Page 34 of Then Came the Fall
Nobody wants to date a girl whose family has no money.
At camp, it was different. The only person who knew about my family was Matt—and Lisa, a little, from a few years ago when wewere closer. Here, I could forget all that and just be myself: silly, funny, sarcastic, and even maybe a little flirty.
That summer, Matt let his hair grow out into a long, shaggy, Joe-Jonas-esque situation, and he was taller than me by a good four inches. His arms and legs looked lanky, probably due to the myriad sports he played during the year. He had a farmer’s tan from spending the past few weeks in the sun every day with a T-shirt on. But his braces had come off that year, and his teeth were straight and white, giving him a perfect smile. His jawline was becoming more defined as much of the baby fat had recently melted off his face, leaving behind a lone dimple in his left cheek. His brooding eyebrows made his blue eyes pop.
Girls noticed. Lots of girls. So many girls that I caught myself feeling jealous on more than one occasion. But if Matt was aware of the attention, he played it off well, behaving as if I was the only girl on his radar.
“So, what do you think? Want to swim first? Or go look for beach glass?”
I crunched on a chip, thinking.I don’t really want to get all sandy and sticky after coming out of the water, but it is hot.“I don’t know. Whatever you want.”
“Swimming it is, then. C’mon, piglet. Put the chips away.” He laughed. I rolled my eyes, popped a final chip into my mouth and pushed the lid down on the canister. He reached for my hand and pulled me up from the towel. We approached the pair of lifeguards with the Buddy Board, a running list of names and numbers. Every 15 minutes, the guards would blow two long whistles and shout, “Buddy up!” Then, they’d count off all the pairs until everyone who had checked in to swim was accounted for.
The guard wrote the number 26 on our hands in black Sharpie. “Have fun,” he said.
“Race ya,” Matt challenged me, and sprinted into the water. Three splashy leaps were followed by a sloppy head-first dive.
“You win!” I called out as his head emerged from under the surface.
“Stay with your buddy!” I heard the guard on the stand call out.
I waded into the water gingerly, rocks stabbing the balls of my feet. The water was cool and refreshing. I lurched forward into a front crawl and caught up to Matt.
Treading water, I smacked him on the bicep. “We’re supposed to stay together, jerk!”
“Then you need to work on keeping up, Roberts. Not my fault you’re slow.” He grinned.
“I hate you,” I retorted with a smile.
“Wrong. You love me,” he said, looking me dead in the face. Despite the heat of the day, a chill rushed through my body.
This was how we were that summer.
“Follow me. There’s a sandbar this way.” He took me by the hand and pulled me a bit farther out towards the horizon. He dragged his toes along the bottom until he found the soft cushion of sand. The current raced from his body into mine like a lightning bolt through a conduit of skin. “Ahh. Here it is.” He relaxed his grip on my hand and rested his feet. “You can stand here.”
I placed my feet down on the sandbar, the water up to my shoulders.
“Yo, Thompson!” Ryan Powell called out, swimming towards us. Ryan was one of the rich jocks from Garden City who was slumming it by spending his summer at camp instead of at his family’s compound on Martha’s Vineyard, a fact he shared all too often with anyone who would listen. No one could stand the kid’s abrasive personality, buteven I had to admit he was good looking, which explained why the girls in my cabin gave him more than just the time of day. Following Ryan was Lily Graham, who was by far the prettiest girl in my age group, and trailing them were Corn Chip and Lisa, the summer’s newest couple. Lisa had developedbigboobs during the school year; I had no idea how she got so lucky. The four of them met us on the sandbar. I crossed my arms over my chest.
“What’s up?” Matt answered.
“Truth or dare,” Ryan began.
“Um, no,” Matt countered.
“Come on! We’re all playing. We needed one more couple,” he explained.
Matt looked at me. “We’re just friends,” he clarified.
“Yeah, we’re not a couple,” I confirmed. I felt myself blushing, though in the sun, I hoped no one would be able to tell.
“Yeah, right,” Lisa rolled her eyes. We were back to being friends this summer—sort of. At the very least, we were operating under an unspoken truce. Lily was admiring her self-manicured nails, and Corn Chip just stood there.
“Makes no difference. You guys are perfect,” Ryan decided. The group rearranged itself into a small circle. “And, because you were the first ones in the water, you get to go first. Truth or dare,” Ryan challenged Matt.
“Truth, I guess.” I could sense his discomfort.
“Is it true that your girlfriend’s broke?”
