your arm.”
I rolled my eyes. Was it always going to be like this between us? “We're adults now. I sat by you because I wanted to.” Not the full truth but whatever. “Why can't we just get along? And I do really want to know...why this pool?”
He took a deep, relaxed breath. “Relentless, aren't you?”
I shrugged. Was being relentless a crime? I glanced around. What was so damn special about this pool? Other people, perhaps. There were a rather large number of attractive guys here today, something I hadn't noticed before. And then something dawned on me that I had never considered—something I wondered aloud. “Are you gay, Leo?”
I regretted the words the moment they slipped out. Leo shot to his feet in an instant and yanked off his sunglasses, giving me a clearer view of his blazing eyes. “Do you spend your free time just trying to think of ways to purposely piss me the fuck off, Clara? Because you're really good at it and it's working out too well for you.”
I scrambled to my feet, my hands landing on my hips. “No,” I said in a low voice, trying not to draw any additional attention. “If you're gay, you can tell me. I wouldn't tell anyone else.”
“I want to know why you're asking me this,” he said through gritted teeth.
Jeez la weez. “I don't know. You always dress so well—better than girls—and you have such a weird friendship with Maggie. I've never seen you with a girl or even heard Maggie mention you dating someone. Don't be such a homophobe, it was an honest question.”
“First, you assume I'm gay and now you accuse me of being a homophobe. Which is it, Clara?” he groaned. “I have a question for you. Are you gay?”
I blinked up at him. “What?”
“Where's your boyfriend? Where are all of your girl friends? I haven't seen you with either. You certainly excelled at being a tomboy growing up. And even now, even when you go to the pool—” He glanced deliberately down at my bathing suit. “You can't dress for shit. So why don’t you satisfy my curiosity…are you a lesbian? If you are, you can tell me. I wouldn't tell anyone else.”
I hadn't asked him if he was gay to be mean, but somehow he took my words, turned them inside out, and used them against me. I wanted to punch him in his face or worse, but I did no such thing. My best defense mechanism—indifference—came rushing to my rescue. I yawned, acting as if this conversation was boring the crap out of me, and stared blankly up at him. “Grow up,” I said, dropping to my butt and lying back down on my towel.
“We will never get along,” he groaned, glaring down at me, the sun shining around his silhouette like a gold lining. “Because you will never stop infuriating me. If you must know, I came to the pool today because I wanted some company—or at least the illusion of it—but I'd prefer being alone to being with you.”
“You're blocking my sun,” I said, ready for this pointless conversation to be over.
He groaned again, even louder this time. “You're insufferable. I hope your milky-white skin burns. And buy a bikini. You aren't eighty or fat, so I don't get why you're always wearing that damn thing.”
I let out a slow breath. On the inside my blood turned to lava, but I kept all expression off my face. “This suit used to be my mother's, asshole. Now can you please move? You really are blocking my light.”
Leo walked away without saying another word.
Now that I think about it, Leo and I didn't speak again that summer. But my “milky-white skin”—as he so delicately put it— had burned. I think God had been on Leo's side because I looked like a lobster for a whole week after that fight.
Knock, knock.
Someone banged on Steph's door, ripping me from thoughts. Grateful for the interruption, I poked Snoring Beauty in the ribs. “Wake up.”
“Mommy, no. I won't eat the cornbread, it's stale.”
“Steph!”
“What?” She rolled, falling from the bed, and landed straight on the
I rolled my eyes. Was it always going to be like this between us? “We're adults now. I sat by you because I wanted to.” Not the full truth but whatever. “Why can't we just get along? And I do really want to know...why this pool?”
He took a deep, relaxed breath. “Relentless, aren't you?”
I shrugged. Was being relentless a crime? I glanced around. What was so damn special about this pool? Other people, perhaps. There were a rather large number of attractive guys here today, something I hadn't noticed before. And then something dawned on me that I had never considered—something I wondered aloud. “Are you gay, Leo?”
I regretted the words the moment they slipped out. Leo shot to his feet in an instant and yanked off his sunglasses, giving me a clearer view of his blazing eyes. “Do you spend your free time just trying to think of ways to purposely piss me the fuck off, Clara? Because you're really good at it and it's working out too well for you.”
I scrambled to my feet, my hands landing on my hips. “No,” I said in a low voice, trying not to draw any additional attention. “If you're gay, you can tell me. I wouldn't tell anyone else.”
“I want to know why you're asking me this,” he said through gritted teeth.
Jeez la weez. “I don't know. You always dress so well—better than girls—and you have such a weird friendship with Maggie. I've never seen you with a girl or even heard Maggie mention you dating someone. Don't be such a homophobe, it was an honest question.”
“First, you assume I'm gay and now you accuse me of being a homophobe. Which is it, Clara?” he groaned. “I have a question for you. Are you gay?”
I blinked up at him. “What?”
“Where's your boyfriend? Where are all of your girl friends? I haven't seen you with either. You certainly excelled at being a tomboy growing up. And even now, even when you go to the pool—” He glanced deliberately down at my bathing suit. “You can't dress for shit. So why don’t you satisfy my curiosity…are you a lesbian? If you are, you can tell me. I wouldn't tell anyone else.”
I hadn't asked him if he was gay to be mean, but somehow he took my words, turned them inside out, and used them against me. I wanted to punch him in his face or worse, but I did no such thing. My best defense mechanism—indifference—came rushing to my rescue. I yawned, acting as if this conversation was boring the crap out of me, and stared blankly up at him. “Grow up,” I said, dropping to my butt and lying back down on my towel.
“We will never get along,” he groaned, glaring down at me, the sun shining around his silhouette like a gold lining. “Because you will never stop infuriating me. If you must know, I came to the pool today because I wanted some company—or at least the illusion of it—but I'd prefer being alone to being with you.”
“You're blocking my sun,” I said, ready for this pointless conversation to be over.
He groaned again, even louder this time. “You're insufferable. I hope your milky-white skin burns. And buy a bikini. You aren't eighty or fat, so I don't get why you're always wearing that damn thing.”
I let out a slow breath. On the inside my blood turned to lava, but I kept all expression off my face. “This suit used to be my mother's, asshole. Now can you please move? You really are blocking my light.”
Leo walked away without saying another word.
Now that I think about it, Leo and I didn't speak again that summer. But my “milky-white skin”—as he so delicately put it— had burned. I think God had been on Leo's side because I looked like a lobster for a whole week after that fight.
Knock, knock.
Someone banged on Steph's door, ripping me from thoughts. Grateful for the interruption, I poked Snoring Beauty in the ribs. “Wake up.”
“Mommy, no. I won't eat the cornbread, it's stale.”
“Steph!”
“What?” She rolled, falling from the bed, and landed straight on the
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