Page 17 of Fish Out of Water

Jake rolled his eyes, immediately regretting the motion. “Can you just shut the fuck up and mind your own business? Thanks for helping me out last night, but I don’t owe you anything. Just leave me alone.”

“Fine.”

Robbie hung up, leaving Jake sitting on his end with a dead line. He set his phone down a few seconds later, dropping his head into his hands as he ran his palms across his sore face.

Isabel offered to take him to the police station, but Jake declined, preferring to face his shame alone. It was bad enough that he had to walk into the station with a bruise that covered almost half his face, and it was even worse that he was going to have to try to explain what happened when he couldn’t even remember most of the parts that didn’t involve Robbie.

He walked out of the station with a folder of documents to take to the Eventide town hall so he could begin his community service as soon as possible.

The town hall was a more pleasant atmosphere than the police station, however, and Jake didn’t mind waiting in the air-conditioned lobby for a few minutes.

“Jake Wynn?” The woman at the front desk called him up. “Hi, I’m Sarah.” She smiled warmly, her lips parting to show off a beautiful row of teeth. A few tendrils of dark, curly hair rested on her forehead, while the rest was pulled back behind her head in a puff.

“Hey,” Jake said. “I’m, uh, I’m scheduled to complete sixty hours of community service in Eventide.” He handed her the folder with the accompanying papers. “I just need to know what I’ll be doing.”

“Community service? Ah, well, you’ll be volunteering at the beach then—picking up litter, washing picnic tables and benches, getting graffiti off the bathroom walls—those sorts of things.”

Jake grimaced. “Lovely.”

Sarah chuckled. “It’s not so bad. There are some great folks who volunteer there regularly. The time will just fly by once you get used to it. Now, all you have to do is get your papers signed by your designated supervisor at the park every time you volunteer, and report back here with your completed hours before the deadline on that top paper there. I recommend trying to get an hour in each day, so that way you pace yourself and don’t get burned out. Will your job accommodate that?”

“I don’t have a job,” Jake said. “I’m… taking some time off to help my aunt. She can work around my schedule just fine.”

“Perfect.”

“Who’s my supervisor, though?”

“It’s all on that top sheet.”

She tapped the first page sitting on top of the folder, and Jake looked down at it. He squinted, bringing the paper closer to his eyes. It wasn’t possible. He had to be reading the name wrong.

“I’ll see you back here at the end of the week, Mr. Wynn. Good luck!”

“Wait, I have one more question.”

Sarah looked up. “Yes?”

“Can I change my supervisor?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Great. Thanks.” Jake hurried out of the town hall and onto the hot, sunny sidewalk. If it wouldn’t have hurt too much, he might have actually started crying. His first week in Eventide had somehow managed to be a disaster, and there wasn’t even anything here worth getting into trouble for.

When Jake triedto go to bed that night, it was still damp where he had sat in wet clothes talking to Robbie. With a huff, he stripped the fitted sheet off, only to find that the water had seeped through to the mattress, too. He fixed the blankets over it until the spot was covered enough for him not to feel it.

His head ached more now than it had when he’d woken up, if that was even possible, so he lay down carefully, as though he were tying to keep a bomb buried inside his brain from exploding. He was about to turn off the light when there was a knock at the bedroom door.

“Are you asleep, Jakey?”

“Not yet.”

“May I come in?”

“Yeah.” He sat up in bed slowly, yawned, and did very little to make himself look presentable for his aunt.

She came in and sat down on the edge of the bed, not noticing the mess of blankets—or if she did, she didn’t say anything. “We haven’t gotten much of a chance to talk yet after what happened last night,” she said gently.

“Oh, Aunt Isabel,” Jake groaned, “I don’t wanna talk about that.”