25. Pride and Pool Water
25
Pride and Pool Water
“That’s so random.” I wipe my eyes. “Where would I even get a swimsuit?”
Luke looks around. “Do you need one?” He bends double to untie his sneakers and kicks the first one off.
“You want to go skinny-dipping?” I ask, not trying to hide the horror in my tone.
“Why not? How many other chances will we get?” Luke kicks off his other sneaker and uses his feet to push off his socks. “We’re in a dark, enclosed, private space. No one can see us. It’s got to be better than a lake with alligators or leeches.”
“There are no alligators anywhere near Little Elm. I’m not sure about leeches, but I doubt it.”
Luke pulls off his shirt. He undoes the top button of his shorts, his hands brushing the trail of hair. “If you can’t swim …”
“I know how to swim.”
Luke holds his zipper but doesn’t undo it. “You can’t be shy. You planned an entire big-budget dance sequence to tell some guy you liked him. This is nothing in comparison.”
“Not while naked.” I clasp my hands together and slide them down in front of me.
“I would be too.”
I know he knows, but I point it out anyway: “I’m fat under my clothes.”
Luke runs a hand over the hair on his chest that goes from nipple to nipple. “And I’m hairy. And I’ve probably got a pimple on my butt.”
“You can pop a pimple.”
Luke shrugs. “We’ve both got a general idea of what’s going on under each other’s clothes.”
I keep my hands clasped in front of me. “General isn’t specific.”
“The water and the darkness can cover up the specifics,” he says. “We need something to do. I’m going in. If this really makes you uncomfortable, I can grab my trunks out of my locker.”
I take a deep breath and unclasp my hands. I’m locked in a pool with a guy on my eighteenth birthday wanting to skinny-dip. Cass would disown me if I let my insecurities stop me. “Ok. But no looking. We turn around when the other person is getting in or out. Promise?”
“Cross my heart.” And he crosses his heart the same as the day we met. Luke lets his shorts drop and kicks them up onto the bench. I try not to look too much at him in just his boxer briefs.
I stand and face the locker room door. Before I have a chance to even remove my shirt, I hear a splash. I look over my shoulder to see Luke’s underwear slung over the bench I just got up from and him emerging from the water, pushing his wet hair back off his face.
“Get in,” he calls.
I check a few more times that Luke is facing in the other direction as I take off my clothing, fold it into a neat pile on the bench. I’m tempted to fold his too but think it would be weird if he came back to his stuff and found I’d touched his delicates.
No matter how many times I check, he is facing away.
I take off my underwear and toss them on top of my pile of clothing before I tiptoe to the edge of the pool. I sit on the cold tiles and quietly slide in, making sure I’m covered to above my chest before I say, “You can turn around now.”
Luke swims over. “No leeches.”
“No leeches,” I repeat.
“If you put your head under, it’s not as cold.” Luke disappears, the dappled surface of the water catching moonlight. He reappears seconds later, shaking his head and spraying me.
“Stop! You’re getting me wet,” I squeal.
He splashes water at me. “You’re already wet.”
I use my hand to shoot water back at him and soon we’re in the middle of a splash fight, spraying each other with as much laughter as water.
“Want to race?” Luke asks when we get tired of roughhousing.
“You’ll win.”
“I’ll give you a head start.”
“That won’t make a difference.” I stare down at the dark outline of my chest and belly jutting forward under the water. “And I don’t want my bare butt on display for you, thank you very much. I’m already pushing the boundaries of my comfort being platonically naked in front of you.”
“And you thought I was the one hanging with the frat boys?” Luke deepens his voice and dulls his eyes. “Yo, bruh. It’s cool, man. No big deal. We’re just gonna get platonically naked.”
I splash Luke again. “You’re so dumb.”
“If you don’t want to race, how about we have a contest to see who can hold their breath longest?” Without waiting for my reply, he grips my hand in his. He holds them up between us like we’re about to arm wrestle. “On the count of three. One. Two.” With his free hand he pinches his nose and says in a muffled voice, “Three.”
I have just enough time to pinch my nose too before Luke pulls me underwater with him. I kick out my legs to stay down and open my eyes. I can make out Luke’s blurry, wavy shadow in front of me. Luke grips tight to my hand and I grip back. A tingle runs up my arm. Bubbles expand in front of our faces before they escape. My cheeks are puffed and my eyes sting from the chlorine, but I keep them open to watch Luke.
I keep moving my legs to keep me underwater. My heart races, beating in my ears so loudly I don’t know how Luke isn’t managing to hear it. My lungs start to ache, and I feel like I have no choice but to inhale at any second.
I pull Luke up by our joined hands. He surfaces, bumping up against me. I jut my hips back, away from Luke. He doesn’t loosen his grip. We both take deep breaths, our chests heaving.
“You win,” I say, panting.
“Want to go again? Best two out of three.”
“You’d beat me every time.” I float closer.
Luke blinks slowly. Water droplets cling to his eyelashes, liquid crystals. A trail of water snakes from his temple down along his jawline and over his neck. The tingling in my arm intensifies when Luke opens his eyes and holds me pinned in his gaze. My breathing isn’t slowing. The water feels like it’s crackling everywhere it connects with my skin. And I’m aware of how naked, how exposed I am, how we shed the barriers left between us.
I yank my hand from his and dart back, unable to hold on or be near him a moment longer. “I’m ready to get out,” I say. “Turn around.”
Luke nods once, then swims to the opposite side of the pool and rests his arms on the edge as I climb the ladder. I hold my hands over my junk as I waddle across the deck toward the locker room.
“I’m taking the women’s,” I call, grabbing my stack of clothing as I pass. “I saw a towel in there earlier.”
I get into the shower and am fortunate enough to find some shampoo and conditioner in the built-in caddy. The water is cold, but that’s a blessing.
I return to the pool area clothed, using the towel to dry my hair. Luke is still in the water swimming. I watch the shadow of his body move down the length of the pool. He bursts from the depths, spraying water droplets and moonlight from his sun-soaked body. With both hands, he smooths his wet hair off his face and walks through the shallows, up the kiddie steps to emerge into the pool air.
I cover my eyes with my fingers, hoping he didn’t catch me watching. I sense him as he comes nearer.
He passes by me and walks toward the men’s locker room.
“You were the one who said no peeking, Casanova,” he says before he disappears, leaving me no time for a defense. My entire face burns.
Luke returns from the locker room with a towel tied around his waist. He doesn’t say anything as he picks up his underwear and slides them and his shorts on under his towel.
“Are you hungry?” he asks once his shirt and shoes are back on.
“Where are we going to get food from?”
Luke doesn’t say anything as he heads back to the men’s locker room again and returns with candy bars and small bags of chips like the ones you get on Halloween.
“I had some Fuzzy Peaches, but I ate them before the party. I love gummy candies.”
I take the bags of chips. “Ketchup? All-dressed? Why do I recognize none of these flavors?”
“Only the finest of junk food for me,” Luke says. “Canadian imports from my aunt. She ships me care packages.”
“So, you can eat garbage instead of real meals like the true frat boy you are?”
“Totally, bruh.” Luke takes back one of the bags of chips and pulls it open. “Platonic snacking, man,” he says. He offers me a chip and hums the opening to the happy birthday song.
We pass the bags back and forth between us. If there’s only one of a type of chocolate bar or candy I’ve never tried before, Luke insists I’m the one to eat it. When we’re done, he offers me some mouthwash also from his locker.
“Do you have a bodega in there?” I ask, peering around his shoulder.
“I like fresh breath,” he says without any further explanation. “We should get some sleep. Hopefully, the cleaning staff will come by at some point tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” I say, remembering. “I’m supposed to open the store tomorrow. I can’t miss work.”
Luke shrugs. “It’s too late to call anyone. You’ll have to phone your uncle or Gladys in the morning and explain. We should probably conserve my battery until then, in case.” Luke powers down his phone and tucks it into his pocket.
I silently curse. I can’t call Gladys. All the tepidness she’s come to treat me with will vanish and I’ll never hear the end of how the first and only time I’m trusted to open the store, I louse it up and let everyone down. That means calling Uncle Andy and letting him know he shouldn’t have trusted me. As much as I don’t want to admit it, that’s my best option.
I look around and only see hard aluminum benches. Sleep sounds a lot easier than it looks right now. With all the grace of a fish flopping on dry land, I manage to lie with the narrow seating down the center of my spine.
“My back is going to be so sore in the morning, assuming I manage not to fall off this thing,” I say but no one answers.
Luke emerges from the supply room, his arms full. He drops the items he’s holding onto the deck and begins moving them around. “We’re not sleeping on those,” he says as he works.
I tumble off the bench, landing on my knees. Luke has assembled a bunch of flotation devices and life vests into a makeshift bed.
“I’ve only got the one dry towel left,” he says. “We’re going to have to get cozy. Do you sleep right or left?”
“I don’t know. I have a single.”
“Same. You take the side against the wall. I don’t want to have to dive in to save you if you roll into the pool.”
“Do you really think that’s going to happen?” I ask, getting down onto the foam boards that soften the hard floor a little bit.
“I’m not the accident-prone one,” Luke says.
I want to argue but instead I push Luke lightly as he settles in beside me and adjusts a lifejacket between his arm and head.
“I’d keep your little jacket thing on,” he says as he tosses the towel over both our torsos. “Night, Casanova.”
“Night, Luke,” I say as I make myself comfortable.
We lie together, a few inches between our backs. A low humming sound comes from the pool, either a pump or filter. Luke’s freshly washed hair gives off the grapefruit smell strongly. The heat off his body radiates into the space between us and warms my back. The sound of his breathing deepens and becomes heavy.
The thoughts of being caught and getting into more trouble fill my head. Dean Perez. Gladys. Corner Books. Even Cass chastising me for being out all night.
But my worries are nothing compared to how tired I am. I fall asleep and only wake up when I feel a chill up the front of my body. Luke’s back is pressed against mine. The towel is only half on him. It’s slipped off me completely.
Groggily, I roll over, wanting to warm my chest and arms. I slide a hand in my pocket and feel something hard and round. I pull out the stone but with it comes the penny Wanda gave me. Blinking sleep from my eyes, I push myself up on one elbow.
“What the hell,” I mumble and throw the coin. It plunks into the waters. My wish for a safe return.
I pull the towel up over Luke’s shoulders and then my own before I tuck my arms between my body and Luke’s and drift back to sleep.
I turn my head into my lifejacket pillow, trying to block the morning light incessantly beating against my lids. I’m not ready to be awake and my eyes don’t want to open.
Someone’s arm is over me, hugging me, a hand on my soft belly. Without thinking, I clutch the hand, lacing my fingers through.
“Bobby,” I hear someone whisper into my ear, their breath tickling my lobe and neck.
I groan and cover my face with my arm.
“You’ve got to wake up. Someone’s coming.”
Luke leans over me, his mouth by my ear.
“What time is it?” I ask, feeling suddenly very alert.
“I haven’t turned my phone on. I heard keys jingling. Someone’s going to open that door.” Luke points. “Get ready to slip past them into the hallway. Head right and then left and leave out the main entrance. Hurry.”
“What about you?” I ask, getting to my feet.
“Don’t worry about me. I don’t have any strikes.”
“But if you get caught …”
“I can deal with the consequences. If you’re stopped, whatever you do, don’t give them your real name. Tell them you’re Casanova or some actor named Roger.”
I want to laugh but instead I quietly take my position. I press myself against the wall beside the door Luke pointed to. He lies down, facing away from the door, positioning himself to look like he’s asleep.
Keys in the lock. The door swings open and a janitorial cart pushes in followed by a guy wearing headphones. He lowers his headphones and scratches his head as he sees Luke laid out on the floor.
I slip behind him.
I stop myself from running, worried about making too much noise and hurry, following Luke’s directions. Once I’m outside the building, clouds blow in, and the wind picks up. The sky darkens. Rain can’t be too far behind.
I have no idea what time it is or if I’ve missed opening Corner Books, but maybe, if the penny from last night worked, then both Luke and I will have good luck.