“Uh, no,” I replied, watching the hurt flicker in his eyes. I felt self-conscious wearing it around Delilah, but I couldn’t say that right now. “I still have it, though. It’s in my jewelry box at home.”
“You’re cold, Pers. Sam never takes his off!” Charlie cut in, and the chatter that had been swirling around us stopped. “He freaked when Mom wanted to wash it. Thought it would get ruined in the washing machine.”
“It would have,” Sam said flatly, streaks of crimson painting his cheeks.
“We hand washed it, and it was fine,” Sue said, either not picking up on the tension between the two boys or ignoring it altogether. She went back to chatting with my parents.
“Jerk,” Sam mumbled under his breath, looking down at his plate.
I leaned in closer and whispered, “I’ll wear it next time. I promise.”
* * *
MOM AND DAD let me invite Delilah to the cottage for the first week of the summer. On the last day of June, the four of us rode up in my parents’ new overstuffed SUV. My knees were bouncing with anticipation by the time we turned down Bare Rock Lane, and there was a huge, stupid smile across my face. The cottage needed more work before we visited in winter, so I hadn’t seen Sam since Thanksgiving, seven months ago.
“What’s with you?” Delilah whispered across a stack of luggage. “You look deranged.”
I had sent Sam an IM with our estimated time of arrival the night before we left, another when we were packing the car, and another just before we pulled out of the driveway. He hated IMs and responded to precisely none of them. Still, I knew he’d be waiting for us when we arrived. But I wasn’t prepared to see two very tall figures standing outside the cottage.
“Is that them?” Delilah hissed, pulling a tube of lip gloss out of her pocket.
“Yeah?” I said, not totally believing it. Sam was tall. Like really tall.
I was out the door before Dad shut off the engine, and flung myself at him, stretching my arms around his slim torso. His wiry arms came around me, and I could feel him shake with laughter.
I pulled back with a big smile.
“Hi, Percy,” he said, his eyebrows raised high under his uncombed hair. I paused at the sound of his voice. It was different. It was deep. I quickly pushed aside my shock and grabbed his arm.
“Update one,” I said, holding my wrist next to his, lining up our bracelets side by side. “Haven’t taken it off since after Thanksgiving,” I added.
We grinned at each other like lunatics.
“This way we’ll have something to swear on,” I said.
“Thank god. It was my number one concern.” Sarcasm oozed from Sam’s words like caramel from a chocolate egg. He was pleased.
“Hey, Pers,” Charlie said from over Sam’s shoulder, then called to my parents, “Mr. and Mrs. Fraser, Mom sent us over to help unload.”
“Appreciate it, Charlie,” Dad hollered, his head in the trunk of the SUV. “But drop the Mr. and Mrs. thing, okay?”
“I’m Delilah,” said a voice behind me. Whoops. I had completely forgotten my friend. A small part of me—okay, fine, a rather large chunk—didn’t want to introduce Delilah to Sam. She was so much cuter than me, and her boobs had gotten huge this year while I remained flat chested. I knew it wasn’t like that between Sam and me, but I didn’t want it to be like that between them, either.
“Sorry, I’m being totally rude,” I apologized. “Sam, this is Delilah. Delilah, Sam.” They exchanged hellos, though his was noticeably cold.
Sam had replied with exactly three words when I emailed him about my rekindled friendship with Delilah: Are you sure? I was, but evidently, Sam was not.
“You must be Charlie,” Delilah called out, homing in on him like a fox on a baby chick.
“Yeah, hey,” Charlie said as he walked by carrying a box of groceries, paying her zero attention. Unruffled, she turned back to Sam, her big blue eyes twinkling. She was wearing the tiniest pair of coral shorts and a skintight yellow tube top that showed off her boobs and stomach.
“Percy didn’t mention how cute you are,” she said, lavishing upon him one of her signature beaming smiles, all glossy pink lips and fluttering lashes.
Sam’s face scrunched up and his eyes darted to mine.
“Sorry,” I mouthed, then grabbed Delilah’s arm and pulled her toward the car as she giggled.
“Can you come over later?” Sam asked after we finished unloading. “I’ve got something I want to show you. It’s updates one, two, and three.” The way he spoke, like Delilah wasn’t there, filled my chest with helium.
“You haven’t told her about the boat yet?” Charlie asked. Sam rubbed his face and pushed his hair off his forehead in one movement of controlled agitation.
“No, it was going to be a surprise.”
“Shit, sorry, man,” Charlie said, and to his credit, he sounded like he meant it.
“Well, fill us in,” Delilah piped up, her hands on the racetrack curves of her hips.
“We fixed up Dad’s old boat,” said Sam in a baritone of pride. His voice would take some getting used to.
“And he means old,” Charlie added.
“It used to be our granddad’s, and Dad fixed it up and kept it going until . . .” Sam’s sentence hung there.
“It’s just been sitting in the garage,” Charlie cut in. “Mom always promised I could use it once I turned sixteen, but it needed a bunch of work. Granddad helped repair it this spring when they got back from Florida. Even got this guy helping out.” Charlie bumped Sam with his elbow.
“You’ve got to see it, Percy,” said Sam with a crooked smile. “It’s classic.”
Delilah tossed her hair behind a pale shoulder. “We’d love to.”
* * *
“OHMYGOD, PERCY!” DELILAH squealed as soon as we took our suitcases up to my bedroom. “Why did you not tell me how hot Charlie is? I would have worn something way cuter than this!”
I laughed. Delilah had become seriously boy crazy over the past year.
“Sam’s not as good-looking, but he’s cute, too,” she said, staring up at the ceiling as though in careful thought. “I bet he’ll be just as hot when he gets older.” The taste of jealousy was bitter on my tongue. I didn’t want her thinking Sam was cute. I didn’t want her thinking about Sam at all.
“He’s okay, I guess.” I shrugged.
“Let’s pick our outfits for when we go over this afternoon!” She was already opening her suitcase.
“It’s just Sam and Charlie. Trust me, they don’t care how we’re dressed,” I said, but now I wasn’t entirely sure that was true. She looked at me skeptically. “I’ll be wearing my bathing suit and my shorts if it makes any difference to you,” I added.
We changed into our swimsuits after unpacking our things. Delilah put on a black string bikini, impossibly held together with flimsy ties, and wiggled into a pair of fresh white denim cutoffs so short the smile of her ass cheeks grinned out the bottom.
“What do you think?” She turned around, and I tried not to stare at her chest, but it was kind of impossible, considering the ratio of breast to bathing suit.
“You look insane,” I said. “Good insane.” I meant it, but the acid burn of envy was spreading down my throat. Mom refused to let me wear a string bikini, but she had allowed a two-piece—neon orange with wide buckled straps on the top. I thought it was cool at the store, but now I felt childish, and my jean shorts seemed entirely too full bottomed.
We padded down the stairs to the lake. The sky was clear and the water was blue-blue, rippling from a breeze coming from the southeast.
There was a bright yellow motorboat at the Floreks’ dock, and the tops of Charlie’s and Sam’s heads were visible as they poked around inside.
“Nice boat!” I yelled, and they sprung up like meerkats, both shirtless and bronzed. The perks of living by the lake.
“I can see Charlie’s muscles from here,” Delilah shrieked.
I shushed her. “Sound carries easily on the water.” But she was right. Charlie had filled out, and there was more definition to his arms, chest, and shoulders.
“Wanna come see?” Sam yelled back.
“Do we ever,” Delilah purred, and I elbowed her and raised my hand in a thumbs-up.