I only skinny-dip if it’s pitch-dark out; I’m way too self-conscious otherwise. “Um,no,” I said, looking at him if he just asked me the dumbest question ever. “But is your Jet Ski here?”
“Yeah, but I wasn’t gonna take it out tonight—”
I flicked my eyes up to his, batted my lashes. “If you let me drive it, I’ll give you a hand job in the thicket.”
The thicket is a little forest between Miller’s Swimming Hole and the Boat House. It’s where teens stash their liquor, weed. It’s where the ones who go all the way do it.
I had a plan.
The swimming hole is really part of the Blanca River, the part where’s there’s a slight bend, forming a pool. Part of it feeds into the lake where the Boat House is. It’s a private lake with these fancy houses. When I was little, I used to wanna live on it, but Mom told me our grotesquely big house is too big for the lots out there.
Five minutes later, Dustin and I were mounting his Jet Ski, me up front, hands on the throttle. The sun was just starting to set behind the tree line, so the lake still glittered. I eased away from the dock slowly, not wanting to cause a scene.
But when we rounded the bend and reached the river, I squeezed the throttle, picked up a little speed.
Even though they were still about a hundred feet away, I could see them, their heads bobbing, wet hair stringy and glued to their scalps. They were clutching red Solo cups, hoisting them above the water.
Blair swam to the shore and climbed out topless, with onlyher bikini bottom on. I couldn’t hear her over the noise of the motor, but I could tell she was laughing. Her perky boobs bouncing, her head tossed back. Her body is sick. I mean,perfect. Skinny but with just the right amount of curvy, and she knows it. Tommy and the rest of the boys who were treading water were cheering her on.
She grabbed the rickety ladder, then climbed to the top of the old boathouse to dive.
It’s like this unspoken rule that whenever we’re all out here, Blair dives first. How fucking stupid is that? That she even gets dibs on diving? It’s bullshit.
She stood on the roof, hands over her head, showing off her crazy body even more. Then she dove.
When she broke the surface, I could see everyone clapping for her.
I killed the gas, letting the Jet Ski rock against the wake.
“What are you doing?” Dustin asked.
“Don’t worry about it.”
Jane was next.
Her skinny ass climbed out of the water and started moving up the ladder. Very slowly because her leg was still a bit wrecked from the horse accident, but she didn’t let that stop her. Lean but curvy, her homemade bathing suit bottom riding up her crack. Tits out, like Blair.
Dustin whistled through his teeth in approval. I gave him a sharp elbow.
“Heeeey! Ouch!” he whined.
“You watch your ass.”
After she plunged into the river—more of a thunk, a cannonball, and not the graceful dive of Blair, who is captain of the diving team—her head popped out of the water, grinning that toothy grin of hers. Everyone cheered as Blair passed her a fresh Solo cup.
Anger shredded through me. I was furious, so I squeezed the throttle, accelerating so fast, the thing jerked and almost threw Dustin off. The motor buzzed in my ear like a bumblebee, but so loud that it made them all look up, glance our way.
I kept roaring toward them. At first, everyone was smiling, laughing at us, almost sneering, but as we got closer, I sped up even more, aiming at them.
Their faces turned scared; that’s when glee overtook me.
“What are youdoing?” Dustin asked, horrified.
I didn’twantto run them over. Well, if I’m being honest, for a few seconds, Idid.
There wasn’t time for them to swim away, so they started shouting at me to slow down, to move.
At the last possible second, I cut a sharp left, spraying water over the group, soaking their precious drinks, filling them with river water. Then I steered away from them.
