Parallel

freshman year and haven’t exactly made the effort to branch out beyond Caitlin, Tyler, the golf team, and some girls from the Oracle staff. These kids seem nice. And super serious about their sport. As Coach Schwartz runs through the plan for practice, they hang on every word.
    Megan was right about the M8A, which I soon learn stands for the men’s eight A, the team’s fastest boat. They barely need a coxswain, which is great, since having me onboard is basically the same thing as not having one at all. She was also right about Josh. He’s ridiculously good.
    He doesn’t let me off easy, though. “The only way to learn the calls is to do them,” he tells me as he helps me into the boat. “So I’ll tell you what to call, but you’ve got to call it. As loud as you can.”
    “I thought I got to wear a little microphone,” I say, pointing at the headset Megan has on.
    “You will,” he replies, and smiles. “Eventually. The cox box does a lot of the work for you, but the best coxes don’t need one.”
    “How about the no-clue-what-they’re-doing coxes?”
    “Eh. They don’t know how to use ’em, anyway.”
    “So, Wags, we actually gonna get in the water today or what?” It’s Phillip Avery, the bowman, who, if Josh’s body language is any indication, is Josh’s least favorite person on the team. Phillip also happens to have been my date to Homecoming freshman year, which ended with my leaving him on the dance floor and walking home after he tried to stick his hand up my dress during Coldplay’s “Fix You.” We haven’t spoken since.
    “Since this is Abby’s first day,” Josh says evenly, “I thought, being captain , I might explain to her what she’ll be doing before she does it. That okay with you, Phil ?” Phillip hates to be called Phil.
    I look down at the dock, swallowing a smile. Astronomy Boy is a badass in spandex.
    Phillip mutters something unintelligible.
    Josh carries on, undeterred by the seven impatient rowers standing behind him. I glance over at the B boat, already fifty yards down the river. Megan’s voice echoes in the air.
    “Come on, guys! Put it in clean!”
    “I’d like to put it in clean,” Phillip says under his breath.
    “Wouldn’t we all,” the guy next to him says wistfully. “She’s so freaking hot.”
    Josh looks past me to Megan. He’s still talking about steering technique, but his eyes are on her. And her big, perfectly perky boobs.
    “I think I’m ready,” I say suddenly, cutting him off midsentence. “Now.”
    His eyes snap back to mine. “Yeah?”
    “Sure.” I shrug, feigning confidence. “How hard can it be?”
    Turns out, even when you have someone telling you what to do and when to do it, coxing is still hard. Really. Freaking. Hard.
    By the time practice ends two hours later, I’m exhausted. My butt aches, my throat hurts, and my brain is approaching overload. It takes every ounce of my remaining energy to hobble to my car. So much to remember! So much to do! Cross-country is effortless compared to this. All you have to do is run. Coxing is so much more work, and it’s not even a workout. But at the same time, it’s oddly exhilarating. Being out on the water. Being in charge. Being six inches from Josh.
    “Abby!” I jump when I hear my name. I turn to see Josh jogging toward me, his hair wet from the shower. “I was worried you were gone already,” he says, coming up beside me. “I’m glad you’re not. Here, let me take these.” He reaches for the keys dangling from my pinkie finger.
    I smile, dropping the keys onto his outstretched palm. Megan who? I feel a flash of guilt for agreeing to talk to him for her. But it’s not like she gave me much of a choice.
    “You really rocked out there!” he says enthusiastically.
    “Ha. Yeah, right.”
    “I’m serious. You just need to get more comfortable with the commands,” he tells me. “Your instincts were great.”
    “I’m not sure I believe you, but thanks. It was fun. More fun than I thought it’d be,” I admit.
    We reach my car. Josh unlocks the doors and opens the driver’s-side door for me. “Big plans tonight?” he asks, sliding my crutches into the backseat.
    “Oh, just this museum event,” I say. “With my parents,” I add, just to be clear.
    “Cool,” Josh says, and hands me back my keys. I just stand there, smiling, waiting for him to suggest that we get together some other time. That’s why you ask someone about their Saturday night plans,