The Fixes by Owen Matthews Read Free Book Online

cold but refreshing, and it’s so clear you can see the anchor digging into the sandy bottom. And the boat bobs on the waves, and Eric floats on his back beside it, staring up at the blue sky and bobbing in the waves too, and the internship and his dad and all of Capilano may as well be a million miles away.

65.
    â€œSo Jordan says you saved his academic career,” Paige says—
    (They’re back on the boat now, on the sundeck, on towels, letting the sun dry the water from their skin.)
    â€œI’d love to hear that story.”
    Eric glances at Jordan, who’s back in the stern with Haley. They’re cuddled up close back there. Real close.
    (Eric’s kind of distracted.)
    â€œI didn’t really do much,” he says. “Just helped him cram a little bit for the calc exam.”
    â€œDon’t be so modest .” Jordan climbs back up to the sundeck with a fresh round of drinks. “I would have failed that midterm without you. They would have held me back a year. Now I’m home free, and the summer is ours.”
    Paige takes her drink. Toasts. “The summer is ours.”
    She reaches over to touch glasses with Eric, but Eric’s hardly paying attention. He’s watching Jordan retreat back to the stern of the Sundancer. Watching Haley sit up when he gets there.
    He’s watching Jordan and Haley make out.
    And he’s thinking . . .
    Son of a bitch.

66.
    â€œSo if you helped Jordan pass calculus somehow,” Paige says, “you really are a hero.”
    Eric stops creeping on Jordan and Haley, lest Paige figure out what he’s doing. He forces a laugh. “Come on.”
    â€œMaybe I should have failed calculus,” Paige says. “Maybe you would have paid more attention to me.”
    Eric looks at Paige. Can’t see her eyes behind her huge Dolce sunglasses. Paige stares at him, her expression inscrutable, and suddenly the boat seems very small.
    â€œShit,” Eric says. “Yeah, about that. I’m sorry. I . . .”
    He trails off, unsure of how to finish. Not sure how to tell Paige about how scared he was, toward the end of their little fling, when he realized he wasn’t feeling the whole hetero angle. When he figured out he kind of, sort of, was more into guys.
    (Scared? Fucking terrified. Fucking ashamed. )
    But Eric still can’t explain it. And Paige is watching him through her sunglasses, waiting for an explanation. The seconds drag on. It’s awkward.
    Then Jordan speaks from below deck. “Who cares ?” he says. “He’s here now, isn’t he? E’s back, baby. Better than ever.”
    Paige’s still watching Eric.
    â€œYeah,” she says. “I guess we’ll see, won’t we?”

67.
    Jordan’s phone buzzes. He trails a lazy hand over the pile of towels to get it, smiles when he reads the screen.
    â€œSomeone on Kik just sent a blast from the airport,” he tells the others. “Apparently Callum Fulchrest was just seen boarding a nonstop flight to Barcelona two hours ago. The bastard is fleeing the country.”
    Nobody replies. Eric lifts his head from the towel, looks around the boat just in time to see Haley and Paige exchange glances. But neither of them says anything.
    â€œDo you think it’s true?” he asks. “Did he really do what they said?”
    â€œOf course it’s true,” Haley says. “Didn’t you watch the Vine? It’s all there.”
    â€œWell, yeah, but—”
    â€œBut nothing. That guy was shady as fuck. He tried to slip a roofie in my drink at prom, like I wouldn’t freaking notice.” Haley picks up her book again. “He got his, though, didn’t he?”
    â€œThey always do,” Jordan says.
    Eric replays the Vine in his head. The hidden-camera trick was pretty rad, pretty sneaky. Whoever pulled it off had balls and skill. He’s been racking his brain, trying to remember the party,