Most of the lifeguards are straight, though. Even Janice Uncas, with her long lavender curls and lip ring, and who’s only a year older than us, so it’s totally okay, as Ashleigh has pointed out. Last summer, Ashleigh grew really close with her. Not sexy close, but close enough she fell a little in love. And a little in love with a straight girl, near as I can tell, meant a lot of pain all summer.
“It’s okay,” I tell Ashleigh. “She’s your friend. You’re over her, right?” Ashleigh had sent us a long e-mail in November about how over her she was.
“Yeah,” Ashleigh says. “I just … didn’t think she’d be back. I thought she was going to spend the summer with her grandparents, doing Mohegan Tribe stuff. That’s what she said.”
“I guess things changed,” I say.
“She’s waving at us,” George says. “Wave back.”
We all wave back, and then start walking again.
“I just don’t want to do this again,” Ashleigh says. “I’m going to keep my distance. Stay polite, but not, like, best friends, like last summer.”
“Good plan,” I say.
“We’ll hold you to it,” George says.
“Okay,” Ashleigh says, pulling at the straps on her black one-piece, which is dotted with skulls. We walk past the safety fence around the pool and past the changing rooms to the pool itself, where George jumps in. I immediately spot Hudson, in a blue swimsuit—trunks, I mean. I hop in before he sees me, up past the waist so he doesn’t see the not-quite-masc-enough trunks. The water is a little cold, but the air is warm, so it’s nice, and a moment later I dip down to my neck.
“Darling, show off the abs,” George says. “Here he comes.”
Hudson is indeed swimming over, his dark hair plastered across his forehead. Brad is with him, and in a moment they’re standing in front of me, George, and Ashleigh. There’s a long moment where I check out Hudson without his shirt on—the carved but not too carved abs, the strong shoulders that would probably be perfect for sleeping on—and I realize he’s checking me out, too, tracing the trail of hair from my belly button down. I blush and dive under to hide it, popping up again a second later.
“You two done admiring each other?” George asks.
“I was admiring you,” Brad says to George.
“You grow a little body hair and suddenly they notice you,” George says to Ashleigh. Ashleigh is just staring at Janice, though, oblivious to us.
“I’ve noticed you before, George,” Brad says. George looks a little surprised he knows his name. “But yeah … the hair looks good on you. I’d like to lick—”
“Sometimes less is more, darling,” George interrupts. “But thank you.” He smiles and bats his eyelashes. Brad bites on his lower lip, smiling.
“You’re welcome. How was everyone’s year?” Brad asks, and Hudson looks confused.
“Bro, Del is new,” he says to Brad.
“Del?” Brad asks.
“Darling,” George says suddenly, “why don’t you and I go talk more about the wonders puberty has worked on my body over in the deep end?”
“Yeah?” Brad grins. “Sure.” I shoot George a thank-you with my eyes. Hopefully he can keep Brad from ruining the plan.
They swim off, and Ashleigh, still staring at Janice, starts to swim away, too.
“I’m going to go talk to Janice,” she says.
“No, you said—” I start to say, but then Hudson has his arm on my shoulder—my naked shoulder—and I can’t speak for a moment. I turn to look at him. He smiles. His eyes are dark gray with just a hint of blue, and the water flashes on them like sequins.
“So,” he says. “I’m glad they left us alone.”
“Yeah,” I say.
“Relatively speaking,” he says, gesturing at the rest of the camp swimming around us.
I laugh. “Yeah.”
“So, did you just come out recently?” he asks, leaning against the side of the pool and sliding down to his neck. I copy him, and it feels more intimate—our heads above the water, our bodies under it, blurred by the surface, so it looks like we’re touching.
“No,” I say. “I came out when I was twelve.” That’s the truth. Easier to stick to the truth.
“So, your parents just didn’t want to send you to a queer camp, then? Afraid it would be, like, all orgies and drag shows? Mine were freaked out about that.”
“Something like that,” I say. That’s a lie. My parents were great about sending me here. They were the ones who found the camp and suggested it four years ago. But I can explain that later. For now, he thinks this is my first year, and I’m keeping it that way.
“I just told them, it’s like any other camp, but no one is going to be afraid to get in a pool with me or anything.”
“Afraid to get in a pool with you?” I ask. “Who thinks like that?”
“Just some kids from my school. I came out when I was twelve, too. Outed, kind of, except to my folks. It didn’t go well. School in the suburbs of western Virginia isn’t exactly super liberal. So here, it’s like … a vacation, you know?”
“Yeah. In Ohio, too,” I say. “I don’t think I have it as bad as that, though. People mostly just ignore me.”
“Hard to imagine that.” Hudson wiggles his eyebrows, and under the water, his knee brushes mine and I look down to cover my blushing.
“Well, it happens,” I say. “I’m sorry you were bullied, though.”
“Not bullied, really,” he says. “I don’t like that word—it sounds so dramatic, or like I’m a victim or something. But let’s not talk about it. We’re at queer camp now! Everything rocks.”
“Yeah,” I say, our knees now firmly against each other. “Everything is perfect.”
We’re suddenly splashed as George does a cannonball a few feet from us, Brad doing another right after him. George swims over to us, narrowing his eyes.
“Where’s Ashleigh?” he asks.
“She went …” I remember and it hits me so hard, I think I might sink. “She’s talking to Janice. I tried to stop her.” But not enough.
“Not that hard, by the looks of it,” he says, now swimming to the edge of the pool and hoisting himself out. “Come on, we have to stop her.”
“Wait, what?” Hudson says.
“Sorry,” I say, following George. “She made us promise.”
“Should I come?” he asks.
“No,” George says. “You’ll just be a distraction.”
“Come back soon,” Hudson says, crossing his arms over the edge of the pool and resting his chin on them.
“I will,” I say. “Or I’ll see you at dinner.”
“Okay,” he says as I follow George around the side of the pool.
“Brad will keep his mouth shut, you’re welcome,” George says quietly as we walk—no running by the pool. “I told him you hit your head.”
“What?” I half whisper, half shout.
“It was what came to mind, after what Mark said,” he says, hands up in mock defense. “You have some memories, but not all of them. And reminding you of stuff could make you have a meltdown. So we decided it’s best if Hudson thinks you’re new.”