outdoor pool

She’d never been high before, but she was sure this is what it felt like. The street lights glittered brighter, the air was cool and sharp on her skin, and her skin buzzed with the promise of his touch. And, of course, from the cheap beer racing through her bloodstream for the first time.

Anything was possible tonight.

“Do you want to go swimming?” he asked.

“Yes.” Anything with you. She hoped she didn’t sound as breathless as she felt.

She knew he had a pool at home, he was one of those people with a backyard oasis designed for a hundred pool parties. Not that she ever made it on the guest list. She was just the quiet girl who sat two seats down from him in chemistry class.

Which he pretended to remember tonight. Not that she cared much–because he was finally looking at her. Not just looking, actually, gazing, like he was trying to memorize her. She wished she’d worn something cooler than her jeans with a hole in the knee and a plain blue cardigan. Nothing special or sexy, but he wanted to whisk her away anyway.

They weren’t running toward his house, though (not that she should know that, and she caught herself before she said so). With his hand in hers, hurrying from light to dark to light to dark under buzzing, yellow streetlights, there was no reason to worry. He knew where he was going.

They skidded to a stop in front of a nondescript apartment complex, three story buildings painted beige and brown. Here? she wondered.

His grin a Cheshire cat glow in the dark, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Ready?”

She nodded, and they crept down the barely-lit driveway, keeping close to the even darker shadows against the building walls. Everything looked the same once they couldn’t see the street anymore, and she wondered how he knew where to go. But then there it was, cool blue  and kidney shaped behind a fence. There was one single light in the water, but otherwise the whole area was in shades of shadows.

“C’mon, I’ll lift you up.” He held out his hands, fingers locked, for her to step into.

For a second, she faltered. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. “Are we…?”

Instead of rolling his eyes, he puts his hands on her shoulders gently. “No, we won’t get in trouble.”

So she did it, she stepped into his hands and prayed she didn’t flail too much while climbing over. In a perfect world, she was graceful and cool, like she did this kind of thing all the time. Maybe, she thought, she finally would. Once she was safely on the ground, he hoisted himself over with poise she was sure she’d never have.

He didn’t wait to throw off his shoes and shirt and to start unbuttoning his jeans. It was late enough in spring to feel like almost-summer, but the air suddenly seemed to chill around her. She didn’t think enough about this part. But he flashed her that grin again, and the nervousness dissipated. This was going to be the start of something wonderful, she couldn’t mess it up because she was a little scared.

In his boxers, he winked at her over his shoulder and jumped in. “The water’s great!” His voice echoed too loudly in the night.

She carefully removed her jeans and sweater, then her shirt, and folded them neatly, being extra careful not to bend in a way that would show her own folds, her soft stomach and thighs. Her skin prickled while he watched her in the glow of the pool light. Just do it, just do it, just do it, she chanted to herself before launching herself into the water. Too late she remembered that she should have gotten in slowly, slinked her way down the steps instead of going for a less-than-elegant cannonball. But when she surfaced, he was laughing and reaching for her, so her worries faded again. 

They swam and laughed and dunked each other, and then his arms circled her waist and pulled her close to him. Before she could think too hard about it, she wrapped her legs around him. Wet skin on wet skin, thin fabric barely separating them. 

“You know,” he said, “you’re really cool.”

Dumbly, she replied, “You’re really cool too.”

He laughed again and touched her chin. Goosebumps raised over every inch of her skin, and he pretended not to notice as he leaned in and kissed her. Maybe the hundredth for him, probably not the first he’d had in this very pool, but it was a first for her. A first a lot of things for her.

Lights turned on in one of the apartments nearby, and voices carried toward them. “We should go,” he told her. “Before we get caught.”

Her bralette and underwear were uncomfortable under her dry clothes, but she pretended she didn’t care. The air felt even colder now, and when he saw her shivering, he pressed his hoodie into her hands. It was warm and smelled vaguely of Dawn fabric softener and Abercrombie.

He walked her to the corner of her street, standing just outside the yellow-orange circle of the streetlight. “You can’t tell anyone at school,” he said.

The floaty feeling in her stomach dropped. “Oh.”

He opened his mouth to give an excuse as to why, but she was afraid to hear it, so she rushed to continue. “Okay, I won’t.”

He kissed her cheek and then disappeared into the night.

On Monday, she waited for him in chemistry, tapping her fingers impatiently on her desk. Surely, even if they couldn’t tell anyone, he’d still sneak her a smile. Surely, they just couldn’t tell anyone yet. But when he breezed in ten seconds before the bell, his eyes never met hers. Not that he actively avoided her gaze, it was like he simply didn’t see her at all. She was invisible to him. Nonexistent.

Tuesday was the same.

And Wednesday.

Part of her wanted to walk up to him and say something, but she didn’t even have the guts to say hello.

More days passed, and she felt herself slipping further and further into oblivion. All the future memories her mind painted for them–the beach days, mall trips, ice cream runs–all the excitement she let herself feel turned to ash. If he wasn’t looking at her, who even was she?

And then she saw him with the French exchange student, making out behind the gym. They were grabbing and groping each other in a way she never thought she could, such confidence and carelessness. Such surety. Such experience. He caught her looking out of the corner of his eye and merely shrugged.

She couldn’t help it, she cried the whole way home. She felt so small. He didn’t even care. He couldn’t even give her an explanation. She should’ve known, of course. Anyone else would have seen this coming from miles away, it’s who he is. That didn’t take away the sting or the churning in her stomach.

He’d only kissed her once. They weren’t in love. He never made her any promises. She wasn’t in a romance novel.

She’d accept it eventually, that he wasn’t for her. He wasn’t her one. He wasn’t her forever. And she swore she’d have a better summer without him. But for now, she just cried, because sometimes it’s okay to let things hurt.

It was just a kiss.

It was just a kiss.

It was just one kiss.