Sunday Billy Sunday by Mark Wheaton Page A

Leilani’s bikini-clad ass whenever it came into view. “Where would she be?”
    “Dunno,” said Phil, but then got an idea. “The Rocks?”
    “Ah, yeah. You’re probably right.”
    Though the grounds around Lake Carlisle were fairly woodsy and flat, there were some areas of gradation including a short Cliffside dubbed The Rocks, which rose high over a particularly deep part of the lake. The water directly below The Rocks was deep enough to allow diving, for the most part, but the counselors frowned on it as there was no telling what kind of underwater obstacles might have made their way into the lake and secreted themselves in the murky water below the cliff during the storms and bad weather of the just-previous winter. Of course, this kept no one from trying their hand at cliff-diving, just most let a few of the bravest souls go first to test it out each new year.
    Phil and Mark made the quick, five hundred yard trek to The Rocks, shadowing the lake from just within the dense thicket, filled with tall pines, blackjack oaks and red cedars. The trail was pretty sandy as long as there were trees, but then it began filling with rocks, building up towards the craggy outcropping known as the Rocks, which blocked the trail and could only be circumnavigating by swimming around it in the lake or hiking a good ways deeper into the woods. Most simply climbed up and over them as this seemed to be the shortest route around the boulder pile, but it resulted in a great number of skinned shins and palms.
    “Dammit!” cried Phil, slipping off a particularly large chunk of granite and bashing his knee into a tree branch laying on the trail. He made the mistake of looking to Mark for sympathy; Mark who was overall slightly more athletic and agile.
    “Piece of cake,” Mark exclaimed, making a point of bouncing up the rest of the short rocky path to the summit. Phil kept hoping his friend would miss at least one step, but sure enough, Mark was able to negotiate his way to the top like a mountain goat and swiftly disappeared from sight.
    When Phil joined Mark atop The Rocks a few minutes later, any residual pain from the climb fell away as he found his hypothesis proven out as not only were Faith and Maia there, they were both reading books and it appeared that they’d been there for some time. Maia had her shirt off, revealing a distinctly unrevealing bikini top and Mark, squatting next to the two girls, kept stealing glances at her bare, chestnut skin.
    Faith squinted up at Phil as he crested the boulders and smiled. “Hey, Phil.”
    “Hey. Guess I was wrong about having The Rocks to ourselves today.”
    “Guess so, but we won’t kick you out,” Faith said this last part with a taunting grin, which Phil seemed to feel was an invitation to sit, so he did.
    “What are you reading?” he asked. Faith showed him and he nodded. “Wow. I probably checked those out just before you. Really cool stuff.”
    “Did you read all four?” she asked, duly impressed.
    Phil nodded and was about to offer his critical assessment when he was interrupted by Mark.
    “Yeah, for weeks every time I’d go to his house, he’d be there in his mom’s hammock in the backyard, like he was reading the phone book or something,” Mark said. “Could barely tear him away.”
    Phil grimaced, but liked that Mark gave him and Faith something to mutually eye-roll about.
    From out of nowhere, they suddenly heard screaming echoing up from the direction of the camp and they all quickly looked over only to see that the football game had devolved into some sort of water rugby-cum-wrestling match with the boys throwing each other into the sandy water before going after the girls. The scream had come as one of the boys had gone after Becca Roy, one of the smallest girls on the cheerleading squad, and had raised her all the way over his head before throwing her back into the water. That by itself didn’t elicit the scream, however; it was the fact that her bikini