Learning to Swim(20)

“Oh, crap,” I heard Alice say. She stepped backward, inadvertently setting off the motion control on the dock lights. Suddenly, Alice and I were illuminated as if onstage.

“Let's get out of here!” she exclaimed, and grabbed my arm. We both turned and ran as fast as we could (which was not very, thanks to Alice's slippers) back up the dock and into the darkness, practically diving behind a large bush in the corner of the Berkensteins’ yard. We crouched down as Alice peeked around the bush, scanning the perimeter with her binoculars.

“Do you think they saw us?” I panted.

“Nope,” Alice replied. She gave me the binoculars and I peered through the lens just in time to see Keith's hussy climb onto the back of his parents’ boat.

“That's the girl,” I whispered, handing the binoculars back to Alice.

“Rebecca Lipton,” Alice explained. “She's Keith's aunt.”

“His aunt? She's kind of young to be his aunt.”

“She's his mother's younger sister. She's only seven years older than Keith.”

“Wow,” I said. “Weird.”

“Yeah,” Alice agreed. She put the binoculars down and looked at me. And suddenly I was hit by the ridiculousness of it all: Alice in her curlers, robe, and slippers and me in my brand-new outfit, hiding behind a bush in the Berkensteins’ yard, spying on Keith McKnight while discussing the age of his aunt. And if that wasn't weird, I didn't know what was.

I started to laugh, and Alice followed suit, guffawing so hard that I had to grab her to prevent her from falling over. “Oh, Steffie,” she said. “Even though you should've gone to that party, I'm really glad you didn't.”

Early Sunday morning, I woke up to my landline ringing. I didn't even bother checking the caller ID because I was pretty sure it was Alice calling to ask me if I had any plans for the day and whether or not I was going to redeem myself with Keith for skipping out on his party. I was half-asleep when I picked up, so my “hello” sounded more like a “hur-mrph.”

“Steffie?”

Oh, crap. It wasn't Alice. It was… Keith.

“Hi!” I managed to immediately perk myself up.

“I have some free time and was wondering if you wanted to come to the club for a quick lesson.”

He said it just like that. Like I had never canceled my second swim lesson or stood him up at his party.

“I'll be right there,” I said, hanging up the phone.

Then my mother walked into the room wearing her bathrobe and holding a large mug of piping hot coffee. She looked like she'd barely slept an hour.

“Who was that?” she asked.

“I have to go to the club,” I said.

“On your day off?”

I shrugged, determined not to lie. If push had come to shove, I would've told her the truth. Honest.

“They can wait until you have some breakfast,” my mom said coolly, as if she had a whole spread waiting for me in the kitchen, instead of the open box of Froot Loops I knew was sitting on the table.

“No,” I said, pulling my maid uniform out of the dirty clothes hamper. “They want me to come right over.” (Notice the flexible gender use.)

I put my maid uniform on (yes, this was a tad deceitful) and rode my bike to the club. The fresh morning air felt so good as it breezed by my face. The sun hadn't been out too long, but the temperature couldn't have been milder or more inviting. It was as if some higher power was trying to convince me that the day was about opportunity and second chances. All I had to do was make the most of it.

When I arrived at Tippecanoe, I saw Keith beside the pool and gave him a quick wave before going into the dressing room and changing into my suit. It was then that I realized I hadn't showered that morning. I took a whiff of my armpits and thanked the Masters of the Universe for giving me the ability to smell my own BO. I jumped into the shower and scrubbed myself with a teeny leftover bar of Ivory soap. Before I headed out to the pool, I checked myself out in the mirror. Surprisingly enough, the wet look didn't appear too bad on me. Then I took a deep breath and strode out of the locker room.

But when I reached the deck of the pool, it was not Keith waiting for me, but Mora.

She raised an eyebrow, obviously surprised to see me standing before her all wet and in my bikini.

I gasped and instinctively crossed my arms over my bare belly. What was she doing there, anyway? Wasn't she supposed to be out of town? And most important, weren't the gods supposed to be on my side?

“She's your swim lesson?” Mora said, her voice heavy with displeasure.

“Yep,” Keith said from behind me.

“How long will you be?” she asked Keith.“’ Cause I can wait.”

“If this is a bad time,” I said, turning around to meet Keith's amazing gaze, “we can reschedule.”

He glared at Mora. “You go on ahead,” he said. “I'll meet up with you when I'm finished.”

“I don't mind waiting,” she whined. It was weird, hearing Mora sound desperate. I almost felt sorry for her. Almost.

“We can do this another time,” I repeated to Keith.

“Get in the water, Stef,” Keith said, handing me a kickboard. “Start doing laps across the shallow end.”