Page 66 of The Pilot

“It is gross. And my friends and I have all heard the rumors . . . I don’t want to find out what it’s like getting my head put in a toilet while it’s flushed, thank you very much. So I have to stay on my toes. Stay alert. Be two steps ahead of Donny and his buddies.”

Once again, Harper was sad that her son was dealing with bullies. Just because he wasn’t into sports, and enjoyed learning and school, and had bright-red hair, didn’t mean he was less than anyone else. Donny and his friends had no right to treat him like shit because he wasn’t like them . . . but then again, hadn’t she done the same thing?

“All right, but if there’s anything I can do, let me know. Pack a lunch for you so you don’t have to eat in the cafeteria, go all mama bear on Donny’s parents, speak to the teachers or principal. Promise to let me know.”

Kash gave her a horrified look, and Harper couldn’t help but chuckle.

“No, Mom. I’ve got this. I can outsmart Donny. Stay out of it.”

“Fine, but if you don’t think I can help, you know Linc and his brothers would be happy to step in as well.”

“I know. And trust me, if it comes to it, I’ll use them as weapons in my arsenal if I need to.”

Was this her son? Weapons in his arsenal? Where was he getting this?

“I finished the first robot I got from the subscription you got me for Christmas, did you see?”

Relieved that he was changing the subject, Harper nodded. “It’s cool for sure.”

Kash went on to chatter for ten minutes straight about what it took to build the robot and what it could do. Pleased as she could be that she’d gotten him a gift that he genuinely loved, Harper nodded in all the right places and was content to simply listen to her son talk.

When he finally wound down, she asked about the robotics club again. “You think you can use some of what you learned building that robot in your club?”

Kash shrugged. “Maybe. We have that competition coming up, and we’ve already made our robot for it. But I have some ideas for what we can do next.”

“That’s right, when is the competition again? You okay going? It’s two nights away from home.”

“It’s in two weeks. And why wouldn’t I be okay? Mr. Simpson is driving one of the school vans, and we’re psyched to see how our robot will do in the competition. We should at least win a ribbon for construction. But how it’ll hold up in the arena is a huge question mark. That’s the hard thing . . . you have to build something cool that will look interesting and do what it’s supposed to do, but won’t get smashed in the first round of fighting.”

All Harper knew about the robotics club was that the kids built robots they used to fight other homemade robots during a fight-club kind of thing. She’d seen bits and pieces of a show on TV that did the same thing, but she didn’t exactly enjoy watching.

“Well, it’s just over in Portland, so if something happens or if you want to come home, all you have to do is call. Or text. You know Linc and I will come get you in a heartbeat.”

“Mooooom,” Kash complained. “I’m not a baby. I think I can survive two nights without you. Besides, you and Linc will have the house to yourself. You can do anything you want while I’m gone.” He smirked and raised his brows up and down suggestively.

“Kash!” Harper exclaimed, genuinely embarrassed at what her son was suggesting.

He laughed uncontrollably. When he had himself under control, he was still smiling as he said, “Seriously, Mom. It’s gonna be fun. I’m looking forward to hanging out with my friends and kicking some robot butt. I’m glad you have Linc now to look out for you. If we weren’t living with him, I probably wouldn’t have gone on the trip because I wouldn’t have wanted to leave you alone.”

Her kid was the sweetest. “I love you too, kiddo,” she told him.

He blushed, then looked down at his phone when it dinged. “How much longer?” he asked. “Linc just texted and wanted to know.”

She loved that Linc constantly texted Kash, and that he seemed to enjoy the attention.

“About twenty minutes, according to my phone’s directions,” she told him.

He tapped out a reply to Linc, then smiled at whatever he said in return.

“Mom?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Everything. For Christmas. For tonight. I can’t wait to look at the stars through their huge telescope, and to use their digital camera afterward to get super-up-close pictures. But also for taking care of me. For working so hard and moving us to Maine. For being open enough to date Linc. Just . . . everything.”