Deep Water (Simon True) - Softcover

Buch 2 von 4: Simon True

Nichols, Katherine

 
9781481481069: Deep Water (Simon True)
Softcover
ISBN 10: 1481481061 ISBN 13: 9781481481069
Verlag: S&S Books for Young Readers, 2017

Inhaltsangabe

Real stories. Real teens. Real crimes.

A group of teens traffic drugs between Mexico and California in this start to the brand-new Simon True series.

It’s 1971 in Coronado, a small southern California beach town. For seventeen-year-old Eddie Otero, a skilled waterman and avid surfer, life is simple. Then a friend makes him an offer: Swim an illicit package across the border from Mexico. The intense workout is dangerous. Thrilling. Lucrative. And the beginning of a small business.

When the young entrepreneurs involve their former high school Spanish teacher, the smuggling adventure grows into a one hundred million dollar global operation.

Soon they become fugitives. Living on the edge, they vow to return to their normal lives—right after one last run…

Die Inhaltsangabe kann sich auf eine andere Ausgabe dieses Titels beziehen.

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Katherine Nichols is a former teacher and longtime journalist who has contributed to numerous publications, including the magazines for The New York Times and San Francisco Chronicle. An athlete since childhood, Katherine is a three-time finisher of the Ironman Triathlon World Championship in Hawaii. She grew up in Coronado and currently lives in Boston.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

Chapter 1: Spring 1969

Chapter 1 SPRING 1969
EDDIE OTERO STEPPED ONTO THE corner of Seventh Street and D Avenue just as Mr. Lou Villar inched his red-and-silver Corvette into a parking space in front of the Coronado High School campus. No matter how many times Eddie saw the car, he always stopped to gaze at the lines, soak in the color, listen to the sound of the engine, feel the speed of the vehicle while it idled.

Mr. Villar stepped out and ran a hand through his dark hair. He wore a crisp, white button-down shirt with a pen positioned at the edge of the pocket, and a narrow black tie. As usual, a pair of Ray-Ban Wayfarer shades covered his eyes—even on cloudy days. Even inside the classroom.

“Hey, Eddie,” Mr. Villar said as he tapped the driver’s-side door into place and glided toward the sidewalk. Eddie, nearing the end of his freshman year, was not in any of Mr. Villar’s Spanish classes. But they were acquainted through Eddie’s involvement in water polo and swimming, sports Mr. Villar had helped coach—along with basketball—since he’d become a teacher at Coronado High School in 1965.

Like other swimmers’, Eddie’s hair, bleached and wispy from chlorine and salt water and sun, flew in all directions, like a dandelion in the breeze. Not that he ever looked in the mirror. He just found himself jerking his head to the side to move tousled strands out of his eyes. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d visited the barber uptown. But it didn’t matter. The school enforced no dress code, just an expected social norm—unless you were a drug addict or a complete dork. A few years earlier kids had come to school as if on their way to a job interview: modest mid-calf-length skirts and sweater sets for the girls, collared dress shirts and short hair for the guys. But that seemed like a generation ago.

As Eddie listened to Mr. Villar encourage him to work harder at swimming and water polo (something about wasting his potential as a capable freshman who could become a team leader), the campus came to life. Students parked their Schwinn beach cruisers against palm trees on Seventh Street; some wrapped cable locks around skinnier trunks, and two or three used the pole of a stop sign, fitting their bikes together like puzzle pieces. A lucky few who drove to school pulled into the remaining empty spaces along the curb on D Avenue and Sixth and Seventh Streets.

Eddie adjusted the backpack slung over one shoulder, hooked a thumb under the strap, and strolled toward the classroom past fellow students gathering on the quad according to well-defined cliques. Constructed in 1922, the original Coronado High School had been torn down. In 1960 the city floated bonds, and a demolition derby of sorts made room for a nondescript midcentury structure painted a faded yellow. Eddie thought it looked like the color of mustard that had dried and crusted on your kitchen counter after about three weeks.

The Coronado Islander mascot—a tiki reminiscent of the figures on Easter Island—stood on the edge of the patio, looking badass. A gift from the class of 1960 (probably mourning the disappearance of their old school), the tiki appeared to be constructed from rough lava rock scooped up after a volcanic eruption. It was a big deal, but Eddie secretly wondered if someone had found it at a street market in Tijuana.

When lunch finally arrived, Eddie was fiddling with a combination he couldn’t quite remember when a familiar voice traveled down the open-air hall, echoing off the metal lockers.

“Eddiieee! Oscar’s. Right now. Let’s go.”

Once in a while, Robert Lahodny showed up to say hello to various teachers and visit Lou Villar, his favorite, or eat lunch with Eddie. Despite graduating the year before, nobody minded that Bob, or “Lights,” as some called him, wandered around campus whenever he pleased. A former athlete and class president, with dark hair and Steve McQueen-like charisma, Bob had been a good student and yearned for those glory days. He enjoyed the short bursts of recognition that accompanied a stroll across campus. Eddie followed Bob to his car, threw his pack in the backseat, climbed into the passenger’s side, and turned on the radio.

“Hey, uh, I only have thirty cents,” Eddie mumbled. “Can you spot me lunch?”

“Tell you what: Use that to buy me a gallon of gas on the way, and I’ll get your lunch.”

They pulled into Oscar’s on C Avenue, a few blocks from the high school, and immediately looked around to see who else was there. A waitress approached the car and bent over to write their order on a slip of paper, giving them an excellent view. “So?” she asked.

Eddie paused, trying to slow the process while he gazed down her shirt. “Um, I can’t decide. What do you recommend?”

She smirked. “Really?”

Bob shook his head. “Sorry, we’ll have the usual.”

“Right. I’m new and don’t know your ‘usual.’?”

“Burger, Coke, fries. Two of each.”

“Make that three fries,” Eddie interjected.

“You got it,” she said.

In the bustling lunch scene, Bob and Eddie overheard people talk about meeting at the Long Bar that weekend. Infamous for the ease with which a minor could purchase alcohol, the Long Bar had become the go-to location for parties and even better day-after narratives.

“Wanna go?” Bob asked.

“Definitely,” Eddie said, already considering the story he would offer his parents. Benefit of the Long Bar: no carding. Drawback: It was in Mexico. A small detail, however. The trek to a different country amounted to little more than a half-hour drive, with minimal interference, as long as you didn’t breathe on the Border Patrol officer at the threshold to the United States. Tijuana sat, just barely, on the other side of the international border. It felt like California, only not quite.

As the drinking hole’s name suggested, the bar itself stretched across the entire interior, facilitating conversation, dancing (on the floor and on the actual bar), and the most uninhibited entertainment a kid from Coronado could conjure.

“Remember last time? Lizzy, man…” Eddie drifted. “She was messed up. And when that happens, she shows stuff, you know? Maybe we’ll get a flash of boob again.”

“You didn’t see anything. I was there.”

“Did so. Hey, I saw that girl Kathy earlier today, waiting for Mr. Villar.” Eddie shook his head and exhaled loudly. For a second Eddie wondered how it would feel to have a girl like that wait for his arrival, giggle at his clever remarks, wrap her arms behind his neck, press against him. “That guy has everything.”

“Lou? Yeah, I’m bummed he’s leaving.”

“Wait. What?”

“He’s always been nice to me. Like, genuine. That’s why I hang out on campus. My stepfather… I don’t know. He’s always busy anyway. Lou makes time for you. He’s like a father, brother, and a friend.”

“Yeah, he has a way of making you feel, I don’t know, important. Why’s he leaving?”

“Not sure. He might stay another year, but I think he’s kind of done....

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Verlag
S&S Books for Young Readers
Erscheinungsdatum
2017
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
1481481061
ISBN 13 
9781481481069
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
288
Kontakt zum Hersteller
Nicht verfügbar
Verantwortliche Person
Simon and Schuster Netherlands BV
info@simonandschuster.nl

Herculesplein 96
Utrecht
3584 AA
Niederlande

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