You’ve changed a lot,” I said, looking at her chest. I didn’t mean to do it. It just happened. She looked sad again.
“That doesn’t mean anything, Lupo. I hate it when boys stare at you like you’re a freak. I want someone to like me for who I am inside. You really don’t know anything about me, so don’t pretend you do.”
I was really sorry that I had looked at her chest just at that minute. I was feeling pretty good about being with her, but I knew it didn’t look that way. I figured she must have to put up with a lot of stupid remarks about her body. I decided to be honest with her.
“Alice, I didn’t mean to look at you that way. I mean, I really like looking at you, but that’s not all. I like talking to you, and I like being with you, even here. And it’s not true that I don’t know anything about you. I do. I know that you’re lonely, and that you don’t like your parents very much. Which is ok by me. I don’t like my parents very much either.“
Her face got red, but instead of saying something she just stood up and dove in and swam a pretty long way under water before coming up--all the way to the shallow end. Then she started swimming back towards me. She was a very good swimmer, very graceful, and it was nice to watch her. When she reached my end she just turned and swam away again. I figured she must still be mad, and decided to leave her alone. Anyhow, it was easier to watch her than talk to her.
After about five laps she stopped in front of me and treaded water. Her hair was plastered to her forehead and over her ears, and her eyes were bright green, the color of the water. She looked great. I tried not to stare, but I couldn’t help sneaking a peek at her boobs bobbing up and down.
“How did you know that?” she asked.
“Beats me,” I said. “It’s just that when I like a girl, I can tell a lot about her. I’m sorry if you’re mad.”
“I’m not mad! What you said is true. Sometimes I hate my parents. Hate them! They only care about themselves. And sometimes I am lonely. Especially here. I don’t have any friends here. It’s such a joke. My parents think everything’s terrific for me here. They think I’ve got friends here and that maybe I’ll finally stop bothering them with my sad face. My mother always says to me, ‘Alice, stop being so sad, your father doesn’t like it.’ And you know about my father! I was so embarrassed in the car. He’s always like that. He thinks he’s got to be so reserved! It makes me crazy!”
The angrier she got telling me this, the harder it was for her to stay afloat. I didn’t want her to drown right in front of me, so I held my hand out to her.
“Why don’t you grab hold and come up before you get waterlogged,” I told her. She was still angry, but she took my hand and pulled herself up. She
10