Chapter 10 #2
“Thanks, Chicot.” Monty rolled back on her heels, feet bare as she played with a ruffle on her swimsuit. “Um, do you want a margarita? I can get you one while you change.”
Chicot nodded quickly. She didn’t care that she didn’t really like tequila or that lime juice often gave her heartburn.
She just wanted to keep talking to Monty.
Chicot knew she should be careful, that Monty might have feelings for her and Chicot didn’t know if she was going to get to be with Monty like this for more than a summer.
Still, if she could at least make Monty laugh like she just had, that would make Chicot very happy.
“That sounds great.” Chicot carefully stepped around Monty. “I’ll be out quick.”
Chicot slipped herself into the bathroom, catching a glimpse of Monty as she closed the door behind her.
Monty held her can to her lips, her eyebrows squished together and lips parted.
She turned away before Chicot saw anything more, so Chicot just closed the bathroom door, locking it.
As she pulled her swimsuit out of her tote bag, Chicot pressed her lips together, the look on Monty’s face stuck in her head.
The thought was gone once she got changed.
She was suddenly hyperconscious of the width of her hips and her, to be frank, lack of breasts.
To top it all off, she’d let Elijah convince her that the sports bra she’d brought looked fine as a bathing suit top, but now that she had it on, she felt almost prudish in it.
Even with her board shorts on, which barely touched her mid-thigh, she felt like she was trying to hide something.
But she wasn’t. She just liked to have pockets.
She suddenly regretted all of her life decisions that had led her to believe this was good enough to be seen in.
Sure, it would have been fine for a day at the lake, but a party with other adults and drinking?
She felt like a child as she stepped out of the bathroom, her tote with her cargo pants and black cami under her arm, wondering if she should turn tail and run to put them back on.
But Monty was standing outside the door, her lips curved up on one side as Chicot stepped out and a second canned margarita in hand.
“That suit is very you,” Monty said. “It’s nice.”
Chicot looked down at her board shorts, which she was fairly certain came from Walmart while she’d still been in high school, and her years-old, black sports bra that had gray leopard print on it.
The shorts were a light green color, and honestly now that she was looking at them again, it was a good color for Chicot.
She played with the ends of her damp hair, smiling shyly.
“Thank you.” She reached out to take the other can Monty offered, and they were off.
It only occurred to Chicot that she maybe should have brought up the thing about not having a phone while they’d still been by the bathroom.
They’d been mostly alone, and now as Chicot followed Monty out to the deck, she realized she might not get another moment to clear things up, and she’d like to do it sooner rather than later.
Chicot quickly counted about ten people outside, either sitting on the deck that ran along the long side of the pool or in the water.
Nearly everyone had a drink in hand, not all of them alcoholic, but they held them out of the water or set them on the side of the pool.
There were people Chicot had seen inside in the water now too, some with just their legs in and others hanging onto inflatable animals or pool noodles as they floated.
The pool itself was large—an oval shape that took up a good portion of the yard—allowing people to congregate in small groups and share the space easily.
Lyza was in an inner tube that looked like a donut, while Elvis remained on the deck, basking in the sun.
Monty stepped directly into the pool, so Chicot simply followed, both of them still holding their drinks.
Chicot had to hold hers much higher since the water came up to nearly her chin.
She promptly found a noodle to keep her at least somewhat dry.
When Lyza saw her, she snorted and yelled for Elvis to throw them another inner tube.
“Fellow shorties gotta help each other out,” Lyza said. Chicot just chuckled, happy to have something to float in while they all enjoyed the cool water.
Monty settled herself against the side of the pool, smiling as they listened to Lyza chatter about faire gossip.
It was already half past six, but being July, the sun was still high and warm.
Eventually, they were joined by more people, many of them food stall workers who were local to the area.
Chicot learned quickly that more people would be coming to the party now that the faire had fully closed.
The food stalls worked in two shifts, morning and afternoon, which Chicot hadn’t been aware of since she was always so busy with performances and she usually ate PB&J sandwiches for lunch rather than buying one.
They also asked questions about Elijah after politely making small talk for an appropriate amount of time before trying to pry information out of Chicot.
“Well, you know—” Chicot shrugged. “We decided after we spent summer being birthday clowns that we’d rather spend our time at ren faires, where there were fewer children.”
She knew they’d believe it, though she hoped Lyza didn’t give her away since she knew the truth.
It wasn’t entirely untrue either, but they hadn’t been clowns.
They didn’t really want to have to constantly explain that they’d been Circle K employees before Elijah’s mom gave them the RV and gotten their first audition at Albion. This was more whimsical.
“Wait, I thought you worked at a gas station?” Lyza asked as the food stall workers wandered off. Chicot shook her head slightly, smiling.
“Yes, but don’t tell them that.” Chicot winked at Lyza and she laughed.
Elijah came by at some point to make sure that Chicot was okay. They had floated to the far side of the pool, and he was standing in the grass, complaining that his legs were being bitten by bugs the whole time. He still agreed to bring them more drinks, and so Monty and Chicot got a second round.
It was all exceedingly normal for a while.
Chicot drank, then took a shot with Lyza—though Lyza was drinking tonic water with lime—and made jokes about body shots.
When Chicot was comfortably buzzed, the party felt like a dream.
She had spent most of her teenage years and early twenties bumming around odd places like graveyards or parking lots with Elijah, and the short time she’d gone to community college, she hadn’t made many friends.
This felt like what she should have been doing as a teen.
Especially when Ken ran out onto the deck and yelled:
“Chicken tournament!” He then unceremoniously hopped into the pool, splashing most of the people who were floating.
Chicot was just enough drinks in to find this endearing rather than annoying, as people started to grab partners or move out of the way.
She didn’t expect Lyza to grab her, pulling her toward Monty.
Playing chicken meant sitting on Monty’s shoulders, which also meant a lot of Monty touching Chicot and Chicot trying not to think about Monty’s nice hands or skin.
“These two are a team!” Lyza yelled and gestured at the two of them wildly.
“Wait—” Monty started, but before she could say much more, Ken had Elijah add them to the list.
Lyza had already paddled away, absconding from the pool to be with Elvis. He reached up a big hand, pulling her down onto the lawn chair with him as she laughed.
“Guess we’re a team?” Chicot looked up at Monty, still holding her inner tube, which looked like a watermelon. Monty just sighed, setting her drink down on the deck.
“Yeah, you good with that?” Monty asked. Chicot took a small step closer to Monty.
“Course, I know you can hold me.”
This made Monty’s smile waver slightly, her lips parting, but she didn’t say anything.
She seemed to do this to Chicot a couple times a day now.
Chicot was starting to think that maybe she had a much better filter than anyone she’d ever met.
She also sort of hoped that Monty felt comfortable telling her things.
She didn’t have much time to think about it because they were soon being called into the center of the pool to face off against Martina, the sausage stand lady, and Brad, who worked in one of the leather shops at the faire.
Chicot only knew who they were because Elijah announced their names loudly for the group.
Martina was already on Brad’s shoulders, grinning as she wiggled her fingers in anticipation at Chicot, the two of them shouting corny trash talk as the crowd laughed.
Chicot tried to think of a rebuttal, but nothing good came to mind, and then Monty was swimming between her legs so Chicot could get on her shoulders, and she was promptly distracted.
Monty’s strong hands wrapped around her calves, holding onto her tightly. “You better win up there.”
Chicot laughed. “Uh, I’ll try?”
Ken had procured a whistle from somewhere, standing between Monty and Chicot and their opponents with his hand up.
He quickly explained that they were not to claw each other with their nails and that the first to fall from their partner’s shoulders into the water lost. Once Ken confirmed that both Chicot and Martina understood, he waited until they both seemed ready and blew the whistle.