Professor Cox is back. It’s been six weeks, seven thunderstorms, and five more Episodes since the tomato attack in June. Everyone’s talking about the unusual summer weather: rain sixteen days this month, and it’s the middle of August. On the very few hot days, the pool is packed with kids, and I want to scream from the chaos and the claustrophobia, and on the very many cool and rainy days, the pool is empty, and I want to scream from boredom.
Today is one of those days.
It hasn’t rained since the morning, but the sky is gray and dark, and Professor Cox is the only one in the water. He’s swimming in circles and singing kids’ songs to himself: “If You’re Happy and You Know It,” “She’ll Be Coming ’Round the Mountain,” “The Ants Go Marching.” Virgo’s on duty, and after a while, he joins in his deep baritone voice. Professor Cox gives him a thumbs-up and then sings more loudly.
“This is so depressing,” Sammie says. “This is just the summer of suck. It won’t stop raining, you’re a mess, in one month I’m moving to a new apartment and a new school, and I now have to listen to those two all afternoon.”
“Not exactly summer perfection, huh?”
“Nope. Far from it.” She reads from her phone. “‘Your mood may be swayed by electronic disturbances from the planetary shifts that are inevitable and real. It’s not too late to take charge, though. Change it up. Move a little. Play some music and dance. Take a risk, and you’ll find that those around you will respond in kind. Perhaps even the planets will move with you, too.’”
“Is that mine or yours?”
“Mine.” She presses a few more buttons on her phone. “You don’t want to know yours. ‘Worries about the integrity of important relationships in your life … taking action … letting them know what’s on your mind—’”
“That’s enough, thanks.”
“Yeah. Like I said.”
Evan arrives for work, and Sammie and I shift in our seats uncomfortably.
He comes into the office, stuffs his jacket into his locker, and puts on his whistle.
He looks at me. “Are you okay?”
“What?” It’s the first time he’s talked to me in a month.
“I don’t know. You look like you’re upset about something. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I mean, kind of.” I look at Sammie. “I’m fine.”
“Okay…,” he says, but he says it like it’s a question, like he doesn’t believe me. He has a guitar with him, which he places under the counter next to me. “Do you mind if I leave this here? Can you keep an eye on it?”
“Sure,” I say. “Go for it.”
Sammie perks up. “You should play for us. Professor Cox and Virgo are in the middle of a sing-along, and my horoscope is saying that I should get up and dance.” She kicks my leg. “Vivi, wouldn’t you like to hear him play?”
What is she doing? “Um, sure?”
Evan gives me a funny look. It’s a look of betrayal. Of distrust. Like he knows that the girl who kissed him and then went crazy and threw him away is lying to him. Again.
“Maybe,” he says. “We’ll see.” He grabs his rescue tube and heads toward the water.
“What was that?”
“I know you’re in crisis mode, but I’m not giving up on you.”
“You honestly think that getting into a relationship with someone is going to be the thing that helps me?”
“No,” she says. “I think confronting your parents and demanding that they pay for the many years of therapy they owe you is going to be the thing that helps. But you have to face the truth, Vivi. Besides me, you don’t have anyone else. And I’m leaving the city in a month. So having another friend, someone like Evan, who genuinely likes you, who genuinely cares about you, can’t hurt, either.”
“Ugh.” I slide into my chair. “I really hate you sometimes, you know that?”
“Yeah, I know,” she says. “Because you know I’m right. I’m always right.”
*
The rains come again a few hours later, complete with a cold wind, lightning and thunder, and small chunks of hail. Professor Cox doesn’t want to get out of the water, even though he’s getting blasted by ice, and Virgo has to yell at him that the pool is closed and that if he doesn’t get out, he’ll have to call security. That doesn’t work, either, but Professor Cox gets out when Evan finally yells, “Okay, then, Professor Cox, how about the police?”
He scrambles out of the water and runs out of the pool area, leaving his towel on a chair.
Evan and Virgo duck into the office out of the hail.
“I feel bad,” Evan says. “I shouldn’t have threatened him with the police.”
Virgo asks, “Do you think he’ll be teaching in the fall?”
“No,” Sammie says. “He’s going on a sort of emergency sabbatical for a year. My mom’s been helping to advocate for him. But I don’t know if she’s going to help as much after we move.”
“You’re moving?” Virgo asks. “Where to?”
“The suburbs.” Sammie sticks her finger in her mouth and fake gags.