Fifteenth Summer - By Michelle Dalton Page 0,58
again at the bedroom door as I got to my feet. “You’re so gross.”
“Maybe,” she said. “But I also know what I’m talking about.”
I laughed as I checked myself in the mirror. I’d worn my hair half-down as a concession to Josh, with only the front sections pulled back into a big tortoiseshell clip. But there was nothing I could do about my freckles, other than smear them with tons of sunscreen and hope no more popped out after my day in the sun. I grabbed my bag, blew my sister a kiss, and met Josh out front.
By the time we arrived at Wex Pond, which was about a two-mile walk from Sparrow Road, we were both hot and sweaty.
Josh led me to the end of one of the rickety, rocking docks. There, bouncing against the timbers, was a shabby once-white rowboat that looked barely big enough for the two of us. The interior of the boat was blackened with dirt and a little puddle of water. There was one seat in the center that hardly looked big enough for two backsides.
“Isn’t it great?” Josh said, jumping easily into the boat and holding out his hands so I could hand him the oars and our bags.
“Um, do you want an honest answer?” I said as I shuffled my feet out of their flip-flops.
“Of course not,” Josh said with a smile. He got a sly look in his eyes as he pulled a nylon picnic blanket out of his bag. He spread it out on the bottom of the boat. Then he produced a little pillow and tucked it into the back of the boat (or maybe it was the front, I couldn’t quite tell).
“I was lying about you having to row,” Josh said. “You get to sit there while I row you around. You can pretend you’re Daisy Buchanan.”
My mouth dropped open. “Seriously?”
“Well, you like playing Gatsby, don’t you?” Josh held out a hand to help me climb into the boat. “And, conveniently, my English class read that book this year. If I get tired of rowing, I’ll peel you a grape.”
I burst out laughing.
“I’m not that much of a princess, you know,” I said. “I’m a waitress! And I’m pretty good with a garden rake.”
“All the more reason you deserve to relax,” Josh said. “If you want something to do, think of another installment for Diablo and the Mels. The same bit’s been on the specials board for the past three days.”
“No pressure or anything,” I said as I sank into the little waterproof nest he’d made me. “Besides, it’s a good bit, right? ‘B. smites that low tipper.’ I should leave it up longer as a cautionary tale.”
Josh laughed, which made me smile—it always did. And he was right. Even though I could feel the cold of the puddle beneath the blanket, and it smelled kind of moldy down there, lounging while he rowed me around the pond did make me feel kind of like a princess.
My perch also gave me a great view of Josh’s arms flexing as he leaned forward and back, pulling at the oars.
“Do you need me to be your coxswain,” I said. I imitated Tori’s cute, squeaky voice and pointed. “A little to the right, Joshie.”
“Har-har,” Josh said, a little out of breath with the rowing. “By the way, you don’t say ‘right’; you say ‘starboard.’ ”
“Oh,” I said. I watched him take a few more pulls on the oars.
“What do you like about rowing?” I asked.
Josh cocked his head to think for a moment.
“I like the efficiency of it,” he said. “One stroke can take you a whole boat-length down the river. And I like how a whole row of guys can all be communicating with each other, matching each other’s rhythm, putting extra muscle into it, sprinting for the win, all without saying a word.”
I nodded slowly, imagining the steady, strong back-and-forth motion of a queue of boys, all with shaggy hair fluttering in the breeze, save one.
That communication without words but through breath and rhythm and some sort of telepathy . . . it fascinated me.
Sometimes I felt that Josh and I had that kind of silent way of speaking to each other, with our eyes and our gestures.
And of course with kissing.
Everything seemed to make me think about kissing lately. But I didn’t want Josh to know that (even though I had a feeling that he felt much the same way). So I grabbed my bag and rooted around