No One's Watching (22 page)

Mrs. Sykes channeled us down wide flagstone steps. A striped, tent-like cabana shaded a small part of the deck. Lounge chairs and tables lined the pool.

Blake and I wandered over to another low stone wall dividing the pool area from the river. The torrent caused the submerged plants to flatten themselves against the rocks. Two white swans swept into view.

Mrs. Sykes, Ms. Jen, and some dance students came to the wall.

“Aren't they lovely?” Mrs. Sykes said. “Those are our resident swans. They live here at the park and have some relatives on Bantry Bay, our Irish sister city.”

“Irish swans.” Megan hugged Lindy. “I'm going to Ireland one day and dance at World Championships.”

“Me, too.” Lindy clapped.

The swans circled and paddled to the shore below the wall. Ms. Jen pulled out a digital camera and clicked away. Amy hummed the intro to Tchaikovsky's
Swan Lake
ballet and flapped her hands in a parody.

“They want a handout.” Mrs. Sykes shook her head. “People often come to the park and feed them from the walking trails near the river, although you're not supposed to.”

She faced away from the river. “You may change into your bathing suits now. There are ping-pong tables set up. No running or horseplay at the pool. We'll ring a bell at lunchtime. Please be prompt.”

“We'll save you and Blake some chairs if you want.” Candace left with Danilo and most of the dancers.

“Thanks.” I waved at her and leaned over the wall. The swans' dazzling bodies were motionless. Even their wings were stiffly tucked into their sides. Through the clear water, their hoe-shaped feet paddled away. “Remember what Mr. Sean told us in class about working hard with your legs and having a cup of tea on top?”

“I get it now.” Blake leaned over the wall. “They put so much effort into staying in the same place, but they don't even look like they're working.”

Another swan glided into view. He arched his neck and paddled straight toward us. Maybe he'd come ashore so I could climb on his back and he could take me away. Instead, he raised his head and trumpeted. It was more like the skirling of bagpipes than a bugle. He circled upstream again and the current swept him around. Swimming on a diagonal toward the opposite bank, he disappeared under some tree limbs.

“He's a noisy guy.” Blake laughed.

“Why is he swimming like that?” I shook my head. “It's as if he doesn't know where he's going.”

Ms. Jen's arm floated toward the water. “He's swanning, paddling around aimlessly.”

“The swan's swanning. Okay.” I crossed my arms and nodded my head.

Ms. Jen slung her tote bag across her shoulder. “I feel like that sometimes. Do you? I'm working hard and not going anywhere.”

“Do I feel like I'm swanning? I guess.” My dream of being a ballet dancer swam away with the swan. I would have to concentrate and work harder.

Ms. Jen took a picture of Blake and me on the wall with our heads tilted together. She gave Blake the camera, and he took a picture of her by pots of red flowers around the pool.

Nicki came over and peered at the remaining swans. “Sweet.” She wiggled onto the coarse rocks and crossed her legs. “Actually, they remind me of Amy and Shelly.”

“Why?” I sat on the wall too.

Nicki pinched up her mouth. “Swans are so vain. They're nasty birds.”

“I think they're beautiful.”

“Not after one chases you and nips you on your—”

“When are you guys going to get changed?” Dira looked like a two-legged bug with her enormous sunglasses. She dropped her beach bag and joined Ms. Jen, striking crazy poses while Blake clicked pictures of them.

“Nicki, did you know yesterday when we came back from Sweet Hearth's, Candace and I couldn't get in the kitchen door?”

She frowned. “How did you get in?”

“We sneaked into the garage and up through the lobby.”

She shrugged. “Sorry. We took a chance and came in the front door. The security guy wasn't even there.”

He was probably in the kitchen removing the brick.

Nicki hopped off the wall, snatching her tote bag as Blake walked up to me. “You guys are coming with us, aren't you?”

I dragged my feet as we trailed after Nicki. Who moved the brick if it wasn't the security guy? Shelly?

Mrs. Ricardo fluttered around her husband, settling him in a chair in the cabana and dabbing his face. She propped rolled towels on either side of his chair.

Blake peered at me. “Cheer up. Your grandmother will be fine. It's time to have fun. Besides, the weather's great.” He squinted at the brilliant, yellow sun in a flawless blue sky, promising a perfect day.

I wasn't inhabiting a perfect day. While Mrs. Ricardo fussed with her husband, Mr. Jarenko swept leaves with his hand from a chair on the opposite side of the cabana near the stone wall and stretched out on his towel. He fitted a white cotton hat with a small brim on his head and took a hardcover book from a plastic grocery bag.

Mom's negative comment about Irish dance had wormed its way into my brain. It joined all the other remarks she'd ever made about it. What did she have against Irish dance? She was okay when I played an Irish song. Kind of squirmy, but still okay.

What if I never got a ballet solo at camp? I had less than two weeks to work on changing Mrs. Ricardo's mind. My eyes shifted from Mr. Jarenko to Mrs. Ricardo and her puny — sickly — husband. How far was I willing to go to get a solo? Blackmail?

Heaviness lodged in my shoulders, and I shivered despite the heat. What was I becoming? A blackmailer? Not going there. No way.

After a boxed lunch eaten in the shady breeze on the flagstone patio, Blake and I stretched drowsily on lounge chairs, baking in the sun. Megan, Lindy, and the rest of the Irish munchkins stayed to themselves by the diving area. Tiffany accentuated her nose by covering it in white zinc oxide. She'd burrowed under a hat and towels. Why did she bother coming? Students who hadn't wanted to spend the day at the park stayed with the rest of the teachers back in the dorm.

Blake snored under his Chester Park University baseball cap, his jaw line visible beneath the white bill. Lindy had loaned me an Irish dance magazine, and I waited for him to wake up so I could share the pictures of the competitions with him. Trophies big enough you could swim in them, glittering costumes and dancers caught in gravity defying leaps. A girl in a stiff dress with swirling designs commanded the camera. Curls cascaded from the crown of her head. The title of the story was “National Irish Dance Champions to Compete in Dublin, Ireland.” What would he think of all that?

Danilo offered a bag of chips to Candace as he sat on the end of her lounge chair. Several dancers played water polo volleyball. Shelly perched on Jupiter's shoulders as she whacked at the ball. One of the other boy dancers walked past us, his long, sopping swim trunks wadded around his legs. He dove into the pool, sending a spray of water over us.

Dira shifted her sunglasses down her nose. “He's kind of cute. I wonder how old he is.”

“I dated him last year.” Nicki opened her magazine and flipped through the pages.

“What?” Dira removed her sunglasses and sat up.

“Yeah. He's nothing special.” Nicki continued to course through the magazine.

Dira grabbed Nicki's magazine and slapped her with it. “You're such a liar.” She stood and threw her sunglasses and Nicki's magazine on her chair. “I'm going in the water. I'm hot.”

“I'm the one who's hot.” Nicki snapped the legs of her bathing suit and jumped in before Dira had a chance.

Candace and I raised eyebrows at each other over Blake. We shook our heads and burst out laughing.

Blake woke and stretched. “Have you been in the water yet?”

I sat up. “I'm working on it.”

He tossed off his cap and stood. “Need any help?”

I shook my head.

“Too bad.” He scooped me up, took two long strides and heaved us both in the pool. I was still in his arms as the cool water surged over us, bubbles rushing to the surface. He pushed us out of the water and shook his head — doggy-style — while I laughed and shrieked as water showered me. He took an exaggerated gulp of air, so I did too, before going back under water.

Then it happened. The wonderful thing I had daydreamed about since last summer. I never once figured it would be underwater.

We sank to the bottom of the pool. He gently pulled my face close to him, and my lips dissolved into his. Blake kissed me. Was the kiss wet? Duh. We were in the pool. Did it take my breath away? I was already holding my breath, and I forgot to breathe, which was a good thing since we were still underwater.

It was everything I thought it would be and more. BLAKE KISSED ME. When we surfaced, Nicki and Dira perched on the side. Nicki's mouth was a thin line, but Dira's face lit up.

“How's the water?” Dira leaned into the pool.

Shelly towered over us on Jupiter's shoulders. “Practicing your underwater breathing?” She tossed Jupiter's double caps to the side of the pool, leaned over his head and kissed him, tumbling into the water and dragging Jupiter with her.

Blake and I rode the tidal wave to the shallow side of the pool, where we sat on wide cement steps. We held hands underwater and leaned against the chrome handrail. I was in water heaven.

Amy was busy lining up the water noodles beneath herself in a makeshift raft and falling through. Finally, she gave up and let them float away. I reached for the noodles bobbing close to me.

A volleyball landed in front of Blake, shooting him in the face with water. “Come on, man, we're getting up a game,” Jupiter called.

I gathered several tubes. “Go on. I'm going to float away with my troubles.”

“From your troubles.” He leaned over and kissed me again.

My first air kiss! Ahh. And I didn't have to worry about drowning.

“Everything's going to work out.” He pushed off toward the center of the pool. Were we boyfriend and girlfriend?

After I made a nest of noodles, I climbed into the middle and lay back. I ran my fingers on the rough edge of the pool, bobbing along the side. The water rimmed my face, blocking all the noise. I closed my eyes against the sunlight.

As I lifted my arm into the air, the breeze chilled my skin. I dropped it back in the water, I couldn't tell the difference between the water and my body. The kiss was like that. All my muscles relaxed, including my brain. Instead of butting up against the world, I was melting into the universe.

Blake was right. Everything would work out. Somehow. Grandma, the ballet solo, Shelly, even Irish dance — I didn't want to give that up if I could help it, no matter what Mom's opinion was. It was too much fun. I inhaled. The air had a metallic scent.

I didn't know how long I drifted along, tethered to the side of the pool by my fingertips. My ears lay underwater. The water rocked away my anxieties while a spray of water tickled my face. I must have drifted nearer to the volleyball game.

The sprinkling became a splatter, pinging me. When I opened my eyes, the computer-screen blue sky had dimmed to gray. Clouds tightened in swirls, and rain whacked my forehead. Rain? What happened to the flawless day?

I raised my head in time for the screams to penetrate my ears. Everyone was dashing up the stairs to the stone house. Lightning scribbled the sky like a crazy fluorescent pen. My arms and legs hardened to lead, and I couldn't move. I was alone in a pool in a lightning storm.

My deadliest fear.

Blake called to me as he sprinted from our chairs, backpacks beating his shoulders. He slipped as I reached for him. Lightning ripped the sky. I sank. Blake yanked me out of the water, and I flew to my feet, landing in first position on the pool deck. We sprinted up the steps past Mrs. Ricardo, gingerly leading her husband out of his chair under the cabana. Blake pushed me to safety in the stone house and threw off the backpacks.

“Help me get that man up the steps.” Blake tugged at Danilo, who had pulled Candace inside the building.

I stood by the door under the small canopy as Blake and Danilo dashed outside again. When they reached the cabana, they grasped their hands and wrists together, forming a fourhanded seat, like we did in relay races in school. Mrs. Ricardo helped her husband sit on the seat they'd made. She steadied him as they climbed the steps. Rain lashed at them, and thunder cracked in the distance.

Candace yanked me back inside.

“Get away from the windows,” Mrs. Sykes called as we pressed against the glass to watch their progress. She fretted and paced, shooing dancers into the middle of the room.

“They're back,” Jupiter called.

Mrs. Sykes hurried to the door and opened it for them. A torrent of rain poured into the room.

“Take him to a chair.” Mrs. Ricardo gestured to a seating area. “I have to go back out. My husband's medicine is in my bag.”

After Blake and Danilo carefully sat the man down, Blake rushed for the door. “I'll get it.”

“No. Stay here.” Mrs. Ricardo reached for Blake, but he was already out the door.

I clutched Candace's arm. Lightning stabbed at the sky, followed by the pounding of thunder.

“The lightning is close.” Amy shuddered and rubbed her arms. “I can tell. The hair on my arm is standing up.” She pressed her nose against the glass. “Blake's not going to make it.”

I pulled her away. “Stop talking.”

The rain dropped like the closing of a gray curtain on some awful stage. It was impossible to see Blake. Was he having trouble finding Mrs. Ricardo's bag in the cabana?

Amy went back to the window. “It's not safe under that tent thing. It's made of metal poles. It's like standing under a bunch of lightning rods. Only a dummy would do that.”

“Blake's stupid.” Shelly shook her head.