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We don our life jackets and climb into the kayak. I must be hallucinating, because when I glance back at him, Mateo looks awfully pale—almost uncomfortable. Which doesn’t make sense because he’s a star athlete in super fit condition. Paddling a kayak can’t possibly be challenging for him.
The bullhorn signals the start of the race, and all the other pairs take off in a rush with lots of squeals from the girls and splashing by the guys. We push off the shore quickly, but then our kayak noticeably slows, barely gliding forward as Mateo slowly dips the paddle in the lake. Hmmm, maybe he has a strategy of letting the other kayaks clear out of the way?
We’ve made it forward several meters but also mostly veered to one side when I peer back at Mateo again. “Everything okay back there? Is there a secret winning strategy that I should know about? Are we heading for the edges to catch the ducks that other people miss?”
His face is definitely pale now. Deathly white, which is saying a lot for a man of Latino heritage who just spent all summer at the beach. He also seems to be breathing a lot faster than would make sense for the physical effort he has exerted thus far.
“I, um, I’ve never kayaked before,” Mateo says. “I haven’t really been on a lake in a long time.”
“Really?” I ask, a bit bewildered. “You’ve never participated in the games? Or come out with your soccer teammates to spend a day on the lake? How have you been at Townsend for three years and never been out on the lake?”
He’s breathing shallowly but manages to whisper, “I’m sort of afraid of deep water.”
I carefully swivel in my kayak seat so I can face him without tipping us over. Who really cares about rubber ducks anyway? Particularly when your rowing mate is on the verge of a panic attack.
“Hey, it’s fine, Mateo,” I say calmly. “It’s just you and me in a sturdy, non-sinking kayak. I won’t do anything to make it tip over, okay?”
He swallows. I’m sure people back on shore are bewildered as to what’s going on and why the most popular athlete on campus isn’t dominating an athletic competition.
“It’s just, when I was young, I was at an aquarium with this older kid in the neighborhood, and, uh, he teased me that one of the really creepy fish was probably caught out of the local lake we always swam in.” He closes his eyes and pauses, as if picturing that aquarium fish again. “Ah, ever since then I’ve just been, well, kinda terrified thinking about what could possibly be swimming below the surface.”
“You know what? I don’t really like lakes all that much myself,” I say quietly, trying to use the soothing voice I heard my mom use with scared clients over the summer. “Hey, just look into my eyes, okay? Don’t look down in the water.” He slowly opens his eyes and meets my gaze. I take a deep breath and he mimics me. “Keep your eyes on the horizon, and let’s paddle back to shore.”
His breathing is evening out and color returning to his face. “But the competition—I don’t want to disappoint you,” he eventually says.
“Mateo, I was literally about to leave,” I say with a small laugh. “I honestly don’t care. Let’s get on solid ground.”
He slowly urges the kayak back to shore, away from where the main crowd is standing. We climb out, and I make up excuses to a few curious bystanders. Thankfully, the bullhorn ending the race has sounded, and everyone else is on shore cheering the teams returning to tally up their rubber ducks. No one is even watching as we walk away from the water’s edge.
“Thanks for that back there,” Mateo says. “I’m sorry I froze up. I didn’t realize it would be such a big deal until I got out there and looked down.”
“It’s really fine, I promise,” I reassure him. “Anyway, I think I’m going to duck out of all this chaos.”
“Pun intended?” Mateo asks with a small smile. I laugh. “I’ll walk you to your car. It’s the least I could do after that embarrassment!”
I laugh again and tip my head toward the parking lot. Mateo falls into step beside me. “I heard you got to spend a few weeks in D.C. this summer advocating for the Afghan Adjustment Act,” he says.
My feet skip a step, so caught off guard that he would know that. “Yeah, I did. I don’t know that I made much of an impact, but it was a great learning experience.”
“Well, every voice helps. It’s important legislation that’s long overdue,” he says matter-of-factly. “I’m glad it was reintroduced to Congress. Hopefully they pass it soon.”
I glance over at him out of the corner of my eye. “I, um, I didn’t know that you were interested in the AAA,” I admit. I see him glance back at me through the corner of his eye. “I just mean, not many people in Arrow really know anything about it.”
“My parents emigrated from Guatemala,” Mateo shares. “I’m first-generation American-born, so I like to stay at least somewhat informed about immigration issues.”
I’m just digesting this surprising information when Mateo one-ups his surprises. “Lana, can I take you to coffee tomorrow afternoon? Maybe Bookafe at two o’clock?”
Now I skip all the steps and come to a standstill. Mateo backtracks until he’s beside me, peering down at my blank face. My brain is going to be fired after malfunctioning so epically today. I’m just staring at Mateo, forgetting how to speak or breathe, when he repeats the question. “Lana, I’d like to take you to coffee tomorrow. Bookafe at two? Will you meet me there?”
My thoughts are still confused, but I manage to force out words that sound something like, “Uh yeah, sure, yep, coffee is good. I like coffee.”
Half of Mateo’s mouth upturns in a smile as he says, “I know you do. I’ll see you tomorrow at two.”
He opens my car door for me—wait, when did we start walking again and arrive at my car? Also, did I leave it unlocked? I look down at the keys in my hand and realize that at some point I clicked the unlock button without my brain even computing that I was doing it.
I nod once at Mateo and slide into the driver’s seat. He smiles one more time before closing the door with a wave. I push the ignition and crank the AC all the way up.
I leave the parking lot but don’t head straight back to AOPi, instead opting to drive around with the air conditioning and my thoughts on full blast.
