Page 26 of Hit the Ground
I hung up, staring at the kitchen wall for a long minute. Then I gathered the camp papers, squared the edges, and set them where I couldn’t ignore them in the morning.
Chapter Nine
Alice
Iwasn’tsurprisedwhenJesse Kelly stopped by my desk two days later. First, he was a fixture at the library, and second, because of the conversation I’d had with his father.
The last two days, I’d mulled over my choice to give Jesse information about the camp, and finally decided I’d done nothing wrong. If either of his parents ever came inside the library, I would have spoken to them first. Maybe I should have made more of an effort there, but I’d been excited to tell Jesse about the opportunity I’d found for him.
Only to be ripped a new one, as much as I hated that expression.
I rose from my seat and smiled. “Hey, Jess.”
The way he rubbed the back of his neck reminded me of his dad. “Hey, Ms. Clark. Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Of course you can.”
Jesse Kelly was something special. He’d been curious since the day I met him, never too shy to ask questions and learn about the world around him. The first couple years, his interests were varied, bouncing from one topic to the next. Lately, he’d homedin on robotics and history—two subjects I wouldn’t say matched, but that was how his mind worked.
“Well, I wanted to tell you I’m sorry. I didn’t know my dad was going to come in here, and I don’t know what he said, but I hope—”
I raised my hand. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Your father had questions I hope I was able to answer. Don’t worry even for a second.”
His brows rose, crinkling his forehead. “Yeah? Are you sure?”
“Positive.” I waved it away. “It’s in the past. Now, tell me about your club meeting yesterday. Are you guys ready for the competition?”
His whole face lit up, his worries falling away. “Almost. We worked on adjusting the gripper arm because it wasn’t rotating smoothly enough to grab the blocks off the ground. We figured maybe the motor was bad, but it turned out one of the wires was loose. So we fixed that, and now it’s working way better.”
“That sounds really awesome,” I said, smiling at the way his hands moved as he explained. “Did you get to test it out?”
“Yep, ran a full practice match, and we killed it. Except”—he grimaced, shoulders hunching a little—“we realized it was too heavy on one side. Every time we turned it too fast, it tipped, so we had to take off part of the frame and replace it with a lighter panel. I think it’ll work better now, but we won’t know until we test it tomorrow.”
I leaned my elbows on the desk. “That’s how real engineers do it. They solve problems on the fly.”
He grinned, ducking his head sheepishly. “I guess. I just hope it works. If it tips during competition, I might throw up right there on the mat.”
I laughed. “Let’s hope for everyone’s sake it stays upright.”
He laughed too, his shoulders relaxing as he rocked back on his heels. “Thanks for listening, Ms. Clark. It…helps. Talking about it.”
“Anytime, Jess. You know where to find me.”
He nodded and stepped back, but before he turned to go, he said quietly, “And thanks again for the camp thing. I still really wanna go.”
My chest tightened, but I kept my smile, hoping against hope he wasn’t disappointed. “Let’s cross our fingers. No matter what happens, though, you should be really proud of yourself for all the work you’ve put into learning robotics. I couldn’t be prouder.”
His ears turned pink, and with a little wave, he hurried back toward his favorite table to study at, leaving me with a heart that ached in too many ways to count.
For the second time since I’d taken over as head librarian of Sugar Brush Community Library, Caleb Kelly strode up to my desk. I didn’t even have to look up to know it was him. The wall of him blocked out the light for miles around, and his footsteps were rolls of thunder in a calm sky.
Even knowing it was him, I took my time looking up…and up…and up. Not as a power move—to brace myself for his next onslaught.
Finally, I stood, meeting his gaze head-on.
“Hey,” he gruffed, rubbing the back of his neck like his son had a couple hours ago. “Am I interrupting?”
I flung my hand toward my computer. “Just…you know, work. It can wait a minute or two.”
