We're at the cottage again. Em and I stuff our faces with watermelon, skip stones, and then spend hours playing soccer with my cousins. Afterwards, we're so smelly and sweaty my mom says that if I come within a ten mile radius of her, she's disowning me as her child. Emery and I laugh and race each other to the shower, a cramped cubicle in the sole, shared bathroom.
Rich walks in on us showering.
"Dude!" I exclaim. "What the fuck, man?!"
Emery immediately scrambles to hide behind me and I grab his waist so he doesn't slip on the wet shower floor. "Get the fuck out."
Richie's eyes are wide, frantic and contrite.
"I'm so so-"
"Get the fuck out, you sick fucking perv, before I beat your ass - and I will!"
"Why're you so mad?" Emery tries desperately to console me after he's fled.
"The fucking perv was just standing there! Who knows how long?!" I spit in disgust.
"Point five seconds; I know, because I was facing the door."
"So he was gawking at my ass?! Dude! Why didn't you say something?!"
Emery rolls his eyes.
"Half the female population in this school has seen your ass, Brandon. May as well make it the male one too," he scowls. "Besides. We shower together and that doesn't bother you-"
"Because I fucking changed your underwear when you peed them in kindergarten! We're fucking different! Fuck!"