beast that was capable of turning ferocious in an instant. It was just another thing that we saw completely differently.
“Go on,” Keith said, encouraging me.
You can do this
, I reassured myself. I would not be one of those silly squeamish girls who let their fears hold them back. And with that final thought, I leaned over the board and began to kick. After a while, I forgot about the crabs and the jellyfish. (They hadn't arrived
yet.
What did that mean? Were they on their way?) Finally, Keith took my board away and tossed it back onto the beach.
“I want you to move your hands like this.” He showed me the stroke once again. As he reached forward and then back, the muscles in his arms popped to the surface. “Got it?”
I nodded and dropped back into the water. He lifted me up, and I began to kick and move my arms. “Good,” he said. He moved his hands out from underneath me and I immediately began to sink.
“Are you okay?” he asked, lifting me back up.
“Fine,” I said, pushing the hair out of my eyes.
“Concentrate,” I heard him say.
And then a thought popped into my head. He was close enough to kiss me.
Suddenly, I was completely underwater and Keith's strong arms were pulling me to the surface.
I coughed up the water I had inhaled, but fortunately, there was no barf involved. It was gross nonetheless. The bay is pretty much grody salt water mixed with motor oil (i.e., not much better than the pee water in the pool).
“Let's take a break,” Keith said, hastily removing his hands from my waist.
As I followed him back to the shore, I couldn't help noticing that he seemed disappointed, like a teacher whose star student had just flunked.
“I'm sorry,” I said softly after he had untied us.
“Don't worry,” he said, grabbing his towel and plopping down on the sand. “You'll get it.”
He handed me my purple beach towel, and his thumb grazed mine. I tied the towel around my waist before sitting down next to him. And there we were. Two people sitting side by side. In kissing proximity.
“I saw your mom last night,” he announced out of the blue.
My eyelids started twitching. “Barbie?”
He nodded. “After I had dinner with my dad, I went to a party on the beach. There were a lot of people from the club there.”
I imagined my mom dancing in her bra and under-pants, or something else that would ruin my life forever. My eyelids twitched faster.
“It's the first time I ever talked to her,” he said. “She seems nice.”
I knew that I should have accepted this as the compliment it was intended to be and moved on. But instead I blurted out, “She's crazy.”
So much for eloquent and profound.
He raised his eyebrows. I thought I could see the hint of a smile.
“I mean, not certifiably insane but, well, she's very different from me.”
“How so?”
Wrap it up
, I cautioned myself. “She has affairs with married men.”
Yep, that ought to do it.
“Married men?” he repeated incredulously.
I picked up a stray twig and began playing with it absentmindedly. “That's why we move so often. Every time a relationship breaks up, she wants to start fresh. At least, that's how she justifies it.”
Keith kept his gaze on me. “How often have you moved?”
“Fourteen times.”
His eyes widened in surprise. “Wow, so every year you go to a different school?”
“Almost. This is the first time I can remember thatI'm actually going to be attending the same school two years in a row.”
Keith stretched his legs out and leaned back on his arms. “That's got to be tough. My mom and I moved to D.C. when my parents separated and I was in middle school. I still remember how weird it was to walk into the cafeteria and see all these people hanging out and talking to each other and realize that I didn't know a single person. There wasn't one familiar face.”
“Story of my life,” I said, breaking the twig in half.
“Have you thought about where you want to go to
“Go on,” Keith said, encouraging me.
You can do this
, I reassured myself. I would not be one of those silly squeamish girls who let their fears hold them back. And with that final thought, I leaned over the board and began to kick. After a while, I forgot about the crabs and the jellyfish. (They hadn't arrived
yet.
What did that mean? Were they on their way?) Finally, Keith took my board away and tossed it back onto the beach.
“I want you to move your hands like this.” He showed me the stroke once again. As he reached forward and then back, the muscles in his arms popped to the surface. “Got it?”
I nodded and dropped back into the water. He lifted me up, and I began to kick and move my arms. “Good,” he said. He moved his hands out from underneath me and I immediately began to sink.
“Are you okay?” he asked, lifting me back up.
“Fine,” I said, pushing the hair out of my eyes.
“Concentrate,” I heard him say.
And then a thought popped into my head. He was close enough to kiss me.
Suddenly, I was completely underwater and Keith's strong arms were pulling me to the surface.
I coughed up the water I had inhaled, but fortunately, there was no barf involved. It was gross nonetheless. The bay is pretty much grody salt water mixed with motor oil (i.e., not much better than the pee water in the pool).
“Let's take a break,” Keith said, hastily removing his hands from my waist.
As I followed him back to the shore, I couldn't help noticing that he seemed disappointed, like a teacher whose star student had just flunked.
“I'm sorry,” I said softly after he had untied us.
“Don't worry,” he said, grabbing his towel and plopping down on the sand. “You'll get it.”
He handed me my purple beach towel, and his thumb grazed mine. I tied the towel around my waist before sitting down next to him. And there we were. Two people sitting side by side. In kissing proximity.
“I saw your mom last night,” he announced out of the blue.
My eyelids started twitching. “Barbie?”
He nodded. “After I had dinner with my dad, I went to a party on the beach. There were a lot of people from the club there.”
I imagined my mom dancing in her bra and under-pants, or something else that would ruin my life forever. My eyelids twitched faster.
“It's the first time I ever talked to her,” he said. “She seems nice.”
I knew that I should have accepted this as the compliment it was intended to be and moved on. But instead I blurted out, “She's crazy.”
So much for eloquent and profound.
He raised his eyebrows. I thought I could see the hint of a smile.
“I mean, not certifiably insane but, well, she's very different from me.”
“How so?”
Wrap it up
, I cautioned myself. “She has affairs with married men.”
Yep, that ought to do it.
“Married men?” he repeated incredulously.
I picked up a stray twig and began playing with it absentmindedly. “That's why we move so often. Every time a relationship breaks up, she wants to start fresh. At least, that's how she justifies it.”
Keith kept his gaze on me. “How often have you moved?”
“Fourteen times.”
His eyes widened in surprise. “Wow, so every year you go to a different school?”
“Almost. This is the first time I can remember thatI'm actually going to be attending the same school two years in a row.”
Keith stretched his legs out and leaned back on his arms. “That's got to be tough. My mom and I moved to D.C. when my parents separated and I was in middle school. I still remember how weird it was to walk into the cafeteria and see all these people hanging out and talking to each other and realize that I didn't know a single person. There wasn't one familiar face.”
“Story of my life,” I said, breaking the twig in half.
“Have you thought about where you want to go to