We spend the next morning hanging out and putting up posters about our doggie day care business, but when afternoon rolls around, our group is off in a million different directions. Micayla goes to a yoga class with her mom. Calvin and Claire go on some mystery adventure with Mr. Brookfield, their grandpa.
Bennett and I are left alone with a whole afternoon in front of us.
For some reason it makes my stomach feel queasy.
"What are you doing now?" he asks when it's just us.
"No idea. You?"
"Well, I haven't been in your new pool yet this summer. So let's do that." He looks at me, but I can't look back at him. Bennett and me alone at my pool? It was never a big deal before. But now it makes me nervous.
"Sound okay?" he asks.
I realize I haven't answered him.
"Oh yeah. Sounds great."
We get to my house, and I tell him that I need to run up to my room to change. Truth is, I already have my bathing suit on. But I need to mentally prepare.
"Go out to the pool. I'll meet you there," I tell him.
I don't want to feel different. I want it to be Bennett and me swimming together as we have a million times on Seagate. But as much as I tell myself that nothing's changed, something has.
Suddenly Bennett seeing me in my swimsuit is the scariest thing in the world. I want to swim in one of my dad's oversized T-shirts instead.
When I get to the pool, Bennett is sprawled out on a lounge chair reading a section of my dad's newspaper.
"Do you have any idea what's going on with the real estate market in New York?" he asks. "It's totally insane. You guys should sell your apartment. You would make so much money."
"Um, okay." I give him a look. "I don't really pay attention to real estate. And I didn't think you did, either."
He laughs. "Well, I don't, I guess. I was just reading this article. But don't I sound smart?"
"You do, Bennett. Very smart."
We both crack up, and he puts the newspaper on the little side table. He takes off his SGI Sweets T-shirt, throws it at me, and says, "Ready to swim?"
I don't want his smelly T-shirt on me, so I throw it back at him.
I should've gotten into the pool while he was still reading the paper. Then he couldn't watch me walk all the way from the lounges to the pool ladder. But it's too late for all that now.
Thankfully, he takes a running leap into the pool, and I have just enough time to get down the ladder and into the water before he comes up for air.
"Your new pool is awesome! And it's the perfect temperature," he says.
I can't think of a single thing to say, and I have no idea why. Bennett's been my best summertime friend forever, but my mind is blank.
"Get on the pink raft," he says. "I'll push you around the pool. Remember how we always used to do that when we were little?"
I sneer. "Yeah, but have you gotten any better at it? You tipped me over a few too many times for me to trust you and your raft-driving skills."
"I've been practicing." He flicks some pool water at me and smiles. "Come on. Don't be scared. Get on the raft."
I don't know how to get out of it. Now he's going to see me—my whole body—lying flat on the raft.
Bennett holds the raft still for me, and luckily I'm able to get up on the first try. Usually I fumble around and half fall off in the most clumsy, ungraceful way possible.
But today I'm able to do it. I'm grateful for that.
My head rests on the little raft pillow, and I let out a sigh of relief. I cover my stomach with my arms, and Bennett pushes me around the pool.
"So, what happens next year? Where are you going to school?"
I tell him about the whole middle school process in New York City—how you have to apply to some schools to get in. It's pretty complicated, almost like applying to college.
"Your friends are going to that same school?" he asks.
"Well, some are, and some aren't."
We get so involved in a conversation about school and standardized tests and all that boring stuff that I forget I'm floating on a raft in my swimsuit with Bennett pushing me around. And I forget that he likes to flip me over when I'm not paying attention.
And that's exactly what happens.
He flips over the pink raft, and I fly off into the water. I come up for air, coughing and laughing and splashing Bennett as much as I can.
And then Bennett and I are standing so close to each other in the pool that we're practically touching. Suddenly I get freaked out all over again.
"So, what should we do now?" he asks.
I'm relieved that Bennett has changed the mood.
"Do you have any good snacks? I'm starving," he adds.
"Hmm. Well, we did just get here and go grocery shopping. So we should be at our snack peak of the summer, shouldn't we?"
"Good point. Let's go raid the fridge!"
"Go on inside," I tell him. "I want to swim a lap first."
This is a total lie, but I don't want to get out of the water with him watching me.
"You're suddenly into exercise?" he asks me.
"Well, I'm trying," I explain, hoping I sound believable. "I might even try out for my school's swim team this year."
"Wow. Impressive." He arches an eyebrow. And there's a reason for him to be surprised. I've never been into sports. When I say I like to swim, I mean that I like to wade in the water and float around.
"Hey, I have an idea. I could be your coach this summer!" he says. "Get you ready for tryouts."
As soon as he says it, I realize my mistake. Bennett is an amazing swimmer. He took lessons from the time he was six months old. If he's my coach, he's going to see me in a bathing suit all the time. I mean, he would anyway, since we swim every day on Seagate. But this would be different. This would be up close and personal.
"You don't seem enthused by the idea," he says.
"I guess I'm realizing all the time and effort it would take, and I got tired just thinking about it." I laugh. "You know me. I don't like to exert too much energy."
"Right. But I do want to make use of this great new pool." He shrugs. "Well, it's just an idea. And it would be fun to hang out more."
He wraps a yellow towel around his shoulders and goes into the house.
I stay in the pool and think about this coaching idea, and part of it seems enticing—all that alone time with Bennett. But it makes me nervous, too.
I wish I understood what I was feeling.
