The water was ice cold. I mean, yeah, it was almost July and the air temperature was getting closer and closer to the 80s, but the water felt like it was about 50. I let out a strangled-sounding gasping shout when I resurfaced, water streaming off me, arms flailing.
“Holy shit!”
Chloe was still on the beach, laughing. “You’re insane!” She took a few steps closer and a wave licked the tips of her toes. “That water is so cold!”
I stood, the lower half of me still submerged. “Come on,” I coaxed her. “It’s actually rather refreshing.”
That wasn’t a lie; yes, my balls felt like they had been sucked back into my body and my dick was probably about the size of a thumb, but aside from that, the cold salt water had a way of making you feel cleansed in a way that couldn’t really be compared with anything else.
“But you’ve got to just go for it,” I said. “Don’t think about it. If you think about it too much, you won’t do it.” Fuck, I was starting to sound like Todd.
She looked nervous, as if I were trying to talk her into jumping off the top of a building, not coming into the water for a swim. A greenhead buzzed near me and I went back under, the cold still somewhat of a shock to my upper body. When I resurfaced, Chloe had taken her hat off and was looking right at me.
“Okay,” she said. “Here I come.”
And just like that, she ran right into the water, shrieking before she’d gotten in past her knees. But she dove under, and actually swam several yards before coming up.
She was gasping and wiping the water from her face. “Oh my God,” she said, half-laughing. “This water is so cold. You’re right, though—it does feel refreshing. I’d just really like to not encounter any sharks.”
“I’ll protect you if we do.”
She smiled and splashed a bunch of water at me. “You better.”
We swam for a little while, then floated on our backs, faces upturned toward the warm sun. I barely even knew this girl, yet there was something about her that m
ade me feel differently than I had with previous women. I had no idea what it was; maybe I was even imagining it since I’d decided I wouldn’t be dating anyone this summer. Maybe it was just a trick my mind was playing on me, trying to get me to give in.
Chapter Ten
Chloe
I’d decided that I wouldn’t talk to my parents about the sculpture. And even if they asked, I would be purposefully vague. This way, they would be completely floored when they went to the exhibit, and I would be right there to see the expressions on their faces.
Mom didn’t really have any interest in talking to me about the exhibit though—she wanted to know if I had any plans on Thursday night.
“I’m not sure,” I said hesitantly. If I said no, I didn’t, she was probably going to try to get me to go with her to a wine tasting or to some function at the yacht club, which was the last place I felt like spending any time.
“Do you remember my friend Alison? They’re from California and they rent the O’Conner’s house for a few months every summer?”
“Uh ... not really.” It would be impossible to remember every single person that my mother considered a friend.
“They have a son, about your age. His name’s Riley. Nice boy. Anyway, they’re here now for a few weeks, and Alison and I were at lunch the other day and we got to talking. About you two.”
“Us two?”
“Yes, you and Riley. It sounds like the two of you have a lot in common! So, Alison and I were thinking it might be nice to arrange a little get-together. Just the two of you, of course—we wouldn’t be there. How does that sound?”
“You’re setting me up on a blind date?”
“You make it sound like it’s a bad thing! And it doesn’t have to be a blind date—here, I’ll show you a picture. Alison texted me one. He’s very handsome.” I sat there, trying not to roll my eyes, as my mother started tapping away at the screen of her phone. “Here,” she said triumphantly, turning the screen to face me. “Isn’t he handsome?”
The picture showed a guy on a boat, in a sky blue polo shirt, his short, light brown hair blowing in the breeze. He had a smile on his face, showing off perfect, white teeth. He looked incredibly wholesome, like this was a picture out of some Christian Bible camp pamphlet or something.
“He looks nice,” I said finally. I looked at her. “Please tell me you didn’t text his mother a picture of me.” I hated having my picture taken and did whatever I could to stay out of photos, but my mother was notorious for sneaking around and getting candid shots, which usually meant in the photos she had of me I was mid-sentence or about to take a bite of food.
“Don’t worry, Chloe, I wouldn’t send a bad photo of you,” she said. “Anyway, Riley is free this Thursday, and Alison and I thought it would be splendid if the two of you went out to dinner together. And before you start trying to think of excuses, I’d like it if you were just open to this idea and went out this one time. If it doesn’t work out, fine, you tried, and that’s the most anyone can expect.”
“I just don’t understand why you’re trying to set me up on a date. Did I ask you to do this? No.”