OUR HEARTBEAT [BEOMJUN] ✅

twelve

Labor Day weekend was one of the busiest rental times of the entire year. It was like people realized the warmth was leaving, so they were trying to soak up every last minute of sun.

“Guess who doesn’t have tutoring because of Labor Day?” Liz asked happily. She sat next to a rack of swimsuits in the marina shop, not helping at all. I stood at the register, behind the computer. Jeno was in the back, unpacking a shipment we had received that morning.

“You don’t?” I asked my cousin. I found myself slightly disappointed. The plan was to help Arin with Yeonjun, and the tutoring center had been a good place to do that. Plus, I wanted to see if I’d been right about the podcast call—if Yeonjun was the mysterious caller. I needed a long period of talking to him to figure that out.

“Nope,” Liz said, beaming. “Mom didn’t even reschedule it for another day this week.”

“Lucky you.” I nudged her leg with my foot. “Aren’t you going to miss Jake?”

“Ha ha,” she said but she looked at the floor, probably to hide pink cheeks.

My dad appeared in the open doorway. “Gyu, will you check the position of WaveRunner number seven on the GPS?”

“Yep.” All our power rentals had GPS units to keep track of them. Cell coverage on the lake was spotty and sometimes people couldn’t call in to the marina if they got stuck. “It’s in the cove,” I said when I pulled up the location on the computer.

He sighed. “That’s what I was worried about. It’s an hour late. The next renter is here.”

“It probably ran out of gas,” I said, and Dad nodded. “Want me to go check on it?”

Liz hopped up. “I can stand at the cash register.”

“Okay,” Dad said.

We had a smaller, older WaveRunner that had aged out of our renting fleet, but we kept it for situations like this when all the others were rented out. I grabbed the keys, a life jacket, and a rope, and headed out. With a big smile on my face, I untied the vehicle from the dock. I shouldn’t have been happy someone was stuck or late, but it meant I got to be out on the lake for a little bit.

After I got past the five-mile-an-hour buoys, I cranked the gas and picked up speed. Water sprayed out on either side of the WaveRunner, creating a fine mist on my legs. The lake was choppy today and crowded with boats. The sequoia trees created a dark green band against the blue sky. There were spots of rust-colored trees as well—dying trees. Some were suffering from the drought, some from a beetle that had infested the area a few years back.

The cove was up ahead, hidden by a bend in the lake and an outcropping of rocks and trees. When I rounded the corner, the first thing I saw was a fancy speedboat, its engine off. Two guys were standing inside the boat; one, who looked to be about my age, manned the wheel, and the other guy, who looked to be in his twenties, stood beside him, talking. I should’ve instantly recognized the boat as belonging to the Chois but I didn’t until I recognized the driver: Soobin.

I growled and applied more gas. When Soobin heard the sound of my approach, he turned. Sitting, stalled, on the other side of his boat was our WaveRunner, empty of an occupant. I glanced around the lake to see if the driver was somewhere nearby. Then it occurred to me that our customer must’ve been the twentysomething guy Soobin was talking to in his boat. I slowed and came up alongside the watercraft.

“Ah, they did eventually send someone out, San,” Soobin said to the other guy. Then Soonin gave me a smug smile and added, “Looks like one of your vehicles is out of commission again.”

I should’ve said, Again? Our crafts are only ever out of commission due to operator error. But I didn’t. Not only because a customer was standing right there, but because my mom had told me never to give the family of Soobin a reason to come after us. If we were always taking the high road, she said, they’d never be able to put up roadblocks. Her analogy didn’t quite work, though, because the family of Choi Soobin always seemed to be able to throw roadblocks from whatever road they were on.