In Too Deep Read Online Free Page B

the shop when the door buzzed, and in stepped a short man in a shiny, expensive-looking suit. His hair was a blond, slicked-back number, and he was talking into a headset.
    “Yeah, I’m here now,” he said, pressing a button on his earpiece. He scanned the room quickly and took a decisive step toward my mom. “Larry Schuster,” he said, extending his hand. My mom shook it warily, but Larry moved to Josh’s side before she could say anything.
    My mom shot me a worried glance, and I knew what she was thinking: lawyer.
    “You okay, buddy?” Larry said, putting an awkward hand under Josh’s chin.
    Josh just nodded and turned away. “Hi, Larry.”
    “He looks good, right?” Larry said to the paramedics. “Real good. Nothing to worry about, right? Thanks for your help.”
    The paramedics seemed confused. “We’ve got to take him for observation,” the bald one said.
    “Observation.” Larry tilted his head back and laughed at the absurdity of it all. “I’m observing him right now. Looks fine.” Then he motioned for the paramedics to join him over by the ladies’ wetsuit rack, where the three men engaged in a discussion straight out of a silent movie. Nodding, shrugging, lots of fast hand gestures from Larry.
    Gracia looked at me all bug-eyed. “Say something,” she mouthed.
    “Is that your dad?” I said.
    Josh’s laugh was as unexpected as it was genuine. He winced as he pulled the electrode from his chest, and the heart line on the monitor went flat. He swung his legs around and dangled them off the side of the stretcher. I waited for the paramedics to tell him to stop. But if they noticed, they didn’t say anything.
    “Is he a lawyer?”
    “Don’t you know? That man right there is Jessica Rebstock’s agent.” Josh hopped off the stretcher and rolled his head from side to side. He bent over as if loosening up his back or his hamstrings.
    “Are you late for a track meet?” Gracia said.
    I took a tentative step toward him. “Maybe you should—”
    Larry Schuster slapped the round paramedic on his back. He retrieved a pen from within his suit coat and scrawled a signature on some kind of form. And just like that, the meeting was over. The paramedics shrugged one last time, nodded at each other, and moved back to Josh. They reminded him to take it easy, then they packed up their stretcher and left.
    “Nice work, young lady,” the bald one said to me on the way out.
    Larry went to my mom. “We’re going to get him checked out by our guy. Thanks for everything you’ve done.”
    My mom nodded like a robot, clearly just as lost as I was, and Larry put his hand on Josh’s shoulder. “Your mom will see you at home. Okay, bud?”
    “Okay, Larry,” Josh said without making eye contact. He wandered toward the fins and sat on the old yellow surfboard we use as a bench. He put his elbows on his knees and drooped his head forward.
    Larry Schuster took out his phone and dialed as he turned back to me. “We’ve already made sure the police will keep the whole thing out of the blogs and the tabloids, so you won’t get any recognition for saving him, I’m sorry, but if there’s anything you need—anything at all—please let me know.”
    He shook my hand once, quickly and firmly, before pressing a button on his headset. “Yeah, I’m back.”
    The buzzer sounded, and he was gone.
    Josh stood up but quickly staggered back, knocking into the surfboard bench. A masked mannequin was the only reason he didn’t crash all the way to the floor.
    “You should probably take it easy,” Gracia said.
    “Yeah,” I said. “Even though—”
    “I’m fine,” he said—barked would be more accurate—while looking at the floor. One arm was wrapped around the mannequin’s neck, and the other was held out to us as if stopping traffic. When he spoke next, I could hardly hear him. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”
    Gracia and I said nothing more. Josh was silent as he stepped tentatively across the