When I caught another glimpse of her, I saw that Sarah was still spreading lotion over her naked limbs, and the next thing I knew, Critter had this enormous hard-on. It startled me so much that I immediately let go of him and turned to swim away. In my haste I smacked into the water, snorting more chlorine through my nose.
As I dragged my body up the concrete steps, all I could think was What the hell? Critter and I wrestled all the time and not once had his boy parts tried to get freaky-friendly with my girl ones. Then a voice said, This is Critter we’re talking about. The walking hormone. The boy who once professed to getting a boner while watching Martha Stewart oil an antique coatrack. He was probably all juiced from watching the princess grease herself up. I did my best to shrug off the weirdness, grabbed my towel, and began to dry off.
Critter swam to the ledge by me and said, “What’s the matter? You okay?”
“I’m tired,” I lied. “I need a break.”
He nodded like he had expected me to say something to that effect. Then he dove under and swam to Sarah’s side of the pool.
I spread my ratty Mr. Bubble beach towel over the length of a vinyl chaise and lay on it at a 170-degree angle—low enough to be comfortable, but high enough that I could keep an eye on Critter. My tummy bulged out a bit, so I grabbed my T-shirt and arranged it over the mound and the tops of my marshmallow thighs. I couldn’t hear what Critter and Sarah were talking about, but whatever he was saying was making her laugh and toss her hair. I tried to focus on the possibility of season pool passes to get my mind off the other stuff—Sarah and her French-manicured toenails, Critter and his unexpected hard-on, Jesse and his goddamned morals. If he had come with us, Critter would’ve behaved himself better. Jess had that kind of effect on people.
The moisture on my skin shrunk into tiny tight beads before evaporating altogether. I closed my eyes, felt the fireball sun roasting my lids. The sound of my breathing mixed with the hum of the pool filter, and before I knew it, I was out cold.
critter
Hot Legs
The girl was fine. She was finer than fine—she was slamming, banging, busting, hott with-two-t’s supafine. I wasn’t sure which I liked more, the long honey hair or the long honey legs. Everything about her made me think of beach sand in the late afternoon, and man, I wanted to sink right in.
“So you got a boyfriend.” A statement, not a question, since she’d already mentioned him four times in the brief hour we’d known each other.
Sarah nodded. “Duncan Mackenzie? He goes to Haley—maybe you know him?”
I wanted to laugh. Sure, I knew Duncan. Knew of him, at least. He was one of those guys who walked the halls like they were gods—like everyone else on the planet existed solely to make them look good, even their fellow jock boys, who always walked half a step behind. In school I tried to steer clear of guys like that, Abercrombie wannabes who used “partay” as a verb and spent their weekends drinking themselves stupid.
“I’ve seen him around,” I said. “Been together long?”
“With Duncan?” A wrinkle formed between her eyes as she ticked the time off on her fingertips. “It’s about eight months now.”
“Whoa,” I said. “That is long.”
She shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”
There were a bunch of thoughts bouncing around in my head. Like the idea that she and Duncan the Great were probably doing it, because no way would a guy like him wait more than three months for a piece of action. Even so, I noticed that despite frequent references to a boyfriend, when she actually said his name it was without emotion. Like he was just some guy, and not her guy. Then there was the fact that she’d had to count up the months they’d been together, instead of knowing off the top of her head. Officially she might be “taken,” but unofficially I still had a chance.
“So where is Boyfriend now?” I asked, squinting into the sun.
“Gone,” she said.
My head snapped back down. “Gone?”
“Soccer camp,” she explained. “He’s in North Carolina until mid-August.”
“That’s, like, the whole summer.”
“Tell me about it.”
So that was the source of tension. Boyfriend chooses ball over babe. Of course she was pissed. I wondered if Dunky knew that his dumb-ass decision would leave the door wide open for some other dude to sneak in and snatch his honey. It was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up.
“That sucks,” I said. “Isn’t summer all about taking your girl down to Rehoboth? Playing mini-golf? Buying her frozen custard, kissing her while her mouth’s still cold?”
She shivered. At least, I think she did. Hard to tell, because almost immediately after, she popped up from her chair, told me she needed to check the pool’s pH levels, and scampered off.
I was so in.
No Holding Back
When Sarah returned, she slowly untied the flowery scarf thing from around her waist and draped it over the back of her chair. More leg, every inch perfectly smooth, perfectly golden. As she rubbed the thick, creamy Coppertone into her now exposed thigh, she said, “What about you? You have a girlfriend?” She said it in a practiced-casual sort of way. I took this as a sign.
“Not really,” I said. “There’s a girl I see, but I wouldn’t call her my girlfriend.” I wasn’t sure if I could call what Shelli and I did “seeing” each other, but the part about her not being my girlfriend was certainly true. Far as I knew, no one had ever claimed Shelli—at least not publicly.
“So you’re one of those guys,” Sarah said, a half smile playing on her cherry lips.
I closed my eyes and shook my head. No way was I letting this kitten think I was some kind of player. “It’s not what you think. I just don’t believe in being someone’s boyfriend unless I’m, you know, devoted to them.” My eyes stayed focused on her mouth. “It’s hard finding a girl worthy of such devotion.”
There it was again. The shiver. Only this time it was more like a little squirm. She was making me so hot. Too hot. I was hoping another dip in the pool might cure that problem, even though it hadn’t the first time around. The little guy had a mind of his own. I told Sarah I needed to cool off.
“No doubt,” she said. “I’m feeling kind of hot myself.”
I grinned as I cannonballed back into the deep end. This girl was prime for the picking. I did a victory lap and splashed around for a bit, but swimming alone was mostly boring. “You should come in!” I called out to Sarah, since Sea was still snoozing. “The water feels fantastic.”
“I’m sure,” she said. “But it’s kind of against the rules.”
“Can you sit on the edge at least?”
She looked around like someone was monitoring her every move. Then she stepped out of her flip-flops and said, “Maybe for a bit.”
I propped my elbows on the hot concrete not six inches from where she sat. Those legs were dangerously close to my body, and I had to fight the impulse to grab them and pull her in. I couldn’t stop thinking about what it would feel like to have her sleek, wet bathing suit pressed against my naked chest, and—
“Critter?”
“Huh?”
“I was saying, your sister seems nice.”
“Yeah, Sea’s pretty cool. What about you? Any siblings?”
“One,” she said. “Younger brother.”
“Me too. Jesse’s fifteen, same as Sea.”
Sarah cocked her head. “Are they twins?”
“Nah, Seattle’s not our real sister. Her dad and my mom got together when we were little kids, though, so she may as well be.”
“So now you’re one big happy blended family?”
I laughed. “Not exactly. Frank—that’s Sea’s dad— he’s been out of the picture a long time now. Sea’s mom died giving birth—this freaky blood clot thing in her brain—so really Layla, my mom, is the only mom she’s ever known.”
“I don’t understand,” Sarah said. “Her dad and your mom got divorced—and the stepmother got custody?
”
“More like they never got married to begin with and old Frankie didn’t exactly invite Sea along when he ran off.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
Whatever sexiness building between us suddenly evaporated in the stink of my family laundry. I didn’t know why I’d spilled it all out to her, especially since none of us—Layla included—ever bothered to clarify Seattle’s relationship to the family. She was always Layla’s daughter and our sister, end of story.
I decided to shift gears. “What about you? What’s your situation like?”
“Boring. Just me and my brother, parents married twenty years, blah blah blah.” She looked at her feet, but I could see that her pink cheeks got pinker, like she was embarrassed.
To rescue the conversation, I hoisted myself out of the water and onto the ledge next to her, shaking my shaggy hair and spraying water all over her shoulders.
“Quit it,” she said, laughing.
“Only if you say please.”
“Please!”
The sun was starting to hang lower and I knew that Sea and I should be heading home soon. I got to my feet and offered Sarah my hand. She took it, looking up at me with her big blue eyes. I was a little too eager helping her up and she tripped into me, the front of her suit grazing my chest for a fraction of a second. She giggled as my blood pulsed in places I wished it wouldn’t.
She put her hand behind her neck and pulled all of her hair onto one shoulder. Her lips were shining. They smelled like strawberries, and I was dying for a taste. I wondered what she’d do if I tried to kiss her.
Then a stray cloud sailed in from nowhere, covering the sun, and the moment was lost. Sarah returned to her chair and I watched the space where she’d been, like I could actually see some of her strawberry essence lingering behind.
Sweet Jesus, I thought, swallowing hard. This girl could break my heart into a million pieces.
seattle
Fo’ Sizzle
When I came to, the sun was starting to set. I guessed it was maybe four or five. I blinked a few times, trying to remember where I was, not sure why I had a stinging sensation every time I opened and closed my eyes. The pool glistened in front of me, and on the other side of the water lay my faux brother, stretched out on his own vinyl chaise, back facing the sky and head tucked on his hands. I thought he was still talking to Sarah, but his eyes were closed. I hoped conversation was involved, because otherwise, she was just sitting there watching him sleep, and that was way too creepy.
I tried to sit up but was nearly blinded by pain. I looked down at my formerly eyeball white skin—skin that had, during my impromptu nap, turned the bright red of a cooked lobster’s shell. Everything hurt. Everything. I moved the T-shirt that had been covering my paunch and discovered, to my great horror, that I now had a strange tan line mid-thigh. The tops looked like a cheerleading skirt made of paste-colored cellulite. It looked particularly sickly when paired against the scarlet that covered the rest of my bod.
I stood up, wrapping my towel around my waist like a low-rent version of Sarah’s flowered sarong, and made my way toward Critter in mincing steps. When I got to him, I lifted my foot and jabbed it into his knee pit. “Why’d you let me sleep like that? I’m all burned up.”
Critter rolled over lazily, took one look at me, and started to laugh. “Dude, you’re a cherry tomato!”
“I know,” I snapped. “Didn’t you see me frying out there? Or were you too busy making nice with our new friend to notice?” I said that last sentence in a lower tone, but still loudly enough that Miss Sarah could hear me.
“Chill, mama,” Critter said. “You’re just cranky because you didn’t have your lunch. Go raise that blood sugar level and morph back into the sweetie girl I know and love.”
“Piss off. I’m going home.”
I strode back to the other side of the pool, where all my stuff was. I couldn’t believe that Critter would talk like that to me, especially in front of her.
Gently, I pulled my T-shirt over my head and stepped into my khaki pants. Every time the cloth brushed against my skin, I ached. I had no idea how I was going to make the long trek back to the bus stop, let alone make all those transfers and haul ass back up the hill to our house.
“Um, Seattle?” It was Sarah, looking timid. “The pool closes in five minutes. . . . If you guys don’t mind sticking around while I finish up, I can give you a ride home.”
“Nah—wouldn’t want to put you out or anything.”
“I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want to do it.”
“We’d love to catch a ride with you,” Critter said, sidling up to us. “Right, Sea?”
“Whatever.”
She drove—what else?—a beige BMW. It was a slightly older model, but in pristine condition nonetheless. A crystal heart hung from the rearview mirror. Gag. I sighed heavily, sank deep into the butter leather seats, and sulked all the way home.
My Sunburn Hates You
I was sprawled on the sofa, clad only in a pair of old-man boxers and a loose-fitting undershirt, when Jesse came home from the Sip-n-Stop. He’d pulled another ten-hour shift, and he was tired. Not too tired, though, to quip, “Shit, Sea—did your sunscreen, like, have a negative SPF?”
“Not funny,” I moaned.
Critter came back from the kitchen bearing a Super Slushee cup of ice water. He sat on the edge of the couch and bent the big plastic fun straw so that I could sip the frosty goodness from a reclining position. Even my lips had burned to a blister, and little bits of whitish skin were starting to crack and flake.
“So I take it your little con worked?” Jess said, ripping off his Sip-n-Stop vest and basket-tossing it into a heap of dirty laundry in the middle of the room. “How was it?”
“Fine, until Miss Thang here decided to Kentucky fry her pale self.”
I mustered up enough energy to punch Critter on his left shoulder blade. “Your fault,” I muttered.
Multiple lines of sweat were dripping down Jesse’s flushed face. “Goddamn, it’s hot in here!” he said. He unbuttoned his white shirt and collapsed into the green velvet easy chair that lay perpendicular to my couch. Then he had the nerve to co-opt my small oscillating fan—the only source of cool air I had on my skin, which had become so hot to the touch I felt like I was going to spontaneously combust.
“Hey,” I protested weakly. “I’m hurt, remember?”
“Did either one of you brainiacs think to call Mom?” Jesse said. “Hospital must have some magic potion that’d take the sting out.”
Critter and I exchanged looks, because neither of us had called Nurse Layla. “I’m on it,” Critter said, springing into action.
Jesse relinquished the fan and hopped upstairs for a quick shower. I closed my eyes, trying to remember what it was like to move my arm without sending searing pain up the length of it.
Critter thrust the phone in my face. “She wants to talk to you.”
“Hey, sugar bear,” Layla cooed through the phone. “Where’s it hurt?”
“All over.”
“You hot or cold?”
“Hot,” I said. “Very hot.”
“So no fever yet, that’s good. Okay, Missy. Tell the boys to get you three aspirin, and flush them down with a whole lot of liquids. Water, not soda. I’ll bring you some ointment on my dinner break, okay? Around seven or so. Until then, see if you can sleep it off.”
“Will do,” I murmured. “Love you.”
“Love you too, hon.”
Critter stood over me, looking a little anxious. “What’d she say?”
“Aspirin. Three. Why do you have that look on your face?”
“Mom sounded worried,” he said. “You okay?”
I nodded. “I’ll live.”
He leaned down and placed a light kiss on the top of my head, but even my scalp was all burned up.
“Ow,” I said.
“Oops, sorry. Let me get your meds.”
I tried to sleep bu
t couldn’t, and by the time Layla bustled in, my inner heat had indeed turned to chills. She tossed me a thin box of ointment samples and commanded Jess to bring her a thermometer. I had a fever of about 102, and this made Layla frown. “I have to get back,” she said. “But you boys keep an eye on her. I want hourly updates on her temp. If it hits one oh four, bring her in. And make sure she eats something, okay?” To me, she said, “Hold on there, sweetness. It’ll be a rough night.”
Jesse scurried into the kitchen to fix dinner; Critter’s duty was to rip open the little foil packets so I could baste my body in some sort of sticky burn ointment. It took forever because the contents of each packet covered only about a square inch of skin. And it was awkward, rubbing that stuff on myself when I couldn’t stop thinking about Sarah and her suntan lotion, and what had happened with Critter in the pool. Plus, it hard-core stung. I kept whimpering in pain, and each time, it made Critter look more miserable, which I had to admit was deeply satisfying.
“This,” I said, “should teach you it doesn’t pay to drool over Penn Acres princesses, no matter how manicured they are.”
“I wasn’t drooling,” he protested. “Besides, you were the one who wanted me to mack on her in the first place.”
“Whatever.”
“Okay, okay,” he said. “You gonna hate me forever?”
“I don’t hate you,” I said. “My sunburn hates you.”
Critter grinned. “So what would it take for me and the burn to reconcile, hmm?”
“Ice cream.”
He nodded gravely. “Yes, I can see how that might help. Let me finish painting you with the goop and then I’ll pop out for some. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
Little. Pink. Good.
Anyone but You Page 2
