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“Isabel!”
Mom’s phone makes about a dozen clicking sounds as soon as I turn my head. Satisfied that she got at least one good shot, she puts her phone back in her pocket. “You all look so grown up! Susannah would love this.”
“You sure you don’t want to hang out with us?” Jeremiah asks from his blue pool lounger.
“No, the pool has never really been my thing, and besides, I have work to do. You guys have fun.”
There’s a roar of commotion as Steven flips Taylor off the yellow and white Hawaiian print raft she was floating on and into the water. She comes up spitting and sputtering, “Damn you Steven! You’re such a jerk!” She splashes him in the face and hurls herself at him, knocking him off his feet and sending him underwater. Taylor may be little, but she’s mighty. My brother doesn’t stand a chance.
When he resurfaces, he scrubs both hands down his face and swipes his hair away from his eyes. “Oh, it’s on now.”
“You started it asshole.”
Jeremiah catches the runaway raft and sends it back their way, “Are we gonna have to separate you two or what?”
The bantering makes me laugh. How they’ve managed to make their on-again, off-again relationship last this long is a mystery to everyone, including me. But whatever makes them happy, I guess.
Susannah told me we would all come back together someday, and she was right. Today would be perfect if Conrad wasn’t hanging onto the edge of the pool, looking at me with hungry eyes. It’s unsettling. Jeremiah is literally right there.
“The red bikini looks good on you, Isabel.”
“Thanks! Jeremiah got it for me.” You know what they say, ‘what happens in the dressing room, stays in the dressing room.’ Remembering the specifics of that particular shopping trip sends a heat wave through my entire body. I need to cool off.
Lowering myself into the water, I adjust my bottoms, “Hey Jere, is there room on there for me?”
His face lights up, “Hop on, girl!”
Conrad huffs, “That’s never gonna work.”
Ignoring him, I consider my options. Coming from the side would likely tip Jeremiah over immediately, so it might work better to go straight on. I tug on the end of the raft near his feet, and he drops his legs so they’re dangling on either side to make room for me to get on. How did I not notice how short his swim trunks were before? Super hot. It’s totally unfair for him to be looking like this in broad daylight when we’re surrounded by people. The long end of the raft pops up above the water and makes a squeaky noise when I shove it down between my legs and try to shimmy forward. Jeremiah reaches for me and holds me up so I don’t fall, pulls me in, but as soon as I’m close enough to try to get my legs on either side of him, we start to sink. We topple over in a tangle of limbs and plastic, and in all of the chaos, my body registers Jeremiah’s arms around me, not letting me go. I open my eyes and see sunlight beams breaking through the surface of the water, and Jeremiah, his eyes open, his face so close to mine.
We kiss.
And then Jeremiah kicks us up to the surface.
“I told you it wasn’t gonna work,” Conrad says as he lifts himself out of the pool and walks along the edge to dry off with a black and white striped towel draped on an Adirondack chair.
“We’ll just have to get a bigger raft so we can lounge together, Bells. One of those big inflatable couches.”
“Like the one at the party. Where did that go?”
“I’m sure it’s in the garage somewhere. No guarantees it’d still hold air though. We should probably get another one. Bring the projector you got me for my birthday out here and watch a movie or something.”
“Or something,” I give him a playful shove.
“I wasn’t thinking about it like that but–”
“Sounds perfect.” I smile so big my cheeks hurt. Gosh, he makes me feel so High School.
“Hey guys, I have an idea,” Taylor shouts, “Why don’t we have a raft race? Loser buys ice cream.”
“Okay, but how’s this gonna work?” Steven asks.
“Girls on the rafts, guys in the water, and Conrad is the finish line. First team to Conrad wins.”
I jump on the blue lounger, “Game on!”
We get lined up at the far end of the pool while Conrad stalks over and kneels at the center of the other end, “On your mark, get set, go!”
Jeremiah uses his feet to spring off the back wall and propel us forward. I’m laying on my stomach, doing my best to paddle while playing defense against Taylor, who has decided to get scrappy and play bumper cars.
“Fuck.” Jeremiah stops.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
He rasps, “Charlie horse.”
I launch myself into the water. “Give me your leg.” I use one hand to bend his foot toward his knee and stretch the muscle, while the other massages his calf.
“Staylor is the winner!” Conrad announces, giving Steven a celebratory high five.
Jeremiah looks miserable. “Shit that fucking hurts. Sorry Bells.”
“No worries, winning isn’t everything.”
“And Team Jelly is last,” Conrad continues.
If this is his attempt at rubbing salt in an open wound it’s not working.
“Better?”
“Yeah, thanks Bells.”
I let go of his leg and lean in close to him, “Firsts are important, but I’m pretty sure lasts are even more important.” Especially when we’re too busy taking care of each other to care about winning. “I want you to be my last and my every and my always.”