He’s either forgotten Lance gets grades or he doesn’t care, and the latter is much more likely than the former. Whatever the reason, Lance tucks his grade card into his back pocket and runs for the creek without bothering to tell his father it came.

The Chases fish during summer afternoons when it’s too hot for Robbie and Johnny to work the horses. Fishing with them is one of Lance’s favorite things—especially when it comes to riding in the back of the truck, bumping slowly over the pasture grass, until they reach the shaded banks of one of the ponds, or walking up the creek to one of the quiet pools that feed it.

Today, though, they’re going to the reservoir, and Johnny and Danny even talked Robbie into bringing the rowboat. When they get there, Robbie starts casting into the shaded water near the dock by the boat launch, and Lance casually offers to stay with him while Johnny and Danny take out the boat.

That’s how he finds himself sitting on the rocky shore next to Robbie, his shoes and socks off and his jeans rolled up, and his feet stretched into the cool water. For some reason, all he can think about is how badly he wants to show Robbie his grades.

He got straight A’s, which is even better than Danny, who argues too much in Phys-Ed and can’t make better than a B-minus.

Lance is trying to think of a way to bring up his grade card when Robbie turns with a smile and asks, “Hey, did your grades come? We got the boys’ this morning.”

Lance nods and sticks his fishing pole between his knees, already reaching into his pocket. The folded paper is kind of damp from sitting on the bank, but not too bad. Robbie takes it, still smiling, and then sets down his own pole, resting a foot on it to keep it from going anywhere as he unfolds the paper with care.

As Robbie studies the page, Lance can’t look away. He has the strangest urge to look over Robbie’s shoulder, like maybe he read the card wrong the first time. Maybe there’s something he missed, and actually it’s a bad report card, or—

Robbie slides his arm around Lance’s shoulders and gives him a little shake. The sight of his grin is like stepping out of the shade and into broad daylight. “Aw, Lance. This is amazing, buddy. I’m really proud of you.”

Lance’s heart seems to actually stop. His breath hitches so hard, he makes a little gasping sound. Robbie’s smile fades, eyes concerned. Then, searching Lance’s face, he squeezes his shoulder gently. “You know that, right?” he asks softly. “You know I’m really proud of you?”

All Lance knows is the fury of his blush—it burns, like that time he got too close to the campfire and singed his eyebrows. He shakes his head mutely, throat dry and tight.

Robbie takes a deep breath, scooting closer and holding Lance against his side. Then, he puts his face down against Lance’s head. A kiss, Lance realizes faintly, lost somewhere in the tumble of his curls.