The drive out to Alex’s house is almost unbearable. I really don’t know what I’m going to say to him. I don’t even know if he’ll talk to me. I leave the stereo off the whole way. I’m not really in the mood to deal with Radio Karma right now.
I walk up to the door and just stand there for a moment, trying to collect my thoughts. That’s when I hear the voice.
“Are you going to knock or are you just going to stand there?”
It’s Alex. He’s caught me at the door again.
“That depends,” I say as I take a deep breath. “Do you want me to come in or do you never want to see me again?”
He looks me over for a moment and then does his crooked little smile. “Come on, let’s talk.”
We go inside, and I take a quick look around, making sure that Josie is nowhere to be seen.
“Don’t worry,” he says. “She’s gone.”
“About last night,” I blurt out.
He holds up his hands. “Before we talk about that, I need to tell you something.” He pauses, trying to find the right words.
“What is it?” I ask.
Finally, he gets it out. “We’re not going to be able to keep seeing each other.”
Even though I knew it was coming, it knocks the wind right out of me. I really don’t want to cry in front of him, but a few tears start to fall anyway.
“I understand,” I say, clearing my throat. “And I really can’t blame you.”
He gives me a confused look. “Why do you say that?”
“Because of, you know … last night and everything that happened.”
“No, it’s not that.”
“It’s my father.”
Now I’m really confused.
He moves over and sits right next to me. “My dad has to go to London to handle some big case, and Josie’s going with him. So I’m going to spend the rest of summer back home with my mom. She’s finished her documentary early. I’m going to fly to Washington … tomorrow.”
Now the waterworks really begin.
“So it’s not because of the whole mermaid-beaver thing?”
He smiles. “Not at all. That was a little … weird. But it was also kind of cute.”
“I’m so sorry that I lied to you.”
He smiles and cracks a little laugh and then he wraps me up in a big hug. “It’s not like it was a big lie,” he says. “I just don’t understand why you went to all the trouble.”
Funny. It made so much sense at the time.
“I thought you’d think I was a dork if you knew I was a giant beaver. Mermaid just sounded … sexier.”
“Personally, I think the beaver costume is pretty sexy. But that’s just me.”
He smiles, and I laugh. But it’s this really kind of repulsive laugh because I’m crying and my nose is congested. I’m a total wreck.
He puts his arms around me, and I cry against his chest. “This is what I was worried about that night up in the lifeguard stand,” he says as he strokes my hair. “I’m so sorry, baby.”
The “baby” is what really does me in. It just sounds so right. I slobber all over his shirt for a while, and he doesn’t rush me. He just keeps stroking my hair.
After about a minute or so, he asks, “Want to watch a movie? I know a theater that’s already open.”
I sit up and try to compose myself. “Sure.”
“First, though, I’d better change my shirt.”
I look down and I’m horrified to see that I have goobered all over his shirt. I don’t even know if dry cleaning could take care of it.
“Sorry,” I say.
“It’s okay.”
He does a quick change, and we head upstairs to the home theater. He does his best to keep the mood light, and I do my best to act like I’m not going to cry for the rest of my life.
“You’ll be happy to know that I have found something other than Blue Crush for us to watch,” he says as he sorts through the DVDs.
“Too bad,” I say. “I can never get enough of that movie. What’d you find instead?”
“The Princess Bride” he says. “Have you ever seen it?”
I shake my head. “I’ve never even heard of it.”
“Trust me. You’ll love it.”
He’s right about the movie. It really is good. It’s funny and it’s romantic. And it believes in sappy things like true love. We watch the whole thing leaning against each other with his arm around me.
When the movie ends, we start to hook up on the couch. But a few minutes later that ends when we hear the front door open. It’s Josie back from some sort of collagen injection or something.
“Hello,” she calls out in her nightmare nasal voice. “I’m home.”
“Up here,” he calls out.
“I hate to say this, but I have to get to work,” he tells me.
I nod. “Me too.”
We walk down the stairs and find Josie in unbelievably inappropriate workout clothes. I cough to keep from laughing.
“Janet!” she says like we’re old friends.
“It’s Jane,” Alex says.
“Of course, Jane,” she says. “I’m so sorry. Listen, girlfriend, I’m about to do Pilates. If you’re dope with that, you could join me.”
Now it’s getting hard not to laugh. “I’m dope with it. But I’ve really got to get to work.”
She nods knowingly. “I’m down with that.” (Which is funny, because Alex told me she’s never worked a single day in her life.)
Luckily Alex comes to my rescue. “You’d better get to your car.”
“A-ight, then,” Josie says. “Next time you’re in the ’hood, just holla.”
“I’ll definitely do that,” I say as we leave.
We hold hands as we walk to my car.
“Wait right here,” he says. “There’s something I need to get out of my car.”
He walks over and pops his trunk and pulls out a present. It’s wrapped in red paper with a big gold bow.
“I was going to bring it over to your house before I went to work.”
I open it and smile. It’s a big bulky USC sweatshirt.
“I ordered it online,” he says. “I want you to have it so you can remember why you’re training so hard. That swim team doesn’t know how lucky they are.”
“Keep my eyes on the prize,” I say, quoting Becca.
“Exactly.”
“I love it,” I tell him. “It’s really great.”
I feel like I’m about to cry again, and I really don’t want to do that. I catch it and clear my throat.
“I brought something for you, too.” I lean into the backseat and pull out a large manila envelope. “It’s your swim certificate.”
He lights up as he opens it. I did it in Photoshop, and I think it turned out pretty good.
He reads off of the certificate: “‘For battling demons of the deep—both real and imagined, Alexander Walker has achieved the rank of Grand Pollywog.’
“It’s absolutely perfect,” he says.
“You should be proud, Alex. It’s not easy to overcome your fears. Believe me, I know that.”
He reads it again to himself, and I see that wonderful smile one last time.
“I can’t believe I’m so excited about being a stupid Pollywog,” he says.
I look at him and smile too. “I don’t know. I think Pollywog’s pretty sexy. But maybe that’s just me.”
He wraps me in a huge hug, and we kiss.
It’s funny how you remember things. The thing I remember about our kiss up on the lifeguard stand is the taste of the salt in the air. And the thing I remember about our first kiss in the pool is the taste of the chlorine.
This last kiss I’ll remember for its taste too.
It’s the taste of tears sliding down onto our lips. But the amazing thing is that the tears aren’t mine.