To my dismay, the pool is pretty crowded. There are countless kids running, yelling, splashing and just being obnoxious. The same goes for the locker room, and I'm forced to change in a bathroom stall.
"Gross," I grumble, as I close the door behind me.
There's no hook for my bag so I shut the lid to the toilet and begrugingly set my things down.
"If I catch something, I'll sue," I say to myself.
I peel off my shoes and step onto the dirty floor. I pull my dress off, crumple it into a ball and shove it into my bag. I reach further in for my swimsuit, but instead of feeling smooth spandex, my fingers touch ruffles.
"What the-"
I snatch up my bag and frantically start throwing things out until I am left with one revoltingly girly, bright yellow and pink swimsuit.
"Motherf-AHHHHHHHHHH!"
I scream bloody murder. Enraged, I kick the toilet, instantly regretting it since I'm in socks. I double over in pain. Hopping on one foot, I turn around clumsily and try to sit down. Unfortunately my aim was off and I slip off the edge of the toilet, banging my head against the side of the stall as I fall down into the muck.
"Ohhh, Greeeaaaat," I moan, examining the filth now covering me.
I just want to leave, but I'm covered in dirt and God knows what. So to my horror, I slip on that damn bikini. It's as ill-fitting as predicted, sagging on my boyish figure.
"Well today can't get any worse," I say confidently, shoving my things back in my bag and exiting the stall.
I near the pool's edge as my ears pick up familiar voices.
"Can you get my back Sheena?" asks an awkward, ginger haired boy.
He hands a sunscreen bottle to a tall, lanky girl. My blood turns to ice. Carelessly I toss my bag aside and jump in. I hold my breath until I've reached the other side of the pool. I look back and they didn't seem to notice me. Well, hallelujah.
Eugene and Sheena haven't changed, appearing as inseperable as ever. Platonically speaking, that is. Eugene came out last year, suprise, surprise. As if his habit of breaking out in show tunes and flamboyant dancing wasn't a big enough hint. Sheena's recently took an interest in activisim. With her hippy parents and gay best friend it only makes sense. She's actually turned out pretty cool if you ask me. At least she cares more about changing the world than the latest gossip. Just don't get her started on GMOs.
I reach the other side, but with some difficulty. The children are giving me hell, one of them almost kicked me in the face. Just a few more laps and I'm out of here.
And now my mind travels back the boy that gives me the most hell. Arnold, what a chump. What a hopeless humanitarian. What an over eager do-goody geek! How I despise him. And yet...
I take a deep breath and dive back under water.
How I love him! Arnold, so benevolent, so totally considerate and selfless. And yet how stingy he can be with his goodwill. How oblivious he is to the fact that he totally ditched me this summer! He chose charity work for impoverished children over me. I mean, what gives? Sure those orphans needed a home, and it must have been nice to see his parents again, but what about me?
What about the fact that Pheobe also left for the summer? Gerald and I arent exactly chummy without Arnold and Pheobe. I was stuck with Big Bob, Miriam, and Olga as my only company. I pretty much avoided everyone else to escape any gossip surrounding Arnold and I. I was openly cold towards him the last few weeks of school, and naive Arnold didn't know how to handle it. He chose to first ignore my outbursts and then me altogher. People started talking.
"Oh my God, Arnold broke up with Helga!"
"Wait, I totally thought she was a dyke."
"Why would he want to be with someone like her?"
"Are you sure they were actually dating?"
Hell sometimes I don't even know.
I break the water's surface and drink in the air. Eugene and Sheena have left, so I hoist myself out of the water. I walk over to collect my bag when I notice it has been repeatedly trampled on. And it's soaked. Everything. My towel, dress, shoes, socks, everything.
"Damn it!" I curse.
I wring my dress out the best I can manage and throw it on. I look a mess. My bust is lumpy and my saggy bottoms stick to the dress. I put on my shoes without socks. Water gushes out of them with every step. This will have to do.
I make my way to the bus stop, just as it is arriving. I fish out some wet bills and have to force the meter to take it.
"Next time you ride my bus, make sure you dry off first, little lady," the driver grunts, obviously annoyed.
"Oh, put a sock in it!" I retort, and storm off to the back.
It's an uncomfortable ride home. I can feel eyes on me the whole ride. I'm tempted to yell or shake my fist at these losers. Instead I just stare out the window. I don't want to miss my stop this time.
Ten minutes later, I'm pulling the cable and jumping out the door. I race up the steps with relief. I burst through the front door, and once again I feel as if my blood has turned to ice. Then a blinding heat explodes in my head. This fire collides with the ice in my chest and I can't breathe. I can't move. Arnold is standing right in front of me.