Something Borrowed by Emily Giffin Page A

away.
    In truth, though, Dex has been somewhat subdued. I wonder if I
    have anything to do with his mood. Maybe it bothered him,
    watching me with Marcus. Not full-blown jealousy, just the
    territorial pangs that I experienced. Or perhaps he's only thinking
    about Darcy, seeing her for the controlling person she is. I've
    always been aware of Darcy's demands you can't miss them but
    lately, I have been less tolerant of her. I am tired of her always
    getting her way. Maybe Dex feels the same.
    "What are we doing for breakfast?" Marcus asks through a loud
    yawn.
    Claire glances at her diamond-studded Cartier. "You mean
    brunch."
    "Whatever. For food," Marcus says.
    We discuss our options and decide to skip the crowded East
    Hampton scene. Hillary says that she bought the essentials the
    day before.
    "By essentials, do you mean Pop-Tarts?" Marcus asks.
    "Here." Hillary sets bowls, spoons, and a box of Rice Krispies on
    the table. "Enjoy."
    Marcus opens the box and pours some into his bowl.
    He looks
    across the table at me. "Want some?"
    I nod, and he prepares my bowl. He doesn't ask anyone else if they
    want cereal, just pushes the box down the table.
    "Banana?" he asks me.
    "Yes, please."
    He peels the banana and slices it into his bowl and mine,
    alternating every few slices. He takes the bruised section for
    himself. We are sharing a banana. This means something. Dex's
    eyes dart my way as Marcus flicks the last neat cylinder into my
    bowl, leaving the nasty end piece in its peel where it belongs.
    Several hours later, we are finally ready to go to the beach. Claire
    and Darcy emerge from their rooms with their stylish canvas bags
    filled to the brim with plush new beach towels, magazines, lotions,
    thermoses, cell phones, and makeup. Hillary carries only a small
    bath towel from the house and a Frisbee. I am somewhere in
    between with a beach towel, my Discman, and a bottle of water.
    The six of us walk in a row, our flip-flops smacking the pavement
    with that satisfying sound of summer. Claire and Hillary walk on
    either end, flanking the house couple and the possible couple-tobe.
    We cross the beach parking lot and climb over the dune,
    hesitating for a second to take in our first collective glimpse of the
    ocean. I am glad that I no longer live in landlocked Indiana, where
    people call Lake Michigan "the beach." The view is thrilling. It
    almost makes me forget that I slept with Dex.
    Dex leads the way down the crowded beach, finding us a spot
    halfway between the dunes and the ocean where the sand is still
    soft but even enough to spread our towels. Marcus puts his towel
    next to mine; Darcy is on my other side, Dex next to her. Hillary
    and Claire set up in front of us. The sun is bright but not too hot.
    Claire warns us all about the UV rays, that these are the days
    when you really have to be careful. "You can get severe sun
    damage and not even realize it until it's too late," she says.
    Marcus offers to put suntan lotion on my back.
    "No, thanks," I say. But as I struggle to reach the middle of my
    back, he takes the bottle from me and applies the lotion,
    meticulously maneuvering around the edges of my suit.
    "Do mine, Dex," Darcy says cheerfully, shedding her white shorts
    and squatting in front of Dex in her black bikini. "Here.
    Use the
    coconut oil, please."
    Claire bemoans the lack of SPF in the oil, says we are too old to
    keep tanning and that Darcy will be sorry when the wrinkles set
    in. Darcy rolls her eyes and says she doesn't care about wrinkles,
    she lives in the moment. I know I will get an earful later, that
    Darcy will tell me that Claire is just jealous because her fair skin
    goes straight from white to bright pink. "You'll regret it when
    you're forty," Claire says, her face shaded by a huge straw hat.
    "No I won't. I'll just get laser resurfacing." Darcy adjusts her bikini
    top and then coats more oil on her calves, using quick, efficient
    strokes.
    I have watched her grease up for more than