This wasn’t normal.
Then again, I wasn’t a very normal person, so what did I expect?
I glared at my reflection in the small mirror above the bathroom sink and let out a disappointed groan. If I were a normal girl, I would’ve had the guts to trot outside, place my hands on my hips, and send Blake Hamilton the flirtiest smile he’d ever seen in his life. But I wasn’t that brazen, and I’m pretty sure if I had tried to smile, I’d only end up baring my teeth at him like a wild animal. So, like the coward I was, I had locked myself in the girl’s bathroom of the Holden Public Pool and refused to come outside, even though I had already peed twice, washed my hands three times, and changed into my brand new bikini.
I was running out of ways to delay the inevitable.
Sooner or later, I was going to have to face Blake. And I was going to have to do it dressed in nothing but a teeny, tiny, navy blue and white striped bikini. I glanced back at my reflection in the mirror, my eyes dropping to my chest. Okay, so my boobs weren’t unnoticeably small or inconveniently large. But, I swear to God, the left one was bigger than the right one.
Why would Blake Hamilton want to look at a lopsided freak like me?
I groaned and hung my head, staring down at the pile of my clothes beside my feet. I had already thought over the possibility of crafting a secret escape. But the girls’ bathroom didn’t have a window for me to jump out of or a reasonably sized air vent for me to climb into, so it looked like I was stuck.
I felt my stomach flop over as I heard Blake Hamilton bellow out my name from somewhere beyond the other side of the door. He was probably out by the pool already, dressed in swim trunks and his pair of Ray Bans.
“What?” I shouted back.
“Hurry up already!” Blake sounded impatient.
I gulped and knelt down, snatching up my baggy tee shirt and shorts. Then I turned towards the door, giving myself a mental pep talk in my head as I reached for the handle. It was time for me to man up. So, puffing out my lopsided chest, I pushed open the bathroom door and started marching right towards the two sets of glass doors at the back of the pool house.
I managed to keep my head held high as I stepped out onto the patio, the blazing Florida sunshine immediately searing my fragile skin.
Blake was standing beside the Olympic sized pool, his broad, bare back turned to me as he placed his belongings on one of the poolside recliners. He was wearing a pair of navy blue swim trunks with a white waistband. My heart did a little stutter-step as I realized that we were matching.
Had he planned that or something?
No, of course not.
I noticed the red Styrofoam board lying at his feet and tried to remember what he had told me it was. A kickboard, I think. To be honest, all I could remember was that he had mocked me for being the oldest kid he’d ever given lessons to.
Suddenly feeling very self-conscious now that I was out in broad daylight, I sucked in a deep breath and scurried across the patio as silently as a ninja. Maybe, if I kept very quiet, Blake wouldn’t even notice me. I could drop my things and hop into the pool before he caught sight of me in the bikini I was quickly beginning to regret buying.
But, as they almost always do, my plan failed.
I hadn’t even taken three steps across the patio when Blake whipped around. Okay, so I’m no James Bond, but I didn’t think I had made that much noise. I froze as Blake’s sharp blue eyes, which seemed a little greenish in the light reflecting off of the pool, landed on me.
He saw me.
Wait, that was a little extreme.
I just need to play it cool. That always worked on television shows when the main character got caught in the middle of some shenanigans.
“H-hey, um… Blake,” I choked out, tentatively placing one hand on my hip and trying to look casual. My other hand tightened in a death grip around my baggy tee shirt and shorts, which I now desperately wished were on my body rather than at my side. Was it just me, or had I started sweating like crazy?
Yeah. I was practically the definition of playing it cool.