Breathe, Annie, Breathe
Page 53

 Miranda Kenneally

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
Jeremiah ducks into the tent to change into his bathing suit. Two minutes go by before I hear a thrashing sound and a curse.
“What’s going on in there, Jere?”
“I’m not used to changing my shorts while sitting down! You try it.”
“I just did it a couple minutes ago.”
“But I’m taller than you.”
“Jesus,” I mutter.
He emerges a couple minutes later wearing long, navy blue board shorts, nothing else, and leaving little to the imagination. Holy ab muscles.
We doggy paddle out to the rope line that encircles the swimming area. I throw one leg over a buoy and pull myself onto it. He does the same, facing me, shaking the water out of his crazy hair. Swiping the wet bangs off his forehead, he swiftly looks me up and down.
“What?” I ask.
“I like your bikini. It reminds me of these supper napkins my mom has.”
I roll my eyes. “You sure know how to make a girl feel special, Jere.”
“I notice anything that has to do with my mom’s cooking.”
“Boys.”
I take a deep breath and look around, enjoying the blue water and thick trees. The forest here is so massive it’s a creature unto itself.
We sit in silence until Nick, Kimberly, and their friends cruise up on her father’s speedboat.
“Want to come on the boat?” my brother calls. Jeremiah leaps off his buoy and climbs up the boat ladder before I can even respond. Soon we’re speeding around the lake, and after he gets his fill of driving the boat, Jeremiah wants to water ski. And of course he’s awesome at it, ripping up the waves.
“Does he have to be so good at every sport?” I grumble to Nick.
“He’s making the rest of us guys look bad, but I’m glad you brought him,” my brother replies, squeezing my shoulder.
At sunset, I sit on a smooth log to watch the blue sky change into purple and gold. Jeremiah joins me, carrying two cans of beer under his arms and a plate of sliced watermelon that we immediately dig into. I rip huge chunks off with my teeth, wiping the juice from my lips with the back of my hand.
He daintily eats his piece as I chow down. “Don’t eat the seeds! You’ll grow a watermelon baby.”
I spit a seed near his foot to piss him off and he laughs. The surface of the water was so busy earlier today when everybody was boating and splashing, but now it’s a calm blue, just like Jeremiah and me. I like being around him because I don’t have to worry about filling the silence. We just are. I study him out of the corner of my eye. Half of his crazy brown hair is pulled back with a band; I never thought I’d be into the ponytail look on guys, but it seems I am. He hasn’t put a shirt on yet, so I discreetly check out his skin. The Flash tattoo on his shoulder blade. The lifetime of scars and bruises spotting his arms and back, even though he’s only twenty.
“I can’t believe how nice it is out here,” he says, toeing the white sand. “I never knew this beach existed.”
“Not many people do, I think. It’s private. My brother’s girlfriend’s father works at the Air Force base, so that’s how we’re allowed to use it.”
He pops the cap on his beer and sips. “Kimberly seems nice.”
“You just like her because she gave you beer and pulled you around on her boat all afternoon.”
“You caught me,” he laughs. “I loved water skiing. I’ve never gone before.”
“But you looked like a pro out there! How is that possible you’re good at every sport?”
“That’s just silly. I stink at ballet—my little sister tells me that when I try to copy her moves.”
I snort, nearly choking on a watermelon seed.
Jeremiah slaps my back. “I told you not to eat the seeds, Winters.”
I spit another one at him and he smacks it away like a pro.
“How’d you get into extreme sports anyway?” I ask quietly, wondering where the adrenaline junkie-ness came from.
“I started trying to beat myself at stuff. To work harder. To learn more about my body and mind and their limits.”
I pop open my beer and take a long sip, processing what he said. The beer makes me feel a little lightheaded considering I couldn’t keep food down after my run earlier. “When did you start doing this?”
He toes a twisty root sticking out of the ground as he takes a drink of beer. “After high school, I reckon. I played soccer my whole life…and then I didn’t make it onto a college team…I needed something to do with my time.”