Page 127 of Sporty Girls Don't Fall For Loners

“Because he was worried she’d get hurt.”

“But she did,” Brock points out. “And she had to go to the hospital. Mom and Dad love telling us how he snuck into her hospital bed and stayed with her for a few hours. Made her feel better. Blergh on the romance, but cool on the fact that he made her feel good.”

Grandma laughs. “I definitely wouldn’t have allowed that if I was aware. Grandpa still gets nervous when he watches your games, Zoey. Even though it’s a recording and he knows you’re okay.” She shakes her head with a smile. “Your grandpa.”

“Zo’s really tough,” Brock says as he starts his waffle. “I bet if she got wiped out, she’d get right back on her feet and continue playing like nothing happened.”

“Hey, that was really sweet, Brock,” I say. “Thanks.”

“Don’t get mushy.”

“Come here and let me give you a sisterly kiss.” I pretend like I’m reaching for him.

“Get your sisterly lips away from me!”

“I love hearing happy voices in the morning,” Grandpa announces as he walks into the kitchen. “Good morning, everyone.” He stops off at Grandma to give her a kiss before joining us at the table.

“Good morning, Grandpa,” I say. “I’m so excited to sail.”

“You’re going to let me steer, right?” Brock asks him.

“Sure, if you’re up for it.”

He grins at me. “You gotta watch me, Zo. I’m like a pro. Hey, that rhymes! I’m such a pro and I’ll show it off to my sister, Zo. Because she didn’t know how far I can go…”

“Look at that. You’re a poet and you didn’t even know it,” I say.

“I’m a guy of many talents.” He grins again and takes another bite of his waffle.

Grandpa goes over the sailing rules with me. I’ve been on the boat every time I visited, but he just wants to make sure I’m briefed. After we stuff ourselves with breakfast, we say goodbye to Grandma—who doesn’t feel like going sailing—and head to the car.

On the way, we continue filling each other in on our lives and then we get on the boat. As promised, Grandpa lets Brock pilot the boat and only helps him one time, which makes Brock super happy. In fact, he looks extremely happy the entire time. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen him smile this much. I think this is the first time he’s been passionate about something since the accident.

“You really are a pro and have done a fabulous job showing off to your sister, Zo,” I tell him.

He playfully pushes my shoulder, trying to hide a proud smile.

I love feeling the wind blow through my hair and the saltwater hitting my face and the exposed areas of my skin. There’s something so calming about it.

Grandpa and Brock love going fishing. I’ve never really been a fan of it, even though I tag along sometimes. But we don’t plan to fish during my visit.

When we’re far out at sea, Brock kills the engine and we just float in the middle of the ocean, taking in the breathtaking sight. I’m not into nature like my brother, but I have to admit that this is quite the view.

“I wonder how many sharks are down there,” I say to Brock.

“Hopefully lots,” Brock says as he bends down to look through the water. “Don’t get extinct, beautiful creatures,” he whispers to them.

“Please stay in the boat, Brock,” Grandpa tells him.

“Sorry.” He pulls himself back inside. “Who wants to hear a fun fact about sharks? Okay, true or false: sharks have bones.”

“False,” I say. “You’ve grilled this into me since you were eight. Shark skeletons are made of cartilage instead of bones.”

“Nice, Zoey. I’m surprised you actually listened to me.”

“I can’t turn off my ears,” I joke.

“Shark fact number two.” He holds up two fingers. “What does a shark’s skin feel like?”

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