Steven would throw a towel over my head, and I would feel ten years old again instead of thirteen. "But why?"
"I like to do laps in the pool," I said. Which was true. I did.
She shrugged. "Okay, but don't blame me when the guys don't talk to you."
I shrugged right back at her. "I don't care if they talk to me or not, I don't think of them that way."
"Yeah, right! You've been, like, obsessed with Conrad for as long as I've known you! You wouldn't even talk to any of the guys at school last year."
"Taylor, that was a really long time ago. They're like brothers to me, just like Steven," I said, pulling on a pair of gym shorts. "Talk to them all you want."
The truth was, I liked both of them in different ways and I didn't want her to know, because whichever guy she picked would feel like a leftover. And it wasn't like it would sway Taylor. She was going for Conrad either way. I wanted to tell her, Anyone but Conrad, but it wouldn't be true, not completely. I would be jealous if she picked Jeremiah, too, because he was my friend, not hers.
It took Taylor forever to pick out a pair of sunglasses that matched her bikini (she'd brought four pairs), plus two magazines and her suntan oil. By the time we got outside, the boys were already in the pool.
I threw my clothes off right away, ready to jump in, but Taylor hesitated, her Polo towel tight around her shoulders. I could tell she was suddenly nervous about her itsy-bitsy bikini, and I was glad. I was getting a little bit sick of her showing off.
The boys didn't even look over. I had been worried that with Taylor there they might not want to do all the usual stuff, that they might act differently. But there they were, dunking one another for all it was worth.
Kicking off my flip-flops, I said, "Let's get in the pool."
"I might lay out for a little bit first," Taylor said. She finally dropped her towel and spread it out on a lounge chair. "Don't you want to lay out too?"
"No. It's hot and I want to swim. Besides, I'm already tan." And I was. I was turning the color of dark toffee. I looked like a whole different person in the summer, which might have been the best part of it.
Taylor on the other hand was pasty and bright like biscuit dough. I had a feeling she'd catch up with me fast, though. She was good at that.
I took off my glasses and set them on top of my clothes. Then I walked over to the deep end and jumped right in. The water felt like a shock to the system, in the best way possible. When I came up for air, I treaded water over to the boys. "Let's play Marco Polo," I said.
Steven, who was busy trying to dunk Conrad, stopped and said, "Marco Polo's boring."
"Let's play chicken," Jeremiah suggested.
"What's that?" I said.
"It's when two teams of people climb up on each other's shoulders and you try to push the other person down," my brother explained.
"It's fun, I swear," Jeremiah assured me. Then he called over to Taylor, "Tyler, you wanna play chicken with us? Or are you too chicken?"
Taylor looked up from her magazine. I couldn't see her eyes because of her sunglasses, but I knew she was annoyed. "It's Tay-lor, not Tyler, Jeremy. And no, I don't want to play."
Steven and Conrad exchanged a look. I knew what they were thinking. "Come on, Taylor, it'll be fun," I said, rolling my eyes. "Don't be a chicken."
She made a big show of sighing, and then she put her magazine down and stood up, smoothing down her bikini in the back. "Do I have to take my sunglasses off?"
Jeremiah grinned at her. "Not if you're on my team. You won't be falling off."
Taylor took them off anyway, and I realized then that the teams were uneven, and someone would have to sit out. "I'll watch," I offered, even though I wanted to play.
"That's okay. I won't play," Conrad said.
"We'll play two rounds," said Steven.
Conrad shrugged. "That's all right." He swam over to the side of the pool.
"I call Tay-lor," Jeremiah announced.
"No fair; she's lighter," Steven argued. Then he looked over and saw the expression on my face. "It's just that you're taller than her is all."
I didn't want to play anymore. "Why don't I just sit out, then? I'd hate to break your back, Steven."
Jeremiah said, "Aw, I'll take you, Belly. We'll take those guys down. I think you're probably a lot tougher than little Tay-lor."
Taylor walked down the steps and into the pool slowly, cringing at the temperature. "I'm very tough, Jeremy," she said.
Then Jeremiah crouched down in the water, and I scrambled to get onto his shoulders. He was slippery, so it was hard to stay on at first. Then he stood up and righted himself.
I shifted and balanced my hands on his head. "Am I too heavy?" I asked him quietly. He was so wiry and thin, I was afraid I'd break him.
"You weigh, like, nothing," he lied, breathing hard and gripping on to my legs.
I wanted to kiss the top of his head right then.
Across from us Taylor was perched on top of Steven's shoulders giggling and pulling his hair to hold herself steady. Steven looked like he was ready to pitch her off of him and across the pool.
"Ready? "Jeremiah asked. In a low voice he said to me, "The trick is to just keep steady."
Steven nodded, and we waddled over to the middle of the pool.