Free Reach for Tomorrow by Lurlene McDaniel

times.”
    He flashed her a smile that almost made her heart melt. “Thanks for telling me that. It helps.”
    “Helps?”
    “Helps me believe that we aren’t a hopeless case.”
    She smiled shyly. “Nothing’s hopeless.” She bent and picked up his heap of clothes. “Except maybe your laundry. It looks pretty grim.”
    “Thanks for doing it.”
    “You beat us. I owe you, remember?”
    “Well, we did sort of trick you.”
    “I know, but we’ll get over it.”
    She eased out the door, clutching the clothes, and the last sound she heard as she walked toward the laundry room was Josh whistling.
    That night at supper in the rec hall, Katie sat with her friends, picking at her Jell-O. “What’s the matter?” Lacey asked.
    “Nothing.”
    Lacey leaned over to the others. “Which is shorthand for ‘Lots, but I’m not going to tell you-all.’ ”
    “Can’t a person have a personal thought around here?” Katie asked.
    “Sounds like a Josh encounter to me,” Lacey said with authority as she leaned back in her chair.
    Katie was starting to snap, “No, it wasn’t,” when the rec doors opened and Josh, Kevin, and Ericstrolled in. They wore makeshift Mexican-style out-fits—big, cheap
sombreros
and horse blankets thrown around their shoulders. Eric carried a guitar, and the other two held roses in their teeth. They slowly walked over to where the girls sat and bowed from the waist.
    “We have come to sing for you,” Kevin announced in a terrible Spanish accent.
    “I thought we were supposed to sing for you,” Katie said. The three boys looked so ridiculous that she could hardly keep from laughing aloud.
    “We have heard all of you sing,” Josh said. “It is not a pretty noise.”
    “Why, you …” Lacey picked up a blob of Jell-O as if to toss it at them, but Chelsea grabbed her hand.
    “Methinks the
señorita
is miffed,” Eric said. He’d drawn a thin mustache on his upper lip with eyebrow pencil.
    Kids were leaving their seats and gathering around the girls’ table. “Hey, Josh,” one boy called out. “Are those my shower shoes you’re wearing?” He was a big kid, heavyset and bald from chemotherapy.
    Katie looked at Josh’s feet and saw that he wore shower sandals shaped like little boats. She muffled her laughter with her hand.
    “We have a song for the pretty girls,” Josh said in an equally bad Spanish accent. He glanced at his
compadres
. “The music, Señor Eric.”
    Eric strummed the guitar, and together the three boys sang “Wind Beneath My Wings.” They were not quite on key, but as they went along, they began to sound decent, almost good. And when they sang the refrain, Josh looked straight into Katie’s eyes.
    She felt the look all the way to her bones.
    When the song was over, the campers cheered and stomped. Lacey shook her head, and Chelsea gave Eric a dreamy look. Meg leaned over to Katie and said, “So, do you think they have a shot at singing careers?”
    “Probably not,” Katie answered, but her insides were still quivering from the expression in Josh’s eyes.
    The three boys offered dopey grins, handed each girl a rose, and bowed one final time. “However,
señoritas,”
Kevin said, “this was just a demonstration of how proper singing is done.”
    “Yes,” Josh said. “Make certain your song to us is equally well done.”
    Lacey stuck out her tongue.
    The three boys laughed and moved out of the rec center. Campers tagged after them, knocking off their
sombreros
and taking turns wearing them.
    “Now, how are we going to follow their act?” Chelsea asked.
    Lacey rolled her eyes. “Who wants to?”
    “It’s our turn tomorrow night to sing to them,” Chelsea said. “We’ve got to do something spectacular.”
    “Yeah, Lacey,” Katie chimed in. “This is all your doing anyway. Think of something.”
    Lacey sighed. “Oh, all right. I’ll come up with some kind of idea. But the three of you had better go along with it.”
    “Suits me,” Meg said