Page 122 of Rebel Summer

“I revoke the initial sentence. I hereby sentence you to jail time already served. You must complete your service hours remaining to Dax Miller. You and Mr. Miller will do two beach cleanup days. And I’d like you to organize a community effort to get the Lego car up and running. I miss it, and I know the tourists miss it as well. Anything else I can add to your sentence, Ms. Brooks?”

I couldn’t hold back the smile if I tried. “No. Thank you, Your Honor. That’s perfect.”

He glanced at the clock. “Mr. Miller, you now have twenty-five minutes to get your car to the ferry. I suggest you run.”

Dax looked at me, but before I could stand, the judge said, “I’d like to talk to you alone for a minute, Ms. Brooks.” To Dax, he added, “She’s staying. Under no circumstances will there be kissing in my office. This will be the perfect punishment for you. Go get your car off my island.”

Dax bit back a smile and gave me a look that told me he would definitely be seeing me later. He opened the door.

“And Dax?” the judge began.

“Yes, sir?”

“If you’re going to start having more of a life, why don’t you hire somebody to work for you so I don’t have to wait two weeks to get my lawnmower back.”

A grin crossed Dax’s face. “Will do, sir.”

Judge Baylor glanced at his watch and looked back up at Dax. “Your time starts now.”

With one last look at me, Dax bolted out of the judge’s office.

Once he was gone, I turned expectantly to the judge, bracing myself for whatever he might tell me.

He leaned forward at his desk, a big smile on his face. “I didn’t have anything to tell you. I just didn’t want that young man getting distracted when he only has twenty five minutes to move his car.”

I laughed, bringing my hand to my face, attempting to hide my flushed cheeks.

“Ms. Brooks.”

“Yes?” I dropped my hands in my lap.

This time, the expressive look on his face was filled more with wisdom than teasing. “As a judge on this island, there are always people who don’t approve of my decisions: neighbors, friends…politicians.”

My eyes flitted up to his.

He kept going. “That’s something we all have to learn to live with. But we still have to make decisions—we have to take charge of our own lives. Our freedom to choose is the most important thing we have in this country, even if it might hurt or anger somebody else. Part of life is knowing that there is going to be disappointment sometimes." He leaned forward, his chair squeaking. “But when it comes to matters of your life and your heart, it shouldn't be you that’s disappointed.”

I nodded, grateful for this man’s kindness toward me. “Thank you.”

“And off the record, Ms. Brooks—even teenage altercations included, you’d be hard-pressed to find a better man in the world than Dax Miller.”

Smiling, I stood up to go. “I definitely know that.”

Biology Class

Day 52

It was our last day in class. The last five minutes, actually, if the slow tick of the clock could be trusted. The last biology class of my high school career. Dax drummed his fingers on the table, ignoring me to listen to a song through his earbuds.

To my surprise, he suddenly turned toward me, a determined aloofness in his eyes.

“I’ve got a question for you, Books.”

I blinked at him. “What?”

“Why is DNA so good at solving crimes?”

His face was so carefully passive, you almost wouldn’t know that we’d ever had any moment between us outside of this class.

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