Free Contact by Laurisa Reyes Page B

is something much softer—empathy. He doesn’t say anything for at least a minute. Seeing his reaction to the news about Mama shoots pangs of guilt through me. I was too hard on him. Why should he have known? And of course he’d be mad when I didn’t show up after I’d promised to.
    “I’m sorry.” His voice is sincere. “I’m sorry about your mom and the fact that I was such a jerk. I just—” His hands slide out of his pockets, and he folds his arms over his chest. “I just wanted to see you again.”
    Down the street I spot the Benz. In another thirty seconds, Jordan will be here.
    “I’m willing to try this again if you are,” I tell David. “If you happen to come by the park tonight around six you just might find me there.”
    The car pulls up to the curb. I open the door and slip into the backseat. Jordan casts me a curious glance in the rearview mirror, but I ignore it. As we drive away, I turn and look back at David. He’s still standing where I left him, hands back in his pockets…and a wide grin on his face.
     

 
     
     
     
     
     
    At six o’clock I head out for the park. Papa isn’t home yet. I didn’t expect him to be, and yet I can’t help but feel disappointed. During the past week he’s only visited Mama once while I’ve gone every day, sometimes staying for hours. I know he’s busy, and Dr. Walsh suggested that maybe this is all too much for him, that he’s carrying his burden in his own way. Maybe distancing himself from Mama is the only way he can bear it.
    I arrive at the park at a few minutes past six. It isn’t very big, just a little bit of grass, two picnic tables, and some trees. The kids’ play area is toward the back. I can see in a second that I’m alone. What did I expect after I bailed on him the last time? I told him I’d be here. He said nothing about taking me up on it.
    The thought crosses my mind that I should just turn right around and go back home, but then I hear David’s voice. “You’re late!”
    I look up and see him standing on the yellow roof of the play gym. His legs are spread wide for balance, but his feet keep slipping on the dome-shaped metal.
    “What are you doing up there?” I holler. “You’re going to break your neck!”
    “I was keeping watch,” he says, grinning. “Come on up. The view’s spectacular.”
    “No thanks.”
    His arms flail awkwardly, like an injured duck coming in for a landing. He’s making me nervous. “Get down here, David, before you kill yourself.”
    Too late. One foot slides too far forward and David loses his balance. It all happens so fast I don’t even have time to scream. Suddenly he’s vanished from the roof, and I hear a dull thud behind the gym.
    “David!”
    I run fast, discovering him sprawled face-first in the sand, groaning. I squat down beside him wondering if I’m about to take my third ride in an ambulance in as many weeks. David rolls onto his back. Sand covers his face; it’s in his eyes, nose, and on his lips. He spits out a wet, gray wad of it. “Yuck.”
    “Are you all right?” I ask, trying not to laugh. “Is anything broken?”
    He sits up and spits again. “Just my pride, not that I ever had any to start with around you.” David stands up and brushes himself off. He wipes some of the sand off his face, and then shakes it out of his hair, like a wet dog would shake the water out of its coat. I can’t help but burst out laughing.
    He makes a playful grab for me, but I’m faster. I twist away, just out of reach. He doesn’t try again, but grins at me from ear to ear.
    “Well,” he says, “I don’t know about you, but after all that I’m hungry. How about we get something to eat?”
    “Okay. What do you have in mind?”
    “Well, we could head to my place. I made some mean chile rellenos for dinner last night—”
    “Do you live far?
    “Just through the Lowell pass off Laurel Canyon, actually. Can’t miss my house. It’s the one that looks like a