Chapter 2—Dell's POV

"Dell! Over here!"

I waved to my best friend, Chris Walker, receiving a dirty glance from a chesty blond girl in a tiny bikini who'd been eyeing him for awhile. If she thought I was interested in Chris, well, she was dead wrong, but we were best friends and had been for practically forever. My mom liked to say that she was born with friends, which, I guess, is true. But then she goes on to say that I could've been born with friends as well. And while that's also potentially true, I'd never spend my life hanging out with my "birth friends." Why? Well, because we're not friends at all, regular or birth.

You know the drill, I think. Laura, the beautiful blond; Bailey, who's surly and withdrawn (my mom says she's just like her own mother was at her age); and Jen, the most boring person to walk this earth. It sounds like a group of friends from a touching girls' novel, doesn't it? It just needs the sporty tomboy to finish it up, right? That would be me, the sporty tomboy, but sorry, there's no story here. None at all, except for a history of screaming toddlers, then crying eight-year-olds, and then on to your textbook spiteful adolescent. Which, I guess, makes a decent story, doesn't it?

Yep, that part of my life is pretty darn twisted, so let me explain a little better. My mom has these three best friends, Lena, Bridget, and Tibby. By some miracle, they all managed to have baby girls around the same time. Which sounds great, but totally isn't. Jen, Laura, and Bailey are nothing like I am. "Opposites attract" does not apply in our case, either. We just don't get along.

Back to the story, then. It was June fifth, and it wasn't very hot out, but I spend most of my summer days at the pool, rain or shine. Swim team is one of my many sports-related passions, and, thanks to that, I know everybody here at the pool. So it's pretty much my all-time favorite place to hang out in the summer.

Chris had been here awhile. I could tell by the water droplets on his bare shoulders and the way his nose was already getting pink-he burns easily. Nevertheless, he grinned jovially at me as I dumped my bag on a chair next to his. "Hey Dell! What's new?"

I took off my shirt. "Nothing. You?"

"I've been scoping out the competition."

"Huh?"

"You know, for swim team!"

"Maybe I need to refresh your memory, Chris. The people on our team are our I teammates /I ."

"Ha ha, Dell, you're hilarious," Chris said dryly. "No, I've been scoping out the competition, for real. I went to all the pools we swim against today and swam a little bit at each pool."

"Wow, really?" I asked, slathering some sunscreen onto my shoulders. "That's cool. Why didn't you call me?"

"I did. Nobody picked up."

"Oh. Well, that's okay. We probably know about all of the major competitors, anyway," I commented. "Unless there are new people?"

Chris shrugged. "I don't know. I saw some hot girls, though."

I rolled my eyes. "Don't want to hear about it."

He grinned. "Yeah, I figured you wouldn't, but I felt compelled to mention it."

"Why, exactly?"

He smirked. "Well—they're I your /I competition, Dell." He puffed out his chest. "To get I me /I !"

I squirted sunscreen into his face, then jumped into the pool. I surfaced and watched as he spat and rubbed at his eyes furiously. "Oh, you are so going to get it when I get this crap off my face," he growled, grabbing my towel and wiping the rest of the lotion off of his skin. I shrieked and kicked away as he dove into the pool, but I wasn't fast enough: surfacing, Chris grabbed my ankle, pulled me under.

When I came up, blinded, but relieved to be in the shallow water, he caught me around the neck in a headlock. "You are so in for it," he whispered in my ear, as I kicked and struggled to get free. He started dunking me under, repeatedly, for a few seconds each time—up and down, up and down. After a few times of this, he released me, laughing. "That's what you get."

I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with air, and climbed out of the pool. "I'm hungry. Let's get a snack."

"Okay, whatever," he said, jumping out and standing next to me. "I'm always up for food."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, I know, Chris."

We purchased ice cream bars and found a table to sit at. "So," said Chris, licking at his ice cream, "are you going to get me invited to the Fourth of July thing again this year?"

I rolled my eyes. "Chris, you're always invited."

He shrugged. "I know. I'm just making sure you've still got a place for me."

"Well, you're invited. And you'd better come, too. If you don't, I think I'd go crazy."

He laughed. "They're not so bad, Dell. They're actually kind of fun. Well, the food's good, anyway."

"Yes, but, aside from your bottomless stomach, it's I boring /I ."

"Not really. There's lots of people and games and food and then fireworks…what else do you want on the Fourth?"

I sighed. "I don't know. I just don't like it."

"No, you just don't like Laura, Bailey, and Jen."

I cracked a grin. "Okay, I guess you've got me there. But can you blame me?"

"I don't know. I don't talk to the much," Chris replied. "Have you?"

"Yeah, of course I have. They don't like me and I don't like them, and this Fourth of July thing is another day where we're forced together."

"Not forced, exactly," Chris mused, tossing his chocolate-y stick into the nearest trash can. "You don't have to talk to them."

"Chris, I swear, sometimes you're the most annoying person on this planet," I said, flicking a crumpled-up napkin at him. "Come on, let's go find some other people. I'm bored."

We stood up. Surely somebody else would be here, somebody from swim team-Jake, Zach, or Ben were always around. Where were they today? Nowhere in sight, that was for sure. In fact, none of our swim team friends were present.

"God, this sucks," Chris said an hour later. We'd been playing cards in the bathhouse for forty minutes—one long, continuous, never-ending game of War. "Come on, Dell. Let's have some real fun."

"Yeah, because there's so much I real /I fun to be had around here," I grumbled, gathering up the cards and handing them back to the lifeguard on duty inside the shack. "What do you want to do?"

"Anything," he replied, swinging a leg over his bike. "Hop on."

Reluctantly, I climbed onto his handlebars. "I hate doing this."

"Complain, complain, is that all you ever do?" He started pedaling forward. "Tell me if we're about to crash."

"Car!"

"Huh?"

"There's a car coming, Chris! A Hummer. You might want to get off the road."

"Ha, ha, Dell."

It wasn't funny, though. Because I wasn't kidding. A huge, black, boxy Hummer was headed straight towards us, and it didn't look like it had intentions of slowing down. It honked once and Chris yelped. "Crap!"

"Chris! I Get off the road /I !" I shrieked. "NOW!"

For once, he obeyed, veering off the road straight into a ditch. We crashed into it as the Hummer sped past.

"Stupid jerks," I muttered, watching as it zoomed down the road. "They could've killed us! What were they thinking? I wish I could give them a piece of my mind." Shakily, I got to my feet. I was a little sore and I'd definitely be bruised tomorrow, but I was fine. "Chris? You okay?"

I got a groan in response. I turned around to see Chris lying on the ground, his eyes closed and jaw clenched. He was holding his right ankle.

"Oh my God. Chris."

"I think it's broken." He gasped. "It I hurts /I ."

"Don't move, Chris. Not an inch. I'll get help, okay? Be right back." I wheeled the bike away, rested it on a tree, and then sprinted full speed back into the bathhouse, which was luckily just down the road. Rick, the lifeguard on duty, looked up.

"Hey Dell," he said.

"Rick! Chris is hurt. I think he broke his ankle."

Rick was up in a flash. "One sec, I'm coming." Megan, one of the younger lifeguards, was passing by. Rick grabbed her by the arm. "Megan, can you cover me?" Looking puzzled, she nodded.

"Okay, great. Come on, Dell." He started running out. "Where?"

"Turn right, he's in a ditch!" I couldn't keep up with Rick, but I ran as fast as I could anyway.

When I reached Chris, Rick was already bent over him. I stood by nervously. Rick looked up at me, his face grave. "It's really swollen. We have to get him to the hospital. Dell, go back to the pool and find Alex."

I nodded, then ran back to the pool. Alex, a seventeen-year-old swimming champ, was sitting on a bench reading. Luckily he wasn't on duty. "Alex," I said, coming up to him. "Chris is hurt. Rick said to come get you."

Alex put down his book, stood up. "What happened?"

"He fell off his bike. We have to get him to the hospital."

"Yeah. Okay. Get in my car, we'll drive over to him."

I followed Alex out to his car and got in the passenger seat. "They're not far away. Just turn right, he's just up the road," I instructed. Alex drove where I told him to and soon we saw them.

Alex and Rick lifted Chris into the backseat. I slid in next to him. "I've got to go back to the pool," Rick said. "See you guys later." He took off, jogging, and Alex started driving.

What a way to start off the summer.