Listen to Your Heart
Page 4For a second I was confused, but then I remembered the lake that morning. Frank had been the guy on the WaveRunner. He had sprayed me on purpose. An entire year in the same small class as Frank Young was not going to be fun.
When I got home from school, I stopped by the kitchen, where Mom was stirring a pitcher of iced tea.
“Does Dad need me at the marina?” I asked.
“No, it slowed down this afternoon.”
My eyebrows popped up. “So does that mean there’s an extra WaveRunner I can take out?”
Mom laughed. “You are determined to spend all your earnings on gas, aren’t you?”
“Yes, you should just pay me in gas from now on.”
She opened the fridge and pulled out an apple. “How was school?”
“Not bad.”
“Your junior year might be your best one yet.”
“You say that every year.”
“I like to think positively.” She turned on the tap, washed the apple, and handed it to me.
“Thanks, Mom.” I left the kitchen just as Max entered, and Mom started asking him about his first day of freshman year.
As I headed down the hall to my room, my phone rang and I pulled it out of my bag.
“Hey, Alana. Miss me already?”
“We need to brainstorm more podcast topics,” she replied.
“Why? We just had class. And the assignment’s not due until Friday.”
“Topics will get picked fast. The longer we wait, the harder it will be. And by the way, have you listened to any of the podcasts I told you about?”
I opened my bedroom door and let my backpack slide down my arm and onto the floor. Then I plopped down onto the beanbag in the corner, biting off a chunk of apple. I looked across the room at my big poster of a wakeboarder creating an arc of spray. It reminded me that I wanted to be out on the lake. “I’ve been busy.”
“You know you can listen to podcasts while you go on your WaveRunner.”
“I know, I know. What’s your favorite? I’ll listen to it.”
“So all of them?”
“Pretty much.”
My cousin came into my room then with a loud, “Ughhh.”
I gasped in surprise, nearly choking on chewed-up apple.
“What happened?” Alana asked.
Liza’s strong citrus scent followed her in. “It’s Liza. She seems happy.”
“I am not happy,” Liza said.
“Oh, you just smell happy, I was confused.”
“You need to get over this problem you have with my perfume.”
“Are you having a conversation with me or Liza?” Alana asked from the phone.
“Sorry, you,” I told Alana.
“I have a problem,” Liza said loudly.
“Did Liza say she has a problem?” Alana asked.
“Yes.”
“Put me on speaker.”
I sighed but complied.
“Hey, Liza,” Alana said. “Tell us your problem.”
“My mom wants me to go to tutoring at that center by the grocery store in town,” Liza said with a frown.
“Okay …” Alana said.
“Once a week, after school. To ‘get ahead of the problem,’ she said.”
“You know, my grade problem.”
I didn’t know. “You have a grade problem?”
Liza shrugged. “I lack motivation when it comes to homework.” She used two fingers to stretch a piece of gum out of her mouth.
“And going to the tutoring center is a bad thing?” Alana asked. “What’s wrong with forcing yourself to do homework once a week and having help readily available?”
Liza twisted the gum around her pointer finger, then scraped it off with her teeth. “I’m a freshman. Think of my reputation.”
I wasn’t sure what reputation she was referring to, but I understood what she was saying. “Who is going to know about this?” I asked. “Anyone that’s there is also getting tutored.”
Liza gave an epic eye roll like I was the most ignorant person in the world, and sat down on the edge of my bed. “It’s by the grocery store. Do you know how many people from our school go to that grocery store?”
“No, I don’t.” I rarely went to the grocery store in Oak Court. We had a small market in Lakesprings and even though it was owned by the Youngs, it was more convenient than the alternative.
“I don’t, either,” Liza admitted, “but I’m sure it’s a lot. Someone will see me.”
Alana’s voice rang out from the phone. “Why don’t you talk to your mom and see if you can prove to her that you’re willing to do homework on your own? Tell her that she can check the school website every week and the first time that it shows a missing assignment, you’ll agree to her tutoring plan.”
Liza sat forward with a smile. “That is an excellent idea, Alana. You give the best advice. Thank you!” She hopped up and ran out of my room, apparently to share this idea with her mom that second.
“You’re welcome,” Alana said to my empty room.
“She’s gone,” I said.
“That girl is funny. But hey, my mom just got home from work and is patiently waiting to talk to me.”
“Okay. See you tomorrow.” I ended the call and went to my dresser for a swimsuit. When I turned around to shut my door, my mom stood there, leaning against the frame.
“That’s not a bad idea,” she said.
“What’s not?”
“Checking the website to make sure your homework is done before you have lake time.”
“Nobody suggested that as an idea.”
She winked. “I made a couple of modifications. I heard you telling Alana that you have something due this Friday.”
Her face brightened. “How was the podcasting class? Did you love it?”
Alana had sold my mom on podcasts last year as part of her strategy to convince me. “It was okay.”
“Give it a chance. It might surprise you.”
“Do you wish you could take the podcasting class, too, Mom?”
“Funny. So you have to think of a topic for the show?”
“Yes.” I dropped the apple core into the small trash bin under my desk.
“What are your ideas so far?”
“I have none. Alana and I will figure something out.”
“How about fashion advice?”
I looked down at my plain old shorts and striped tee. “Is that a hint?”
“Not at all. I’m just trying to think of something teens might be interested in.”
“Leave it to the actual teens,” I said with a smile.
“How about, ‘What’s in Your Lunch?’ Exposé-type news stories of what’s happening around the school.”
“Mom, I love you, and thanks for trying, but no.”
She pointed to the swimsuit I still held in my hand. “Well, you better think of something fast, because no lake time until you do.”
I let my mouth fall open as she walked away. “Since when?”
“Since now,” she called back as she headed off down the hall.
Crap.
My brother walked by my door. “Max!” I shouted in desperation.