Riptide by Lindsey Scheibe

What’s the scoop? How does an intern get to do more than make copies? Besides—you can speak a little espa ñ ol with me.” I look around conspiratorially. Then I whisper, “I won’t tell. Cross mi corazon .”
    She fights a smile and waves me away. “It’s a good thing you’re early today.”
    I back away from her desk and bow. “Only para ti .”
    She waves me away, but her cheeks are red.
    I sit down and say, “Nice glasses. Kind of hipsterish.”
    She types furiously on her keyboard. “ Gracias . And you might talk to Jada. There’s an immigration case they’ve taken on and all the paralegals and admins are going nuts trying to keep up with the caseload, which means you might get to do something besides make copies.”
    Aw, yeah. I smile wide. “¿ Que ?”
    She says, “You heard me.”
    “Yeah. I heard you.”
    Teresa adjusts her headset and gets back to typing.
    Brianna walks in looking like a Banana Republic model. And while it’s not free-spirited hippie-girl clothes, she’s looking good. But I like Grace’s look better. And even though I’m surrounded by hot girls all summer, they don’t hold a candle to Grace. An office romance would have nothing on our middle-of-the-night beanbag tryst. But there’s nothing wrong with a little innocent flirting—I’ve never been one to ignore a pretty girl.
    She gives me a slight nod and takes a seat a couple chairs down from me.
    I laugh and smell my pits. “I swear I doubled up today. Really.” Then I pat the chair next to me.
    Brianna rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “Where’s your pride?”
    I shrug. “Lost. With my ego?”
    She picks at imaginary lint. “I doubt that.”
    A slight bit of guilt crosses over me as I think of Grace. But what am I supposed to do? She’s off-limits. I gulp down the ache in my throat. I need to get focused on my own priorities, and that includes making a difference, not copies.
    The door opens and in walks Hop.
    Teresa says, “Barely on time.”
    Hop looks at the clock. “One minute to spare. Crazies on the bus this morning.”
    Now that Hop’s here, I’m ready to break the news about our potential lucky break.
    Teresa says, “You may go to Jada’s office and get your assignment for the morning.”
    Brianna mutters, “Great. More copies.”
    “Why such a limited vision?” Hop asks. “We might graduate to filing paperwork.”
    Teresa grunts. “Fat chance.”
    I walk down the hall, whispering to Hop and Brianna about the immigration case and how we have an angle on getting to do something worthwhile this summer.
    I walk into Jada’s territory, words rolling around in my head as I wonder how to get us in on some real legal action. The tension hangs in the air like San Francisco fog.
    Well, here goes. “Good morning, Jada.”
    She glances up from behind a mountain of boxes, her tiny diamond nose ring the only thing decorating her otherwise frustrated face.
    “What?” I joke. “Are they trying to bring new meaning to the phrase buried in paperwork ?”
    She glares.
    I throw my hands up in the air in surrender. “ Ai . Sorry. Really. It looks like a ridiculous amount of stuff to process and sort.”
    Jada flicks a piece of lint off her skirt. “No shit, Sherlock.”
    I pat one of the boxes. “Listen, I know we’re newbs, but we’re not at the top of our class for nothing. I swear we could help you tear through this pretty fast and we won’t screw up.” I turn around to Brianna and Hop. “Right?”
    Brianna steps forward and says, “He’s right. Just tell us what to do and we’ll ace it for you.”
    Jada scans the three of us like she’s trying to decide if we’re for real. Then she points to a box and says, “Some of those files still need to be stamped for receiving. Date’s on the Post-it. Screw it up and somebody gets the axe, and it won’t be me. Ford, you stamp. Brianna and Hop, I’m going to show you how to sort and label.”

     
    Hop talks non-stop the entire drive to his