“So the water flows from the gutter into the pool,” Daniel said. He looked back at the pool, which was half full. “Why didn’t it overflow? There was tons of rain with that storm.”
“It did overflow,” Anna said. She pointed to a hose trailing off the upper lip of the pool, gobs of caulk rimming a small indention that had been cut into the plastic. The hose snaked straight from the elevated lip of the pool and out the bottom of the window. “See? The pool overflowed into the sink all night, where the excess went down the drain and back outside. We let the gutters run clean first, then started collecting as much as we could.”
“This hose looks like it goes up a little.” Daniel ran his hand along the length of green hose, checking the angle.
Anna nodded. “As long as you don’t let any air in, it’ll keep siphoning off. The carpet did get a little wet from the house shaking so much when the wind blew. Water was sloshing everywhere, and we’d designed it to keep the pool full. Next time, I’d probably set the overflow hose a little lower.”
Daniel looked the contraption over. Along with the charging station outside, it was like Anna and her Father were a Rube Goldberg factory. “Do you get extra credit for any of this stuff?”
Anna laughed. “I wish. Unfortunately, it’s all standardized testing for memorized crap you could just look up if you needed to. My dad and I just do stuff like this for fun.”
Daniel felt himself beaming at the idea of doing such things for fun. “It’s pretty awesome,” he said. He turned to Anna, who was smiling at him and blushing. She tucked some hair behind her ear. “I think you’re pretty awesome,” he added.
Anna reached out and grabbed his hand. Daniel felt chill bumps rush up and down his arms and legs. His scalp tingled, and his temperature rose.
“If I find out you have a girlfriend—” Anna began, heading off somewhere Daniel hadn’t expected.
“I don’t,” he said quickly.
She took a step closer. “But if I find out you do, and this is some sorta post-hurricane game of yours, and the only reason you’re hanging out with me is because I’m within walking distance and your girlfriend is stuck somewhere without a car—”
“I swear,” Daniel said. He felt himself sweating from the surge of conflicting emotions, of arousal and fear.
“Because you see how creative I can get.” She waved a hand at the pool. “My revenge would be ingenious.”
“I’ve never really had a girlfriend in my li—”
Anna leaned forward and kissed him. It wasn’t like his kiss with Amanda Hicks, forceful and raw and probing. It was soft and tender. Her lips seemed to jolt electricity into his, and he could feel the blood rushing out of his head, leaving him dizzy. Daniel didn’t know what to do with his hands, but he wanted to do something special. He placed them on either of Anna’s cheeks and held them there. Their lips remained pressed together, trembling.
When she pulled away, Daniel felt like crying for the loss, or maybe for the pure joy of it having happened. He was grinning like a fool, could feel his cheeks cramping. Anna smiled at him, her eyes fluttering, a look of pure contentment on her face.
“That was amazing,” he whispered. He felt like such a fool for saying it. Like such a fool for starting his senior year and being so inexperienced with sex that a simple kiss could make him feel like he could fly. But he knew in that instant, as Anna nodded, silently agreeing with his assessment, that he was a lucky fool. For he had found a fellow reject, a girl too comfortable in her own skin to dress up and play like the others. He grabbed her hand and held it to his lips and kissed her fingers and fought the urge to say crazy things.
“Your dad is probably waiting on you,” Anna said with a smile.
Daniel kissed her hand again. He knew if he wanted to, that he could bend forward and kiss her lips, her cheek, her nose, her forehead. The smile on her face said it was all possible. He was now a superhero elite. Nothing could stop him. His chest was cinderblocks full of glowing steel.
“I’ll come see you tomorrow?” he asked.
“And the day after,” Anna said.
Daniel smiled. As he ran down the steps, trying not to pass out and go tumbling head over heels, he found himself looking forward to a tomorrow for the first time in forever.
26
Daniel spent the night rolling around amid a tangle of blankets on Hunter’s floor, his mind spinning as it dreamed of impossible things like being in love and moving massive trees off houses. The morning came with a clattering of chirping birds, their having returned from wherever the storm had blown them or wherever they had hidden away. Their songs roused Daniel from his first bit of good sleep; he woke and felt the summer’s morning chill breezing through the window.
Daniel untangled himself, stood, stretched and looked out the window at the glowing and splintered forest beyond the back yard. Hunter lay on his back, his mouth wide open, the snuffles of contented sleep rattling in his throat.
“Lucky bastard,” Daniel whispered. He walked quietly out the room and snuck into his own. His sister was lying on a bed made up of a sleeping bag and comforter, a single sheet draped over her from toes to shoulders. She turned her head away from the window and smiled at Daniel as he tip-toed toward his dresser. “Forgot to set out clothes,” he whispered.
She nodded and turned to gaze at the brightening sky. Daniel snuck a shirt and another pair of shorts out of his dresser, wondering when he was going to be able to wash what he’d worn the last few days. He stole a glance at his bed on the way out, which was mounded around his brother’s girlfriend. One thing he and Hunter had agreed on while getting ready for bed the night before: their sleeping arrangements had been better off before they’d set out to “rescue” him.
Outside, Daniel felt the pleasing air of a Beaufort late-summer morning. There was a chill that the clear sky cautioned one to enjoy, for it would soon be burned off. The birds and squirrels were back to their foraging and mating games, giving the mortally wounded trees a film of life and activity. The waxy green of the leaves lucky enough to survive the storm glittered as the barest of breezes trembled through them. Everything seemed vibrant and sparkling and new. The day was awesome with possibility.
He carried a jug of water, two cups, and the last of the Pop-Tarts out toward the tool shed, finding that the spectacle of the day, or perhaps the kiss from the night before, had swept away a layer or two of resentment toward his father. The tool shed felt less and less apt a place for him. It had begun to seem cruel.
The front door of the shed was propped open to let in the nice air. His father was sitting on a bucket, tugging on his shoes. He looked up and smiled at Daniel, a few days growth on his face giving him a rugged appearance.
“Morning,” he said.
“Morning, Dad.” Daniel sniffed at the smell of gasoline. “You wanna eat out here?” Daniel looked to the yard. “There’s plenty of logs to sit on.”
His father laughed. “Sure. Same grub as yesterday?”
Daniel looked at the supplies in his hands. It looked like prison food. His dad stood and slapped him on the back. “I love Pop-Tarts,” he said. “Boat food.” He waved toward one of the bigger trees laying on its side in the yard.
“You been seeing this Anna girl for long?” his dad asked, sitting down. He looked up at Daniel as they both peeled back the metal foil and chewed on the cold and dry pastries. Daniel grabbed the cup from between his knees and took a sip.
“I met her the day after the storm,” he said.
His father laughed. “I thought the thing between you two still had the shine on it.”