Wild Swans - Jessica Spotswood Page 0,9
person. She’s your mom. Of course you want her to like you. I just think you need to, like, manage your expectations.”
“So I shouldn’t have booked that mother-daughter spa day?” I raise my eyebrows. “Trust me, my expectations are set low. Way low. I mean, she never even sent me a birthday card.” My voice drops to a whisper, and I cover my face with my hand. “What did I do to make her hate me so much?”
Alex yanks on my elbow, hauling my hand away from my face. Traitorous tears are gathering in my eyes. “You didn’t do anything. You were just a baby. Whatever her deal is, it’s with the Professor, not you. You know how he can be.”
I pull away. I do know how he can be. The weight of his expectations is heavy, but that is no excuse for running out on your family. “Don’t you make excuses for her. Granddad—he’s a good person. A good father.”
Alex puts his hands up. “Hey, you don’t have to convince me. He’s the closest thing I’ve ever had to a dad.”
Alex’s father died in a car accident a few weeks before Erica left town. Marco and Luisa had just moved from Texas. Marco had gotten a job as an associate professor of math at the college. Once he got tenure and Alex got old enough for preschool, Luisa was going to open up her own bakery. Instead, her husband died, she became our housekeeper, and she and Alex moved into the carriage house. They’ve been there ever since.
I can’t imagine how lonely life would be without them.
“I’m just saying, the Professor can be a little intense.” Alex stands and stretches, cracking his neck in the way that always makes me cringe. “Hey, when’s the last time you went for a swim?”
“I don’t know. It’s been raining all week. Tuesday?”
“No wonder you’re in a mood.” He grabs a slim collection of Langston Hughes poetry from my nightstand and fans himself with it. I may or may not have been looking up Connor’s tattoos. “Your gills are gonna grow shut.”
“My gills?” I laugh despite myself.
“Professor always says you’re part fish. Come on. What’s that saying? Nothing salt water can’t cure? Besides, we stay up here much longer, I’m gonna melt.”
I check my phone. “They’ll be here in an hour.”
“Still time for a swim. Come on. Race me ’cross the channel and back?” Alex winks. “I’ll let you win.”
I jump up. “The hell you will.”
He’s already on the steps. “That a yes?”
“When was the last time you beat me?” I rummage through my dresser for my swimsuit.
He pokes his nose between the slats in the railing. “Last week at Scrabble. And week before that, I beat you and Ma and the Professor at croquet.”
“Scrabble was only ’cause you cheated and looked up Z words on your phone,” I remind him. “That doesn’t count. And I meant swimming.”
“It’s been a while. I feel like today’s the day though. Seeing how you’re all sad and shit. Might make you slow.” He grins at me. I’ve never been able to back down from a challenge, especially one issued with Alex’s cocky smile. That’s how I sprained my ankle jumping off the sunroom roof into a snowdrift when we were ten.
Mostly it turns out okay though.
“Get out of here so I can change.” I grab a pillow and throw it at him. It misses because I have terrible aim, and he laughs and clatters down the stairs. That boy knows me too damn well.
Right now I’m grateful for it.
I change into my swimsuit: a red one-piece with skinny straps and high-cut legs. It’s retro cute but sturdy. Claire and Abby keep telling me I ought to buy a bikini. Claire’s got a black one that makes just about every boy in town drool, and Abby’s got one with a pink-and-green bandeau top that’s so barely there I get nervous for her every time she jumps off the dock. And she’s got a lot less up top than I do. Anyway, I keep telling them there is no point in having a swimsuit that I can’t actually swim in.
I’m not fat. But it’s hard to remember that when I stand next to my friends. Claire’s tall like me, but she’s got that classic hourglass figure—big boobs, tiny waist, curvy hips. And Abby’s five foot nothing and petite, the kind of girl that boys scoop up and toss in the pool. I’m—solid. With strong shoulders and thighs from