spreading out her towel. âIâm not lying here. Iâll fry,â she says.
âJust for twenty minutes. Then weâll find some shade.â
âNo,â barks Joely, suddenly cross. Just because Frankie has olive skin, doesnât mean she shouldnât understand what happens if Joely lies in the direct sun for more than ten seconds.
âOkay then,â says Frankie as she lies on her stomach. Perching on her elbows, she watches four teenage boys wrestling with a large blow-up tube, trying to dump each other in the deep end. She smiles at the sight, liking their bodies, and wonders how old they are.
âIf you can find somewhere better Iâll move,â says Frankie. But Joely sits on her towel just close enough to be with her, but far enough away to make a point. She watches Joely cover herself in as much sunscreen as skin can actually take, and hopes that Joely wonât sulk for the rest of the afternoon.
One of the boys flips over the tube in the pool. The others get dumped and come up yelling. Frankie turns to see if Joely has noticed. But her friend is hiding under a huge hat and is reading some daggy book she must have borrowed from Jill. It looks like a bad middle-aged romance.
âI actually like spas,â says Frankie, but Joely pretends not to hear. âSpas are much better than pools. Besides it looks super deep and super cold and thatâs really all that matters,â says Frankie loudly.
Joely looks over her book and raises an eyebrow reminding Frankie of someoneâs grandmother.
âIn fact, it looks so inviting that Iâm going in,â says Frankie.
Joely watches Frankie stand, drop her t-shirt and short skirt on the towel and walk cat-like in her red bikini to the edge of the pool. The boys turn on their rubber tube, sensing her presence behind them. She expects them to say something, but instead they just stare, like sheâs something theyâve been waiting for all day.
Frankie steps up, balancing on the concrete edge. Everything becomes still. The whole pool is waiting, wondering what this girl with the long hair and the red bikini is going to do next. Then, surprising even Joely, Frankie spins round and salutes her. Itâs such an odd gesture, so out of character for Frankie, that itâs like sheâs leaving Joely forever. Then she dives perfectly into the pool, the water splashing as she disappears.
Joely jumps to her feet and waits for Frankie to come up. Maybe Joely was wrong about how deep it was and Frankie has split her head open on the bottom. The boys crane up on their rubber tube, kneeling like a pack of expectant children, wondering what has happened to their entertainment. Mothers gather up dripping toddlers and clutch them to their hips, ignoring pleas and wild cries. And Joely stares at the place she last saw her friend.
Seconds pass. A crow circles, surveying the scene.
Suddenly, Frankie shoots out of the water at the other end of the pool. She must have swum all the way along the bottom like a stingray. Joely hears her laughing. Thereâs no acknowledgement of her audience. She just raises her arms and dives under again like sheâs finally come home.
People on the grass start moving again. Toddlers are released back into the shallow end. The boys return to wrestling each other off the tube, turning away from the strange girl who briefly interrupted their session like a shark. Frankieâs laugh can be heard, punctuating each plunge into the pool.
Joely sits on her towel and picks up her book. She tries to read but canât. She pretends itâs the sun, the heat, the book. But her friend has distracted her and now she canât concentrate. She stands up and walks over to the pool with her hat and dress and thongs on. She bends down to touch the water, and itâs so cold she wishes she could fall in and swim with Frankie up and down the pool, chasing the deep together. She almost does. But she
âJust for twenty minutes. Then weâll find some shade.â
âNo,â barks Joely, suddenly cross. Just because Frankie has olive skin, doesnât mean she shouldnât understand what happens if Joely lies in the direct sun for more than ten seconds.
âOkay then,â says Frankie as she lies on her stomach. Perching on her elbows, she watches four teenage boys wrestling with a large blow-up tube, trying to dump each other in the deep end. She smiles at the sight, liking their bodies, and wonders how old they are.
âIf you can find somewhere better Iâll move,â says Frankie. But Joely sits on her towel just close enough to be with her, but far enough away to make a point. She watches Joely cover herself in as much sunscreen as skin can actually take, and hopes that Joely wonât sulk for the rest of the afternoon.
One of the boys flips over the tube in the pool. The others get dumped and come up yelling. Frankie turns to see if Joely has noticed. But her friend is hiding under a huge hat and is reading some daggy book she must have borrowed from Jill. It looks like a bad middle-aged romance.
âI actually like spas,â says Frankie, but Joely pretends not to hear. âSpas are much better than pools. Besides it looks super deep and super cold and thatâs really all that matters,â says Frankie loudly.
Joely looks over her book and raises an eyebrow reminding Frankie of someoneâs grandmother.
âIn fact, it looks so inviting that Iâm going in,â says Frankie.
Joely watches Frankie stand, drop her t-shirt and short skirt on the towel and walk cat-like in her red bikini to the edge of the pool. The boys turn on their rubber tube, sensing her presence behind them. She expects them to say something, but instead they just stare, like sheâs something theyâve been waiting for all day.
Frankie steps up, balancing on the concrete edge. Everything becomes still. The whole pool is waiting, wondering what this girl with the long hair and the red bikini is going to do next. Then, surprising even Joely, Frankie spins round and salutes her. Itâs such an odd gesture, so out of character for Frankie, that itâs like sheâs leaving Joely forever. Then she dives perfectly into the pool, the water splashing as she disappears.
Joely jumps to her feet and waits for Frankie to come up. Maybe Joely was wrong about how deep it was and Frankie has split her head open on the bottom. The boys crane up on their rubber tube, kneeling like a pack of expectant children, wondering what has happened to their entertainment. Mothers gather up dripping toddlers and clutch them to their hips, ignoring pleas and wild cries. And Joely stares at the place she last saw her friend.
Seconds pass. A crow circles, surveying the scene.
Suddenly, Frankie shoots out of the water at the other end of the pool. She must have swum all the way along the bottom like a stingray. Joely hears her laughing. Thereâs no acknowledgement of her audience. She just raises her arms and dives under again like sheâs finally come home.
People on the grass start moving again. Toddlers are released back into the shallow end. The boys return to wrestling each other off the tube, turning away from the strange girl who briefly interrupted their session like a shark. Frankieâs laugh can be heard, punctuating each plunge into the pool.
Joely sits on her towel and picks up her book. She tries to read but canât. She pretends itâs the sun, the heat, the book. But her friend has distracted her and now she canât concentrate. She stands up and walks over to the pool with her hat and dress and thongs on. She bends down to touch the water, and itâs so cold she wishes she could fall in and swim with Frankie up and down the pool, chasing the deep together. She almost does. But she
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