She made a face at me. “It’s not exactly a felony. And besides, Blake owes us.”
“Really? Why?” I asked, but she didn’t hear me, or chose not to answer, instead diving under again to join Jamie, who was circling along the bottom.
As they emerged a moment later, laughing and splashing each other, I kicked off my shoes, then rolled up my sweatpants and dunked my feet in the water. It was warm, even more so than the air, and I leaned back on my palms, turning my face up to the sky. I hadn’t been swimming since the last time we’d lived in a complex with a pool, around ninth grade. In the summer, I would spend hours there, staying in until my mom had to come get me when dark was falling.
Jamie and Cora stayed in for about a half hour, dunking each other and playing Marco Polo. By the time they climbed out, it was past ten, and even Roscoe—who’d been barking nonstop—was exhausted. “See,” Jamie said as they toweled off, “one dip, no harm done.”
“It is nice,” I agreed, moving my feet through the water.
“You coming back with us?” Cora asked as they walked behind me, heading for the fence.
“In a minute. I think I’ll hang out a little while longer.”
“Might as well make the most of it,” Jamie said as Roscoe trotted behind him. “After all, it won’t be like this forever.”
Then they were gone, through the fence, where I could hear their voices fading as they crossed the yard. I waited until it had been quiet for a few minutes before slipping off my sweatpants. Then, with one last quick look around me to make sure I was alone, I jumped in.
It was startling, at first, being back in a pool after so long not swimming. Just as quickly, though, all the instinct came back, and before I knew it I was moving steadily to the other side, the water filling my ears. I don’t know how many laps I’d done, back and forth, only that I had hit such a rhythm that at first, I didn’t even notice when a light clicked on in the house. By the time the second one came on, it was too late.
I froze, sinking down below the pool’s edge, as a figure moved through the now-bright living room. After it crossed back once, then again, I heard a door slide open. Shit, I thought, then panicked, taking a deep breath and submerging myself.
Which, as it turned out, was not the smartest move, as became apparent when I looked up through the shifting blue water above to see Nate staring down at me. By that time, my lungs were about to explode, so I had no choice but to show myself.
“Well, well,” he said as I sputtered to the surface. “What’s this all about?”
I swam to the edge, just to do something, then ran a hand over my face. “Um,” I said. “Actually—”
“Cora and Jamie were pool jumping, huh?” he said. I just looked at him, confused, until he pulled one flipper, then another, from behind his back. “They’re not exactly slick about it,” he said, dropping them on the deck beside his feet. “These were right there on that chair. Last time they left a swimming noodle.”
“Oh,” I said. “Yeah. I guess we’re busted.”
“No big deal.” He crouched down by me, dipping his hand in the water. “It’s good someone’s getting some use out of this thing. My dad’s always complaining about how much it costs to heat it.”
“You don’t swim at all anymore?”
“Not really,” he said.
“You must miss it, though.”
He shrugged. “Sometimes. It was a good escape. Until, you know, it wasn’t.”
I thought of what he’d said, about his dad getting banned but still yelling from the fence. “You should come in,” I said. “It’s really warm.”
“Nah, I’m okay.” He sat on a nearby chair. “You go ahead, though.”
I bobbed there for a second, neither of us talking. Finally I said, “So I thought you were out of town on a business thing.”
“Change of plans,” he said. “It was decided I should come home early.”
“Decided,” I repeated.
He looked up, then gave me a tired smile. “It’s been a long day, let’s just say that.”
I’ll bet, I thought. Out loud, I said, “All the more reason to take a dip. I mean, it’s December. Seventy-five degrees. You know you want to.”
I honestly didn’t think he’d agree with this; I was just talking. But then he nodded slowly, and pushed himself to his feet. “All right,” he said. “I’ll be back in a sec.”
As he disappeared inside, it occurred to me that maybe this was not the smartest idea. After all, I was trying to keep my distance and now, with this invitation, had narrowed the space we were in considerably. Before I could figure out how to change this, though—or even if I wanted to—he was coming back outside, now in trunks, and walking across the patio. Needless to say, this was distracting. That first night, I hadn’t really seen him shirtless, and now I could focus on little else. All the more reason, I realized, to backtrack, but before I could he was stretching his arms overhead and diving in, hitting the water with barely a splash and disappearing below.
You swim, I thought, having a flash of that sweatshirt as he came to the surface, then closer toward me with a breast-stroke that looked effortless. When he emerged, shaking his head and sending droplets flying, I said, “Nice form.”
“Thanks,” he said, bobbing in front of me. “Years of training.”