packed. The thing only covered what was required by law. Maybe there would be some cute boy living next door who’d see me through the fence. Or perhaps Sylvia had enough money to hire a sexy pool boy I could flirt with. After striking out with Harrison, I needed a little bit of ego stroking.
I grabbed my iPod and walked downstairs, not bothering to put on a T-shirt or anything as a cover-up. No point getting something else dirty, after all.
Nathan was making a bowl of cereal at the counter when I walked into the kitchen. He was wearing a pair of black athletic shorts with a rusty-orange-colored T-shirt (how did Harrison like him when he was so poorly dressed?), and he had to push his messy hair out of his eyes. I didn’t miss theway those eyes popped when he looked up and saw me. The way his cheeks flushed and his mouth parted a little was all the ego stroking I needed. Apparently he didn’t have to be drunk to find me attractive. Good to know.
“Um… hey.” He cleared his throat twice. “You… You going swimming?”
“No, just lying out,” I said, grabbing a Diet Coke from the fridge.
“Oh. Cool.” He turned away, focusing on his hands a little harder than was required to pour milk into a bowl of cereal.
It was interesting seeing calm, collected Nathan looking a little shaken. While I’d been biting my tongue to keep from screaming at dinner every night and downing tequila alone in my bedroom to keep my mind off the awkwardness and frustration, Nathan had seemed completely unaffected. Call me cruel, but I wanted to see him squirm a little.
“Hey, Nathan?” He looked up from his cereal bowl, and I smiled as innocently as I could. “Do you know if anyone would mind me sunbathing topless? Would the neighbors see?”
And here I thought his blush couldn’t get any deeper.
“Because,” I continued, holding the can of Diet Coke in one hand and tugging lightly at the cord that held my iPod around my neck with the other, “it’s just that the tan looks so much… smoother.”
Nathan took a deep breath in through his nose and let it out slowly before answering. “There’s a chance the people next door might get offended.”
“Oh.” I sighed. I could see Nathan’s eyes following the progress of my hand as I tucked my earbuds into my ears, letting my fingers slide across my neck just a little. “Fine. I guess I’ll just get tan lines. Thanks anyway, Nathan.”
“Yeah… no problem.”
With a smirk, I turned and walked out the sliding glass door.
As far as I could tell, there was no cute pool boy, which was kind of a bummer, but whatever. The look on Nathan’s face would have to last me for a while. I slid into a lounge chair, kicking up my bare feet and scrolling through my iPod. I was in the mood for some Madonna. Not her new stuff, but old-school Madonna. Back before the Kabbalah and the MTV make-out with Britney Spears. So I skimmed through my playlist until I found “Like a Prayer,” then closed my eyes, letting the sound and sun wash over me.
I lay there for a while, listening to a shuffled mix on my iPod. As a rule, I didn’t listen to anything released after 1999, so every song that came on was pretty awesome. Midway through the chorus of “Smells Like Teen Spirit,” I got the distinct impression that someone was watching me.
Wondering if maybe a cute boy really did live next door, I opened my eyes.
Gross.
Someone next door was watching me through the gaps in the fence, but he wasn’t cute, or remotely close to boyhood. This gray-haired old dude was totally ogling me. When he saw me glaring at him, he immediately went back to pulling the weeds in his pathetic little garden. I guess his wife refusedto do it. Good for her. If her man was eye-raping teenagers, he ought to be doing the hard labor. Pervert.
I got up and turned my chair around to face the other direction so the perv couldn’t look at me. Any enthusiasm I’d felt earlier for tanning was pretty much gone. Having
I grabbed my iPod and walked downstairs, not bothering to put on a T-shirt or anything as a cover-up. No point getting something else dirty, after all.
Nathan was making a bowl of cereal at the counter when I walked into the kitchen. He was wearing a pair of black athletic shorts with a rusty-orange-colored T-shirt (how did Harrison like him when he was so poorly dressed?), and he had to push his messy hair out of his eyes. I didn’t miss theway those eyes popped when he looked up and saw me. The way his cheeks flushed and his mouth parted a little was all the ego stroking I needed. Apparently he didn’t have to be drunk to find me attractive. Good to know.
“Um… hey.” He cleared his throat twice. “You… You going swimming?”
“No, just lying out,” I said, grabbing a Diet Coke from the fridge.
“Oh. Cool.” He turned away, focusing on his hands a little harder than was required to pour milk into a bowl of cereal.
It was interesting seeing calm, collected Nathan looking a little shaken. While I’d been biting my tongue to keep from screaming at dinner every night and downing tequila alone in my bedroom to keep my mind off the awkwardness and frustration, Nathan had seemed completely unaffected. Call me cruel, but I wanted to see him squirm a little.
“Hey, Nathan?” He looked up from his cereal bowl, and I smiled as innocently as I could. “Do you know if anyone would mind me sunbathing topless? Would the neighbors see?”
And here I thought his blush couldn’t get any deeper.
“Because,” I continued, holding the can of Diet Coke in one hand and tugging lightly at the cord that held my iPod around my neck with the other, “it’s just that the tan looks so much… smoother.”
Nathan took a deep breath in through his nose and let it out slowly before answering. “There’s a chance the people next door might get offended.”
“Oh.” I sighed. I could see Nathan’s eyes following the progress of my hand as I tucked my earbuds into my ears, letting my fingers slide across my neck just a little. “Fine. I guess I’ll just get tan lines. Thanks anyway, Nathan.”
“Yeah… no problem.”
With a smirk, I turned and walked out the sliding glass door.
As far as I could tell, there was no cute pool boy, which was kind of a bummer, but whatever. The look on Nathan’s face would have to last me for a while. I slid into a lounge chair, kicking up my bare feet and scrolling through my iPod. I was in the mood for some Madonna. Not her new stuff, but old-school Madonna. Back before the Kabbalah and the MTV make-out with Britney Spears. So I skimmed through my playlist until I found “Like a Prayer,” then closed my eyes, letting the sound and sun wash over me.
I lay there for a while, listening to a shuffled mix on my iPod. As a rule, I didn’t listen to anything released after 1999, so every song that came on was pretty awesome. Midway through the chorus of “Smells Like Teen Spirit,” I got the distinct impression that someone was watching me.
Wondering if maybe a cute boy really did live next door, I opened my eyes.
Gross.
Someone next door was watching me through the gaps in the fence, but he wasn’t cute, or remotely close to boyhood. This gray-haired old dude was totally ogling me. When he saw me glaring at him, he immediately went back to pulling the weeds in his pathetic little garden. I guess his wife refusedto do it. Good for her. If her man was eye-raping teenagers, he ought to be doing the hard labor. Pervert.
I got up and turned my chair around to face the other direction so the perv couldn’t look at me. Any enthusiasm I’d felt earlier for tanning was pretty much gone. Having
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