Primal Threat - Earl Emerson [25]
Nadine walked close and said, “What’s that on your arm?”
“It’s a scar from a mountain biking accident in Moab.”
“It doesn’t look too bad.”
“Not now, it doesn’t. It’s five weeks old.”
“Where’s Moab?”
“Utah. It’s a destination spot for mountain bikers from all over the West. It’s got huge rock trails. They’re fun, but they’re like sandpaper when you crash on them.”
Nadine paused before her next question. “You wouldn’t have time to play tennis with me tomorrow morning, would you? All of my friends are bugging out on me.”
“I thought you were on the school team.”
“I’m not healthy enough to play with them yet.”
“Sorry. I’m busy tomorrow. Thanks for asking, though.”
“I guess you don’t remember you promised to play me.”
“I guess I did, didn’t I?”
“You said when I got better. I’m better now.”
“Tell you what. I’m working a twenty-four-hour shift tomorrow, and we don’t get off until Thursday morning at seven thirty. On Thursday morning I could be somewhere at eight.”
“Perfect. My first class isn’t until one. How about the courts at Green Lake? Just north of Evans Pool?”
“You have a deal.” Zak wasn’t sure why he was agreeing to this. He had a sixty-mile bike ride planned that afternoon.
On the drive home, Zak looked over at his father in the passenger’s seat. “How long is that job going to take?”
“Another couple of weeks. They keep giving me other things they want done.”
“You should probably get out of there as soon as you can.”
“The old man’s running things, not his son. And I admit, the son is pretty full of himself.”
“I think he’s cute,” said Stacy, who was sitting in back with her feet propped up on a tub of spackle Zak had bought the night before and left in the van. “He’s taking me to a show at the Paramount in a couple of weeks.”
“Jesus, Stace. He’s ten years younger than you are. Maybe twelve.”
“Look who’s talking. I heard you setting up something with his sister.”
“We’re only going to play tennis. Besides, she’s got a boyfriend, so it’s not a date. She just needs a tennis partner. I don’t want you to go out with him. He’s conceited and self-absorbed and…Haven’t you seen the way he orders Dad around?”
“He’s been very nice to me.”
“I don’t mind,” added Al.
“Trust me on this. Don’t go out with him.”
“Whether you want to admit it or not, I’m a big girl, Zak. Believe me, if he’s a jerk, I’ll know what to do. And I saw the way she was looking at you. It’s not just tennis she wants. She’s like…what…sixteen?”
“She’s in college.”
“Just don’t be such a hypocrite.”
Because she was partially right, Zak found himself fuming over the tennis date. There were at least three good reasons he shouldn’t have agreed to it. One, Nadine Newcastle was rich, and Zak had a habit of antagonizing rich folks. Two, she had a boyfriend. Three, he was attracted to her. He liked her spirit, and he liked her combination of boldness and shyness—he even liked the way she wanted all the gruesome details about his accidents.
His father had told the Newcastles that Zak roomed with him, but it was the other way around—a minor fiction Zak let him maintain to preserve his dignity. Zak was proud of his old man but just a bit embarrassed about the circuitous route his father had taken to reach his current position in life, and a little irritated that he had less than eight hundred dollars in savings and couldn’t seem to build a large enough nest egg to move out, though there were times when Zak suspected his father’s lack of savings had more to do with wanting to remain near Zak than it did with any failure to budget effectively.
Stacy was an entirely different proposition. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she was coming off a delicate, windblown perch she’d been poised on the last few years, and Zak didn’t want anything to disturb her equilibrium. After almost ten vagabond years of moving from city to city and state to state, she had finally settled down in Seattle and obtained a part-time position