My heart is pounding as we approach the pool. I follow Charlotte into the breezeway where she smoothly flashes a card at a sleepy-eyed high school guy, and into a locker room that says “women.” This makes me even more nervous, and my stomach twists, threatening to reject my breakfast.

I don’t know why the locker room makes me anxious, because we already have our bathing suits on. I just follow Charlotte through the damp-smelling space, out into the poolyard.

She turns and smiles at me. It makes me relieved and kind of freaks me out, all at the same time. “Let’s go put our stuff over there, that way we can hear the radio.”

I nod. The radio sounds sort of tinny when played through the PA system. Song has the same words over and over again. “It’s gettin, it’s gettin’, it’s gettin’ kinda heavy...”

I follow Charlotte past some little kids. She raises a hand to someone at the far end of the yard, but doesn’t go over.

Gettin’ kinda heavy. We shake out our towels. Mine is plain blue, and it’s not really mine. I don’t own a beach towel.

Charlotte takes off her top, and I swallow, looking away. I take mine off too, just so I can hide for a few seconds with my shirt over my head. This grass was just mowed. I can still smell it, mixed with the smells of chlorine and suntan lotion.

“Okay, see that guy over there?” She says, pointing to a kid about our age with a tan and red swim trunks.

“Yeah.”

“Stay away from him. He supposedly date raped one of my friend’s sisters.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah. And even if it’s not true, he’s a creep.”

“Shit.” I guess they do have perverts in Whittier too.

I leave my shorts on, and roll over on my belly. The people at the pool are about 40 percent moms with kids, 50 percent kids on their own, some younger and some older than us, and maybe 10 percent college students and old people. I nod my head faintly to the beat, feeling the sun begin to heat the skin between my shoulder blades. Charlotte is fucking around with her suntan lotion. I don’t turn to look as she rubs it into her legs, then her arms.

I rest my head on my arms and breathe in the smell of earth and cut grass. Close my eyes and the sounds get louder, clearer. Kids laughing and shrieking, splashing water, tinny radio, an airplane somewhere up ahead. It’s almost peaceful.

“You want some of this sunscreen, Shane?”

“In a minute.” I don’t want to move right now. I feel very safe in the dark space between my bent arms, close to the earth.

“You’re gonna swim, aren’t you?”

“Oh, totally. I just like to get warm first, then jump in.”

“Me too,” she says, flopping on her belly beside me. “See that girl in the blue bikini?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s Lucie Wright. She’s in our grade.”

“Oh.” I don’t want to know this. I have a month until I have to worry about people.

“And that guy with her is Scott Yeager, he and his twin brother are in our class too.”

“Yeah? Are they cool?”

“They’re all right. I don’t know them too well. When Ginger gets back from camp you can meet her.”

Fabulous. I don’t want to meet Ginger. I don’t want to ever leave the house. Every time I do this, it gets more and more tiring. I mumble something like “cool” and close my eyes.

“And Deb and Mackenzie will probably be here later, you’ll like them.”

Sure I will. S’gettin kinda hectic.

I notice a tall tan girl walk out of the locker room, she’s familiar somehow. Her skin is dark tan, and her hair is up in a tight bun. When she walks she sways her hips. Where do I know her from?

She comes over to the small area behind the high dive and sits down. I wait to see if Charlotte says anything about her. She’s definitely an imposing figure, one of the few non-white people around. I watch her out of the corner of my eye, but Charlotte doesn’t say anything. Where do I know her from? She could have lived in Inglewood, maybe?

Then it hits me. She’s the girl from the nail salon. She opens a book, and starts reading. She must be in college. A high school senior at the least. Still has her perfect white-tipped nails. I wonder if they’re real. Mine never grow past the tips of my fingers.

The music changes, Taylor Dayne and “Love Will Leave You Back.” Stupid silly love songs.

We lay there until my skin feels like it’s on fire, like it will just explode. Charlotte is humming along with the song, in tune, but not paying much attention.

“I’m gonna go in the water. You coming?”

“Nah, you go ahead.”

My skin wants that cool water like nothing else. I don’t know why I say no.

“Okay,” she grins at me and something inside my chest flutters. I watch her as she walks to the edge. She is beautiful enough that she could totally get away with strutting, but she just walks, with her head high and shoulders straight. The ends of her golden hair waft down from the clip at the back of her head. At the edge, she dips in a toe and then, sort of hops in, barely making a splash. I realize that I'm holding my breath, waiting for her to surface.I keep watching. After a second her head pops up over the edge of the pool. Her hair is wet and plastered to her head. “C’mon Shane, the water feels great!”

I smile, wave her off. I don’t know why. The water looks amazing. I'm smiling, though, and I know I can't resist much longer.

“C’mon,” she says, and without deciding to move I find that I’m standing up, taking off my shorts. I feel like running into the water but I restrain myself. When I’m about three feet from the edge I start running, and then I crash into the water.

Cold. It takes my breath away.

I go down about three feet, then surface through the top, shaking my head. The water feels deliciously cold. “Whoo,” I say. Charlotte is grinning. I can’t help but grin back.

Maybe this isn’t so bad.

.

Later we’re at a picnic table, eating hot dogs and drinking coke. Charlotte is talking about a dance they had at camp. She bites the end off a french fry and dips it into the ketchup. I don’t mind.

This guy is coming up behind Charlotte. He’s wearing oversized glasses and he looks like a big dork. He makes me think of Dorien Devlin, but a dorky version. I feel the muscles in my legs tense up.

I don’t like this. I open my mouth to clear my throat, but before I can warn her the guy comes up and puts his hands over her eyes. Up close he’s not so bad looking, if you look past the glasses. His jaw is square and his eyes are sort of blue. Not my type for sure. Is he her type?

“Guess who?”

Charlotte turns and sees him and squeals. “Kevin. You scared me!”

“When did you get back?”

“Yesterday. How are you?”

“I’m good.” She takes a sip of her coke and he looks at me.

“Hey,” I say.

“Oh. Kevin, this is my friend Shane. Shane, this is Kevin.”

I’m her friend? After one day? This has to be too good to be true. No fucking way. This girl trusts way too easily.

Kevin is looking at me. “Shane. That’s a boy’s name. Hi.”

I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Do I look like a fucking boy, I want to say? But the thing is, flat as my boobs are, I probably do.

They talk for a bit about people I don’t know, and things I don’t care about. He sits down really close to her and she smiles at him a lot. He totally has a crush on her. But I can’t figure out if she’s crushing back, or if she’s just that nice.

He invites her to a barbeque his parents are having that weekend, then he leaves. Afterward, she says. “That’s Kevin. He was my science partner. He’s pretty cool.”

If he’s cool, then I’m Chesty McBoobs, I think. But I just nod and pretend to chew.

“He’s got a major crush on you.” I finally say.

“Kevin? Really?” Her eyebrows wrinkle. She has no clue, and I can’t decide if that’s stupid, not knowing how she effects people, or if it’s just nice. She’s not the snob I’d envisioned, for sure.

“Yeah. Really.”

“You think? Oh man, I hope I’m not encouraging him.”

“Why not, he’s not so bad, if he’d lose the glasses.”

“No way. No thank you. I just like him as a friend.”

Who does she like, I wonder for the rest of the afternoon. Nobody who I can figure out.

Later, Sandy and Jakey come, and she splashes around with Jake in the shallow end. Charlotte joins them and I sit on the side, dangling my feet and thinking.

What would my life be like if my mom wasn’t crazy and my dad was alive? Would they be divorced by now anyway? Would I have a little brother like Jakey? A little sister? Both?

Normally watching my foster family would make me feel sad, make me ache for my dad, but today it just doesn’t feel so sad. She introduced me as her friend. What does that mean? I try to think back to how my other foster siblings introduced me to people. If at all. Maybe “Shane, the new kid.” Doreen Devlin called me “the foster dork.” Better than Darien, I guess.

After about an hour of splashing, two girls come and talk to Charlotte. I try not to look, or to eavesdrop, but they’re like ten feet away. I think they’re in her grade. Our grade, I mean. I turn away and try to focus on the way the light moves in waves at the bottom of the pool.

“Hey, Shane, come over here, I want you to meet someone,” Charlotte says. The girls turn and stare at me. One is really pretty. Dark hair, black bikini. Developed.

I smile, feeling like an idiot, and jump into the water, since that’s the quickest way to get over there. The pretty girl is all curves and boobs. Wow. The other is rail-thin, thinner than me, tall and serious. She kind of looks like Meryl Streep.

“Hey,” I say, smile plastered on my face.

“Guys this is Shane. Shane, this is Debbie and Mackenzie.”

“Hey,” I smile, phony smile. I hate meeting new people. I don’t wanna know what they think of me.

“Hey,” they say. They’re nice enough. Smiling. Debbie is really pretty. She’ll think I’m a freak if I look at her boobs. Charlotte didn’t call me her friend this time. Did I do something to piss her off?

Sandy comes over to talk to the girls, asks about their parents. They are very polite with her. I feel even more awkward, somehow.

After that, Sandy announces that it’s time to leave, and she takes us home. I’m grateful, because I’m suddenly so tired. I don’t know if it’s the sun or meeting all those people or what. I nearly fall asleep in the back seat.

When we get home I go to our room. I feel grungy from chlorine and sun lotion. I pull some clean clothes out of the bag full of stuff Sandy bought me, and disappear into the bathroom.

I peel off the bathing suit. Can already see where the sunburn is starting. I hate being so damn pale. It’s gonna hurt later. There is a long mirror on the back of the bathroom door. I look so skinny. Am I ever gonna grow boobs? Not huge ones like Debbie, just, I dunno, medium ones like Charlotte would be nice. I have like three pubic hairs and they look sort of silly. Like my body can’t make up its mind. I think about shaving them. Hair or no hair, all or nothing.

Finally I sigh and get into the tub. After a minute I get the water to just the right temperature so it doesn’t hurt my sunburn.

Sandy went to the store today and they have like three kinds of shampoo. I smell them all, just because I can. I wind up using the same kind as Charlotte. It smells like coconut. It feels good to be clean. Instead of having bar soap they have body wash. I pour a dollop out and start soaping my body. I’m not used to having legs this smooth.

I feel suddenly like I need to get off. I can’t do it standing up though. I could use my hands, I suppose. I open the shower curtain, peek out. The door is still shut. I didn’t think to lock it. What would she think of that, walking in and seeing me?

I need to come.

I close the shower curtain with a sigh and put conditioner in my hair.

When I come out, there is music coming from the bedroom. I expect that it’s a record, but when I come in I see Charlotte standing there, playing her violin. She stops and smiles at me, almost shyly.

In that instant I know without a doubt that I like this girl, that I want to be her friend. She’s nothing like I imagined.

“Don’t stop,” I say, and she smiles back. She raises her bow and picks up where she left off. It’s an upbeat song, happy. Lively. I sit down on my bed and comb my hair. That takes about all of three seconds, since I cut it all off. I move back on the bed, sit there with my knees up to my chest, listening. I hope it doesn’t make her feel awkward, but I meet her eyes and she grins and keeps playing.

She stops, but before I can say anything, she starts again, in a totally different tempo, different key. The song is familiar but not. She’s watching me, some kind of twinkle in her eyes. I know this song. I screw my face up, trying to figure out what she’s playing, and it sounds so different on the violin. The part that’s normally played on the piano.

Then it hits me. She’s playing “Imagine.” I swallow. All the moisture from my mouth leaves and it must go to my eyes. She’s watching my face for my reaction.

She reaches the part where the singing starts, then stops. “I figured that out while you were in the shower.”

I sit there, blinking, smiling, trying to put words together. Her hair is up in a ponytail, one rebellious bit falling down the side of her face. I’ve never met anyone like her. I don’t know what to say to her. Can she tell that there are tears in my eyes?

She smiles, kind of nervous. Nothing like I thought she would be.

I should say something, but the words are swimming in front of me, and I can’t decide which one to grab. Amazing, sweet, beautiful.

“That was fucking awesome,” I finally say.

She smiles. Grins. Beams. Ear to ear. She starts playing again.

Shane, I think, as I watch her, where did you land yourself this time?