I rolled my eyes. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. And that’s my bed you’re sitting on.”
The two of us changed into our suits right away—Taylor into her tiny yellow bikini and me into my black tankini with the support bra and the really high neckline. As we changed, she looked me over and said, “Belly, your boobs have really gotten big!”
I threw my T-shirt over my head and said, “Not really.”
But it was true, they had. Overnight, almost. I didn’thave them the summer before, that was for sure. I hated them. They slowed me down: I couldn’t run fast anymore—it was too embarrassing. It was why I wore baggy T-shirts and one-pieces. I couldn’t stand to hear what the boys would say about it. They would tease me for sure, and Steven would tell me to go put some clothes on, which would make me want to die.
“What size are you now?” she asked accusingly.
“B,” I lied. It was more like a C.
Taylor looked relieved. “Oh, well we’re still the same, then, because I’m practically a B. Why don’t you wear one of my bikinis? You look like you’re trying out for the swim team in that one-piece.” She lifted up a blue-and-white striped one with red bows on the sides.
“Iamon the swim team,” I reminded her. I’d done winter swim with my neighborhood swim team. I couldn’t compete in summer because I was always at Cousins. Being on the swim team made me feel connected to my summer life, like it was just a matter of time before I was at the beach again.
“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Taylor said. She dangled the bikini from side to side. “This would besocute on you, with your brown hair and your new boobs.”
I made a face and pushed the bikini away.
Part of me did want to show off and wow them with how much I had grown, how I was a real girl now, but the other more sane part knew it would be a death wish.Steven would throw a towel over my head, and I would feel ten years old again instead of thirteen.
“But why?”
“I like to do laps in the pool,” I said. Which was true. I did.
She shrugged. “Okay, but don’t blame me when the guys don’t talk to you.”
I shrugged right back at her. “I don’t care if they talk to me or not, I don’t think of them that way.”
“Yeah, right! You’ve been, like, obsessed with Conrad for as long as I’ve known you! You wouldn’t even talk to any of the guys at school last year.”
“Taylor, that was a really long time ago. They’re like brothers to me, just like Steven,” I said, pulling on a pair of gym shorts. “Talk to them all you want.”
The truth was, I liked both of them in different ways and I didn’t want her to know, because whichever guy she picked would feel like a leftover. And it wasn’t like it would sway Taylor. She was going for Conrad either way. I wanted to tell her,Anyone but Conrad, but it wouldn’t be true, not completely. I would be jealous if she picked Jeremiah, too, because he wasmyfriend, not hers.
It took Taylor forever to pick out a pair of sunglasses that matched her bikini (she’d brought four pairs), plus two magazines and her suntan oil. By the time we got outside, the boys were already in the pool.
I threw my clothes off right away, ready to jump in,but Taylor hesitated, her Polo towel tight around her shoulders. I could tell she was suddenly nervous about her itsy-bitsy bikini, and I was glad. I was getting a little bit sick of her showing off.
The boys didn’t even look over. I had been worried that with Taylor there they might not want to do all the usual stuff, that they might act differently. But there they were, dunking one another for all it was worth.
Kicking off my flip-flops, I said, “Let’s get in the pool.”
“I might lay out for a little bit first,” Taylor said. She finally dropped her towel and spread it out on a lounge chair. “Don’t you want to lay out too?”
“No. It’s hot and I want to swim. Besides, I’m already tan.” And I was. I was turning the color of dark toffee. I looked like a whole different person in the summer, which might have been the best part of it.
Taylor on the other hand was pasty and bright like biscuit dough. I had a feeling she’d catch up with me fast, though. She was good at that.
I took off my glasses and set them on top of my clothes. Then I walked over to the deep end and jumped right in. The water felt like a shock to the system, in the best way possible. When I came up for air, I treaded water over to the boys. “Let’s play Marco Polo,” I said.
Steven, who was busy trying to dunk Conrad, stopped and said, “Marco Polo’s boring.”
“Let’s play chicken,” Jeremiah suggested.
“What’s that?” I said.
“It’s when two teams of people climb up on each other’s shoulders and you try to push the other person down,” my brother explained.
