer you a deal. A trade,” she says, with a determined expression.
“I’m listening.”
“You teach me how to talk to people, how to surf, and I’ll help you study for this test.”
“Why would you do that?” I ask.
A long pause and Helen says, “Because I’m your…friend. That’s what friends do.”
The kiss comes back to me. Longing and lust.
Friend. I’ve never hated a word more.
Helen rushes on to say, “I was a tutor all through school. I can do this, Teddy. I promise I can get you that score.”
I push disappointment aside and focus on my future. The one with the Coast Guard. The one that doesn’t include Helen. The edges of my vision blur, and sleep rushes in like a warm, heavy tide.
“Really? You promise,” I ask, believing her because I may take the easy way out sometimes, but Helen never does.
“I promise,” she says, and it’s the last thing I hear.