CHAPTER 8

  James’ parents demanded they be present at the pool party, or as he put it, “They think a bunch of teenagers need a babysitter to keep them out of trouble.”

  It seemed more likely to me that the building management required adult supervision, but I didn’t say anything. He convinced his parents only one of them needed to go, and picked his father. I guessed his dad made for a less embarrassing babysitter than his mom.

  I’d never get the luxury of choosing which parent I found less embarrassing as chaperone. Pushing such thoughts out became second nature of the past few weeks, but the memory of Mom still lurked behind every shadow, waiting for unexpected opportunities to pounce. I swallowed bitter grief and offered to help set up the party.

  They picked me up thirty minutes before it started Monday morning, and waves of heat already rolled from the pavement, practically shining with humidity. At the recreation center, an employee taped a newly printed sign to the pool doors which read: “Private Party 10 AM to 2 PM”.

  Since a man and his teenage boy planned and organized the event, the setup consisted of a couple folding tables piled with snacks—mostly bags of chips and cookies—and a third for the catered sandwiches which wouldn’t show up until noon.

  The Gibbs also brought a few coolers full of a variety of soda cans on ice. James and his father each picked one to take inside, but when I tried to grab a third, I could barely lift it. Instead, I climbed into the back of the truck and maneuvered the two remaining coolers to the edge of the tailgate for the much stronger men to carry.

  It only took about ten minutes before we finished, and another five passed before a group of kids showed up. Terrence, a couple boys he regularly hung out with at school, Lily—a Madisonian I barely knew—and another girl I didn’t recognize, arrived first. He politely introduced the new girl as Olivia.

  Black hair in cornrows, she wore a bright yellow bikini. As short and dark-skinned as Terrance, Olivia could pass for his twin, but their similarities stopped at surface level. While Terrence had a perpetual frown, Olivia displayed a permanent grin and practically bounced with excitement.

  Hopes that the boy found another girl to take to Homecoming instead of Wynn didn’t last. Olivia avoided Terrence, focusing her efforts on attempts to chat with James, aiming that wide grin at him, clearly smitten. My friend didn’t seem to notice. Whether depressed about losing Apollo or disappointed by Lucy’s absence, he appeared preoccupied.

  Over the next fifteen minutes, a crowd accumulated. Olivia gave up trying to get James’ attention and eyed me. I pretended to not notice. She was friendly, and fairly attractive, but my heart kept a lookout for Wynn.

  “Are you from Madison?”

  “Yeah,” I said, wondering why Wynn was late.

  “Have a girlfriend?”

  “What?” I feigned having a hard time hearing her. Not difficult since the noise in the pool house rose with each newcomer. Two groups had formed, one starting a game of water polo with some beach balls we brought, and another in the shallow end having chicken fights.

  Olivia latched onto my arm and stood on tippy toes to speak right into my ear. “I said, want to chicken fight?”

  Maybe I truly misheard her, but I liked this question less. As I watched the group of boys with girls on their shoulders, fighting to knock each other off into the water, my stomach squirmed. A girl sitting on my shoulders was the last thing I wanted Wynn to see whenever she finally showed up.

  “Actually,” I said, leading her over to James, who chatted with two other bikini-clad teens, “You and James would be perfect for that!”

  She squeezed my arm and grinned wider.

  My friend’s eyes nearly exploded when he saw Olivia hanging onto me, but as I suggested he pair up with her to dominate the chicken fights, they grew even larger.

  “Uh, sure,” he said, with a shrug.

  Olivia forgot me instantly, grabbed one of his hands with both of hers and pulled him toward the pool. I was grateful for a friend loyal enough to help me dodge a bullet, and on his own birthday no less.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” I told the other two girls, though I knew I didn’t sound sorry at all.

  They were all smiles.

  “It’s fine,” one of them said, scooting closer to me. I recognized her. We’d been in some classes together in middle school. Now she followed Lucy around the high school. Nearly as tall as me, with a serious tan and dirty blonde hair cut short, the girl—Savannah?—stepped uncomfortably close. “Enjoying the party, Micah?”

  “No!” The other girl, a bit shorter, with pale skin and brown hair done in a ponytail, no less attractive than Savanna, pushed herself up against me and interrupted before I could respond. “His name isn’t Micah. It’s Hot Stuff.” The two giggled. “So, Hot Stuff, which one of us gets to ride you first?”

  “For the chicken fights, of course,” Savannah said, giving me a wink.

  My cheeks burned, and I laughed nervously. Out of the pan and into the fire. “Actually, I don’t like swimming,” I hedged.

  “You don’t need to swim to play chicken.”

  “Yeah, just hold onto me real tight.” Not giving me a chance to think of another excuse, Savannah took me by the hand, dragging me toward the pool the same way Olivia had James. She let go and jumped in.

  I paused. Unfortunately, her friend must’ve predicted I might try to back out and gave me a solid push. A split second later I hit the water. I stood to get my head back above the surface and found her laughing.

  “When Savannah falls off, I’m next!”

  I forced a laugh and nodded. Too late to back out, I decided to make the best of it. Turning, I found the blonde waiting for me.

  “You ready?” she asked, blushing through her tan.

  I took a breath and went underwater. She quickly climbed onto my shoulders, legs wrapped under my arms, feet held tight against my sides. I gripped her knees, stood up straight, and moved into the fight.

  One glance told me James and Olivia had a serious advantage. With him so tall, and her so short, physics worked in their favor. They quickly toppled two contenders already and a third girl screamed and fell into the water right in front of me. I moved Savannah to take her place as the other boy swam away.

  James laughed, and Olivia squealed when we connected. Being my first chicken fight, I had no idea what else to do but stand there. The itch came a second too late as Savannah hit the water.

  “I’ll be back!” I yelled to James over the noise of the pool house.

  “Bring it on!”

  I only intended to do one last fight, to see if that itch taught me anything useful, but when I turned and discovered a line forming behind Savannah’s friend, I groaned inside. But several boys jumped in the pool, anxious for an opportunity to have a girl ride on their shoulders.

  After my fourth chicken fight—all of which James and Olivia won—I realized I enjoyed the game. I could move a bit to help my rider keep balance. Use my grip on their legs to give them leverage. Even adjust my shoulders to some small effect. I turned back to get another rider but stopped.

  Standing on the side of the pool—far from the line of girls whistling and calling out to me—Wynn smiled at me, black ponytail hanging over her bare, freckled shoulder. My chest tightened and my breath caught. She was stunning.

  I hated being late but couldn’t make up my mind. When I got home Saturday evening and told Mom I didn’t know what to wear to James’ pool party, she promised to take me shopping the next day. We drove into Tallahassee in the morning and hit several clothing stores, then the Governor’s Square mall.

  We made a day of it, including lunch and a movie. I rarely got to enjoy spending time with Mom, and even better, she understood my predicament. I wanted a swimsuit which made me look good, without making people stare. Most of the other girls would wear bikinis, but I didn’t think the style fit my figure. Not to mention, I couldn’t imagine being comfortable wearing one. Mom picked up on the dilemma without me spelling it out.

  By the end of the day, we settled on two outfits, returning to one of the first stores we visited to buy the black boyshorts I liked. I caved and got a bikini as a backup in case I grew brave.

  On Monday morning, I continued putting off deciding which outfit to go with. I finished up some chores, showered, brushed my teeth, and flossed, but now I had to choose what I’d actually wear: the bright blue tankini with a pair of black boyshorts, or the aqua and navy-blue checkered bikini.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  I tried on the bikini first, hoping, after maximum procrastination, I might be ready to give it a try. I moved around, jumped up and down, and did some stretches. I checked myself out in the full-length mirror on the back of my closet door from every angle.

  Then I switched to the tankini and shorts and did it all over again. I switched back to the bikini. I had to admit the skimpy swimsuit fit better than expected, and I actually looked pretty cute in it, but couldn’t get over the sensation of wearing underwear. I couldn’t imagine being comfortable in public while so exposed.

  Nice to know I could pull it off, though. Still, I decided to go with the less revealing tankini and shorts combo. Maybe someday I’d wear the bikini for real. If only me and Micah went swimming.

  The party long since started by the time I finished getting ready to go. Fashionably late, I told myself. Wearing a swimsuit at the pool was one thing, wearing it around town was something else entirely, and I didn’t want to change there, so I asked Mom to drive me over. She made me drive, claiming I needed practice.

  I nearly forgot to take Terrence’s card with me. Having nowhere to stash it, I decided if he didn’t show up, I’d throw it away and tell him no after all. He’d get over it sooner or later.

  I got to the pool at the same time a few other students arrived, which made me feel better about being late. Terrence hung out in the lobby, dashing my hopes he wouldn’t show up so I could throw the card away, but at least I didn’t have to search for him. He and a couple of his friends—Brad and Alejandro if I remembered right—chatted with a trio of girls, all in bikinis. I immediately grew self-conscious about my outfit.

  As soon as Terrence saw me, he smiled. “Tylwynn! Looking good.”

  I fought a blush.

  “That top matches your eyes perfectly. Girl, you’ve got style.”

  While I didn’t appreciate his gaze wandering up and down my body, if anything positive could be said about Terrence, it was his effortless charm. Sometimes, I almost believed he meant it.

  “Thanks. Here,” I said, handing him the small envelope.

  “For me?” He seemed genuinely confused as he opened it. Pulling out the card, he stared at the single word, but it only took a second to figure it out. “Yes? Yes! Oh, girl, you had me worried! I thought for sure you were going to bail.” He showed the card to his friends. “Yes!”

  They gave him a nod of approval. The one I recognized as Brad had his arm around the waist of one of the girls, and I almost did a double take since I didn’t immediately recognize Lily without her glasses. Another lifelong Madisonian, Lily and I never became friends, but I always admired her spunk. If she and Brad doubled with me and Terrence, would that make things easier having someone I knew around, or more awkward since the touchy-feely couple rarely kept their hands off each other?

  Distracted, Terrence managed to surprise me with a hug.

  I didn’t expect that level of familiarity from him and wasn’t comfortable with it either. Especially given what little I wore. Maybe I’d made the right choice of attire after all.

  Giving him a quick squeeze, I stepped back and said, “Yeah, of course. I’m sure it’ll be fun. Have you seen Micah? Or James?” I quickly added the last.

  Terrence rolled his eyes. “Oh, yeah, your old buddy is in the pool. The ladies are having all kinds of fun with him.” His eyebrows wiggled.

  What did that mean? I faked a smile, said a quick, “Well, have fun, see you later,” and opened the doors to the pool house, a rotten knot twisting through my gut.

  It immediately became obvious what Terrence meant. Micah stood shoulder-deep in the water, and on those shoulders sat Tiffany, legs wrapped under his arms. The ginger-haired girl played chicken with another girl on James’ shoulders. Stupid Terrence, getting me all worked up over a pool game.

  Still, the knot in my gut didn’t relax. A bunch of girls stood on the edge, cheering the fighters on, while others climbed onto the shoulders of boys in the water. Aside from a girl who wore a one-piece, and two in swimsuits similar to mine, every girl wore a bikini, including Tiffany.

  With her reddish hair, slender body, and usually coy nature, Tiffany might be as attractive as a teenage girl could get. At least, whenever Lucy wasn’t around for comparison.

  But chicken revolved around strength, not beauty, and the girl riding on James’ shoulders gripped Tiffany’s wrists and twisted. If professional chicken fighting existed, she’d be scholarship material. Although shorter than me—which said something—she giggled like a maniac.

  Intrigued, I wandered closer to the pool. Tiffany fell with a splash and Micah went under as well. A huge grin beamed when he came back up and turned toward me. My heart fluttered at the sight. I missed seeing those teeth.

  Lost in his smile, it took a moment to realize he stared back at me. A fire erupted in my cheeks. The jealousy twisting in my gut completely dissolved. Knowing I didn’t compare to the beauty of half the girls here, I wanted to hide from those bright eyes but had nowhere to go. Why didn’t he swim over here and talk to me? Or at least stop staring. Never stop staring.

  A shout from the group of girls broke his trance. “Come on, Micah, it’s my turn again!” Savannah called over the noise.

  Again? How many girls had sat on those shoulders? And how many times?

  He glanced at the group, then quickly swept his hand back and snapped it into the water at a shallow angle, sending a large splash of water at the now screaming and giggling crowd. Instead of swimming toward them, he waded straight toward me.

  My heart thudded against my ribs. Though on the skinny side, his bare chest and wet hair were incredibly sexy. What would I say? Hi. I love you. You’re my everything. Never let another girl touch you again or I’ll die.

  “Hey, Wynn.”

  “Hey, Micah.”

  “Nice swimsuit.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Would you—” he paused, considering the girls relentlessly calling to him, then returned his attention to me. “Would you like to play chicken?”

  Yes. A thousand times yes. I never wanted to do anything else ever again. “I don’t think so. Doesn’t really look like my thing.”

  “Oh, come on. Not like you to back down from a challenge.” He winked.

  My knees vanished. I remained standing through sheer force of embarrassment that collapsing would cause. “I’ve never played before.”

  “I need you,” he said, reaching a hand toward me.

  My heart stopped.

  “James and Olivia are undefeated, but I know you can take her.” His fingers stretched out to me, and before I knew what I’d done, the electricity of his touch shot up my arm. He held my hand. I saw the glint in his eyes a moment too late.

  My scream turned into a gurgle as I hit the water.

  Boys! I instantly rose above the rippling surface as he lifted me up, hands gripping my waist. My face felt on fire, and my heart threatened to snap my ribs in half, but I instinctively wrapped my arms around his neck when I realized I couldn’t touch the bottom of the pool here. If it rose to his shoulders, it would cover my head!

  Laughing, he asked, “Are you alright?”

  I spewed water and laughed nervously but nodded as I clung to him.

  A girl from the side of the pool called out, “Hey, it’s my turn!”

  “Best friends of the birthday boy get to cut the line!” James hollered back, cutting off additional arguments.

  “Come on, Wynn, get on,” Micah said, then let go of me and ducked under the water.

  I eeped at the loss of my human life preserver, treading water as I quickly tried to climb onto him. This couldn’t be happening. This must be one of my fantasies. A daydream. Or actual dream. I put my legs over his shoulders. Real or imagined, this was a dream. He stood back up, and I did my best not to pull his hair as I gripped his head for balance.

  “Are you ready?”

  “No,” I whined. My legs instinctively wrapped around him, feet putting pressure against his back to keep my balance on his shoulders. Everywhere our bodies touched, lightning jolted through me. Too much! I felt faint.

  A splash sprayed me as a screaming girl hit the water nearby.

  Micah moved. “Here we go!”

  As he waded toward James, I steeled myself. No way I’d let this stranger—what did Micah call her, Olivia?—show me up in front of Micah. After a few seconds, it became clear why she remained unbeatable. The girl’s short form kept her unusually stable, yet on top of tall James’ shoulders she remained high enough to push on her enemies from a superior angle. Basic physics worked in her favor.

  But I wasn’t much taller than her, and Micah not much shorter than James, so we had nearly the same advantage. Though I’d never played before, while she won several matches already. Experience favored her, but she must be tired by now, right? Either way, I refused to lose.

  Olivia laughed and squealed as she pushed at me. Our hands connected and we struggled back and forth. Astonished by her strength, I got the feeling she toyed with me. A couple more seconds and she’d undoubtedly win. Letting go of her hands, I went after her knees, hoping she was ticklish.

  Rookie mistake. I opened myself up, and she got a particularly good push on my shoulder. I reared back and almost fell off Micah, but he gripped my knees tighter and rolled his shoulders forward, helping me regain balance.

  Unfortunately, this had the added effect of reminding me who my legs were wrapped around, and the distraction nearly did me in. I rolled with another shove but knew I couldn’t survive the next. But nearly falling backward gave me an idea. Time for desperate tactics.

  I faked going for her knees again, opening up my shoulder, and the other girl took the bait, leaning into me. I switched targets to grab her wrists and rolled with the momentum of her push, pulling her with me as I unhooked my feet and propelled myself backward. She screamed as James was forced to lean forward and release her.

  We tumbled into the water together and the crowd exploded in cheers and whistles.

  James called out he needed a break and the four of us climbed laughing out of the pool together.

  “Nice one, Tylwynn,” James congratulated.

  “I couldn’t do anything!” Olivia giggled. “You pulled me right off of him!”

  “Well, it isn’t like I won. I just didn’t want to lose!”

  “That’s our Wynn,” Micah said, poking me in the side. I flinched away but wanted more than anything to reach out and cling to his bare chest forever. Wrap myself around him again, and—Breathe. Breathe. Calm. It was just a game.

  We walked over to the drinks together, and James introduced me to Olivia.

  “Are you from Madison?” I asked, certain I’d never seen her before.

  “No, Live Oak. I’m here with Terrence.”

  “Oh?”

  “Well, not by choice. He’s my cous—”

  “Speaking of...” Micah interrupted her with a mumble as the dark boy approached with a frown more sour than usual.

  “Come on, Vee, we’re leaving.”

  Olivia returned an equally dour pout. “Why? It’s only been an hour.”

  Terrence glanced around the group, mouth twisting into a phony grin. “Sorry, give us a second.” He took Olivia by the arm and pulled her away from our circle. She immediately shook his hand off but followed anyway.

  It must’ve been because of the noise of the pool room, but even though he clearly tried to keep their conversation private, Terrence spoke loud enough for us to hear. “She isn’t here. We’re leaving.”

  “I’m not ready to go. I’m making friends, Terry.”

  “Yeah, right. Well, stay and make friends, but you’re walking home.”

  “Ugh! Fine. Just give me a second.” She turned away from him with a scowl. When she returned to the circle, she didn’t try to hide her annoyance. “Sorry, I have to go.”

  “Hey,” James interrupted, “if you need a ride, I can take you home after the party.”

  Her face lit up like a child at Christmas, but the enthusiasm faded quickly. “Well, thanks, but I better not. Terry’s a brat, but my dad wouldn’t appreciate me bringing some random guy home. No offense.”

  James shrugged.

  “Anyway, thanks for the party, hope to see you all again someday.”

  We said goodbye. After she left, Micah asked, “What was that about?”

  “Lucy, probably,” I said.

  James grunted in agreement, and Micah nodded.

  What a little creep. Terrence only came to ogle Lucy, and when he learned she wouldn’t be here, he bailed. The boy must’ve asked me out to try and make Lucy jealous. What a little monster.

  The notion collided with the realization I accepted Terrence’s invitation to Homecoming for the same reason, which soured my good mood. If I considered Terrence a monster for doing that, was I any better?

  I could fix it all right now. Micah and James chatted and laughed about the chicken fights. I could reach out, grab his gorgeous face, and kiss him. Wrap my arms around him and tell him I didn’t want to go to Homecoming with stupid Terrence, I wanted to go with him, Micah Sepich, to every dance for the rest of my life.

  What then? Would he smile, or frown? “I’m sorry, Wynn, I don’t like you that way. We’re friends. I love you like a sister.” For some reason, those were the only words I could imagine him saying, and my heart ripped just hearing them in my head.

  I could admit my feelings for him, but I could never survive such complete rejection. I’d only have to be a monster for a little while. Just for one dance. To find out if I was an idiot for hoping he liked me, or an idiot for using Terrence to find out he did.