Page 47 of Lance

“That’s what the mask isfor.”

“Cool!”

Lance leans over the side of the pool and helps Simon adjust it. “Can yousee?”

“Uh huh,” Simon says, his voice a little muffled by the part of the mask that covers hisnose.

“Okay, I’m going to time you. There are eight rings, you gotta get them all.” Lance tosses the rings into the water and Simon immediately splashes down to start retrievingthem.

“That ought to keep him pretty busy,” Lance says, plopping down next to me on the edge of the pool. “Kid’s got someenergy.”

“I never knew you were so good at somersaults,” I tell him and he chucklessoftly.

“I used to screw around with a BMX bike,” he said. “Hurtling myself through the air off of ramps taught me a fewtricks.”

I shudder a little. “That soundsawful.”

“Why?”

“Because your feet aren’t planted firmly on theground.”

“You afraid of heights,Willa?”

I shudder again. “You have noidea.”

We sit in silence for a while, watching Simon, while I try not to be aware of the delicious body heat I can feel radiating off of Lance. “Why’d you stop doing BMX?” I askeventually.

He clears his throat. “Uh, afterjuvie—”

“You were in juvie?” I ask in surprise, and immediately wish I hadn’t. His face reddensslightly.

“Yeah. Junior year. Anyhow, when I got out I stopped hanging out with those friends. Tried to get myself on the straight andnarrow.”

He still looks a little embarrassed, so I bump my shoulder against his lightly. “Straight and narrow, huh? I bet that lasted for a longtime.”

He smiles at me. “Well, that’s about the time I started playing piano, so things did get a littlebetter.”

“You didn’t play until you were a junior?” I don’t bother to hide the surprise in my voice. Lance is an amazing keyboardist. I would have thought he’d been playing a lot longer thanthat.

“Yeah. My mom got me into it. I…I always had a rough time in school. Couldn’t read all that great. Couldn’t ever concentrate.” He’s watching Simon but I get the feeling his attention is far away. “My mom read some article that said music could help with dyslexia and ADD so she got me intolessons.”

“Did ithelp?”

He nods. “Yeah.” He turns back to me, smiling a little. “Turns out I was pretty good atit.”

I grin back. “You could saythat.”

It suddenly occurs to me that we’re sitting very close together and neither one of us is wearing much. I’m hyper aware of how close his shoulder is, how nice it would feel if he slipped his arm around me. How broad his chest would feel under mycheek.

“Willa,” he says, his voice serious, and my heart starts to thud faster in my chest. I stare up into his face, knowing I should look away. There’s something expectant in his expression. Something hopeful. Is he going to kissme?

“Yeah?” I whisper, unable to tear my gaze away fromhis.

“I was wondering if you wanted ajob.”

“I…wait.What?”

He’s still looking at me in that expectant, hopeful way and it feels like being doused with cold water to realize that his thoughts were a million miles frommine.