Page 44
Story: Better Than Revenge
“Even my grandma wouldn’t do that, and she’s gotten pretty bold lately.”
“Oh, speaking of, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Deja said. “Did you stop posting your podcast for some reason?”
My head whipped in her direction. “Have you been listening?”
“Yes! I love your grandma. And the story was just getting good. Her family moving to California. Her hating its guts. What happens next?”
I scrunched my brows together. Was that where I had left off? “Get this,” I said. “She met a surfer boy and claims that boy was Andrew Lancaster.”
“The painter?” Lee asked.
“Yes! And apparently he taught her to surf and gifted her apainted surfboard. Not only that, she’s the one who convinced him he had talent. Hers was the first board he ever painted.”
“What? Why haven’t you postedthat?” Maxwell asked.
“Because I thought my mom and my brother were the only ones listening, but apparently it’s just my mom and you.” I nudged Deja with my elbow. “My brother is getting a strongly worded textlater.”
“Don’t tell him I tattled,” Deja said. “But do you think it’s true? Do you think your grandma really knew Andrew Lancaster? Was his muse or whatever?”
“I don’t know. My mom doesn’t think so. But Grandma has such a clear memory of her early years that I think it might be true.”
“I need to listen to your podcast,” Lee said.
“I want to see this painted surfboard,” Maxwell said. “Is there a picture online somewhere?”
“That’s the thing,” I said. “She supposedly lent it to a friend one summer, never to see it again.”
“What’s it look like?” Lee asked.
“What’s what look like?” Theo asked, coming back to the table and sliding in next to me. I tried to scoot as close as I could to Deja, but even so, his thigh and shoulder were pressed up against mine, distracting me for a moment.
“Her grandma’s surfboard,” Lee answered for me.
“Right, yes,” I said.
“Your grandma surfs?”
“Well, not anymore, but she used to, I guess. The problem is that I don’t know what the board looks like. We have no pictures.”
“Ask her on your podcast so I can hear,” Deja said.
“You have a podcast?” Theo asked.
“Not really,” I answered, but Deja said, “Yes,” at the same time.
“It has two listeners,” I said.
“A podcast is only real with a certain number of listeners?” Lee asked.
“You know what I mean,” I said.
They all pretended like they didn’t.
“We should try to find the surfboard,” Deja said.
“I don’t have much to go on,” I said.
“Try to get more, then,” she said. “Like the name of this terrible person who borrowed and didn’t return it.”
“Oh, speaking of, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Deja said. “Did you stop posting your podcast for some reason?”
My head whipped in her direction. “Have you been listening?”
“Yes! I love your grandma. And the story was just getting good. Her family moving to California. Her hating its guts. What happens next?”
I scrunched my brows together. Was that where I had left off? “Get this,” I said. “She met a surfer boy and claims that boy was Andrew Lancaster.”
“The painter?” Lee asked.
“Yes! And apparently he taught her to surf and gifted her apainted surfboard. Not only that, she’s the one who convinced him he had talent. Hers was the first board he ever painted.”
“What? Why haven’t you postedthat?” Maxwell asked.
“Because I thought my mom and my brother were the only ones listening, but apparently it’s just my mom and you.” I nudged Deja with my elbow. “My brother is getting a strongly worded textlater.”
“Don’t tell him I tattled,” Deja said. “But do you think it’s true? Do you think your grandma really knew Andrew Lancaster? Was his muse or whatever?”
“I don’t know. My mom doesn’t think so. But Grandma has such a clear memory of her early years that I think it might be true.”
“I need to listen to your podcast,” Lee said.
“I want to see this painted surfboard,” Maxwell said. “Is there a picture online somewhere?”
“That’s the thing,” I said. “She supposedly lent it to a friend one summer, never to see it again.”
“What’s it look like?” Lee asked.
“What’s what look like?” Theo asked, coming back to the table and sliding in next to me. I tried to scoot as close as I could to Deja, but even so, his thigh and shoulder were pressed up against mine, distracting me for a moment.
“Her grandma’s surfboard,” Lee answered for me.
“Right, yes,” I said.
“Your grandma surfs?”
“Well, not anymore, but she used to, I guess. The problem is that I don’t know what the board looks like. We have no pictures.”
“Ask her on your podcast so I can hear,” Deja said.
“You have a podcast?” Theo asked.
“Not really,” I answered, but Deja said, “Yes,” at the same time.
“It has two listeners,” I said.
“A podcast is only real with a certain number of listeners?” Lee asked.
“You know what I mean,” I said.
They all pretended like they didn’t.
“We should try to find the surfboard,” Deja said.
“I don’t have much to go on,” I said.
“Try to get more, then,” she said. “Like the name of this terrible person who borrowed and didn’t return it.”
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