Page 121 of The Sweet Spot

“It was all this kid,” he says, holding his hand up. “He wouldn’t let up. I just let him know where we were going to be.”

Luca stands by my side, offering his hand to Arlo once he’s close enough. “Thanks for letting me shoot my shot.”

“What can I say? I’m a sucker for second chances.” They shake, and Arlo claps his back affectionately. “Now, are you gonna teach my girl to surf, or what?”

Luca cuts me a smile, his hand sliding into mine. “If that’s what she wants.”

I nudge a board with my toe. “It is what I want.”

“Then come on.” He grabs a board, motioning for me to take the other. “Vamos, meu anjo.”

Wren

One Year Later

Kellan pulls up to the curb at San Jose International airport, braking so hard we all jerk forward.

“Jeez!” yells Saira, bracing herself against the Jeep’s dashboard. “You trying to kill us?”

“Gotta get these kids on their flight,” he says, turning to look at Luca and me. “You need help with your bags?”

“No, we’re good,” Luca says, giving him a fist bump. “Five stars, Uber Driver.”

I stretch forward, kissing Saira’s cheek before opening my door. “Bye! I’ll text you once we’re there.”

“You better!” She pokes her head out the window. “I want postcards, too!”

Luca’s already got my stuff when I meet him outside. Giving our friends one last wave goodbye, we hurry into the airport. There’s no time to waste; we have a flight to catch, and we’re running behind schedule. Thankfully, neither of us is checking a bag, so we go straight to security.

It occurs to me, as I slip off my shoes and put them in a grey bin, that this is now normal for me. The first time I went to see Arlo in Manhattan, the TSA people practically had to hold my hand as I fumbled through the essentials.

Luca grins over his shoulder as he empties his pockets. That’s the other thing: I might be a seasoned traveler now, but this is my first time going on a trip with Luca. He’s met Arlo and me abroad a couple times—Costa Rica one summer, Paris another—but this time we’re flying to Brazil together.

Because Carlos, Luca’s father, is getting married.

* * *

Thanks to a couple of layovers, it takes us nearly twenty-one hours to get to São Paulo. I usually can’t sleep on planes, but Luca and I both knock out during the night thanks to the edibles Kellan gave us. I get a bleary-eyed impression of the city the next morning as our taxi takes us from São Paulo-Guarulhos International Airport to the Cardosos’ apartment downtown.

“Wow,” I say through a yawn, gazing at the leafy, hilly streets of the famous Jardins district. “This is so pretty.”

“You should see Pai’s new house,” Luca murmurs, leaning close as we take in the sights. “He’s been sending pictures. It’s a few blocks away, and it’s just ridiculous.”

“So, why doesn’t he live in the apartment anymore?”

“Mariana wanted a pool.” Luca smirks. “She likes to entertain.”

Mariana is Carlos’ fiancée. Apparently, the two met at a fundraiser last year and really hit it off—she’s a hotshot in the corporate world, too. They’ve already gone ahead to Rio de Janeiro to prepare for the wedding, which takes place next week, but Luca wanted to show me around his city first.

The taxi pulls up to a classy residential building on a sun-dappled, tree-lined street. The driver jumps out to retrieve our bags from the trunk, and Luca tips him as I dawdle nearby, gawking at how nice the building is. Luca waves to the doorman, who lets us inside with a grin. “Bem vindo de volta, Sr. Cardoso.”

“Obrigado, Sr. Luís,” Luca says, giving him a handshake as we pass by.

I give Luís a cheesy grin and a “oi!” as I follow my boyfriend into the lobby. “These are like, luxury condos,” I whisper accusingly. “You said it was an apartment!”

“Same thing,” says Luca, shrugging as we wait for the elevator.

“No, an apartment is what Mom has in Santa Cruz.”

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