“Okay then,” I said, returning the smile. “Can we start from there?” Would he be all right with this? Something about Hamlet destabilized my usual assurance, which was built on my willingness to walk away. That willingness gave you power. With Hamlet, I wasn’t sure if I could walk away.
And to my relief, he said, “Sure.” Then he pulled me in quickly and kissed me on the tip of my nose. “Sorry, I’ve been distracted by your cute nose the entire car ride.”
Oof. My heart fluttered as we walked up to Rose’s front door.
She answered the door before we even knocked, wearing a long, gauzy, floral-pattern dress over a bathing suit. “Took you guys long enough to make it up the driveway.”
Hamlet’s telltale flush crept up his neck again, and I reached out for his hand instinctively. Rose glanced down at our clasped hands and smiled. “Well, well,well!”
I slipped past her, pulling Hamlet in behind me. “Calm down.”
She closed the door. “I am calm. I’m so calm that I’m a clam.”
Hamlet laughed, and I looked at him. “Are you going to encourage that kind of joke?”
“It’s funny,” he insisted.
I pointed at Rose and said, “Don’t get excited. He thinks everything I say is funny.”
We stood in her living room, which was bright and sunny—big windows; white walls; and soft, neutral-colored furniture set against gleaming hardwood floors. There was art everywhere, from oversize paintings with abstract shapes and bright color to little watercolors in delicate gold frames.
“Wow, your house looks like Pinterest,” said Hamlet.
Rose laughed as she handed us towels. “Thanks, I think? That’ll make my mom happy.”
She led us out of the living room into the kitchen, which had a big open floor plan and more windows. You could see the pool from in here, sparkling and surrounded by colorful chairs and lush native landscaping. “My dad works from home nowadays,so he’s upstairs. FYI, in case you guys were planning on doing it in the pool.”
“Are you ten years old?” I screeched while Hamlet chuckled nervously. The words “doing it” being said with both of us so fresh in our dating made me feel queasy. I glanced at Hamlet to make sure he hadn’t fainted. He was just the color of a tomato, was all.
My usual pool time consisted of dozing off and reading gossip rags, but with Rose and Hamlet, they wanted to beinthe pool. Playing games.
“Marco Polo? Are you serious?” I asked as I stood in the shallow end, on my tippy-toes to prevent the water from touching my torso.
“Yes! And also, it’s ninety degrees out, are you actuallycold?” Rose asked, treading water in the deep end.
“This water isfreezing!” I protested.
Hamlet swam over (shirtless Hamlet was always… well… justwell) and stood up so that he was directly in front of me. Water poured off his shoulders, and I was so distracted that I didn’t even pay attention when he said, “Sorry about this.” A second later, he had hoisted me under the arms and dragged me out into the deeper part of the pool so that my body was now completely submerged.
I screeched, like a total wuss. But after three seconds, the water was warm and I stopped flailing.
“You are such a baby,” Rose scoffed before dipping under the water to do a little backflip, as if to highlight the difference between us.
Hamlet kept one hand supporting my back. My bare back. “You good?” he asked.
I nodded. “Yeah.” Then I touched his hip underwater, grazing it gently with my fingers. His eyes met mine, and this time his smile was slow.
“EH-HEM!” Rose splashed us.
We played Marco Polo with Hamlet as the seeker first. I hadn’t played since I was a kid, and it was hard to get into at the start. I tried to escape out of the pool a few times, but Rose dragged me back in. She was about one thousand times stronger than me in every way. But when Hamlet, as Marco, found me and grasped my shoulder, I screamed and felt that very real competitive thrill. After that, it wasgame on.
By the time our third round was finished, we were starving so we padded into Rose’s kitchen, dripping water on the tile floor. Rose pulled out cans of sparkling water, fruit, and cheese. “Admit it, you had fun, Clara.”
I grabbed an apple and bit into it. “It wasn’t the worst.”
Hamlet immediately went into helpful mode, pulling out a cutting board and knife to start slicing apples and pears. This pleased me. One of my pet peeves was people standing around asking, “Can I help?” when they were secretly hoping they could just watch TV in the other room. Like those bums Felix and Patrick.
Rose and Hamlet, on the other hand, were a flurry of activity. I joined them, grabbing some glasses and ice for the drinks.
