We leave hand in hand. Walking down the stairs, through the basement, and out the back door. The air is thick and heavy as we head toward the water and sweat is already dotting along my hairline once my feet hit the sand.
“Ouch!” Luna’s hand flies out of mine as she brings them down to the soles of her feet. She hops back and forth, the hot sand burning her as she jumps from foot to foot all the way down to the water. She looks weird. “That sand is hot! Doesn’t it hurt?”
My feet burn, but it’s welcome against my skin. I’ve lived here for as long as I can remember. The heat reminds me of home. The slight fishy and beachy smell is refreshing to me instead of gross.
“Not really.” I walk toward her until my feet slide into wet sand beneath the water. I curl my toes around the rocks underneath the sand, feeling as they scrape against the skin between my toes.
“You’re kind of weird.” She bends over and dips the tips of her fingers into the water. The hem of her dress gets wet, the blue fabric darkening to an almost black.
“I’m not weird. You’re weird.” I scowl at her, cupping my hand and splashing her a little. Only a little, though, because I know my mom will make my life hell if I drench the new neighbor.
But when she brings both hands to her chest, palms out, and pushes a wave of water toward me, I can only think of one thing. I dive under the water, eyes open as I watch her legs move in slow motion in an attempt to run away from me. I wrap my fingers around her skinny ankle and pull her underneath the water. She slips beneath like a piece of paper, folding and bending under the water with her pale, thin limbs.
I cut through the water until I reach the surface, laughing and rubbing the water from my face. Luna reaches the surface a second later, coughing and laughing. Her black hair looks silky as it lays down her back. I want to touch it and see if it feels as soft as it looks, but instead I turn around and go to the dock. Pressing my palms against the chipped wood, I push myself up and sit on the edge, leaving my feet to wade in the water.
Luna follows my motions, walking through the water and over to me in her sopping wet dress. She has a harder time, hopping a few times until she finally lifts herself up and sits close to me.
Really close to me.
Her wet leg brushes against my wet leg, prickling goosebumps against my flesh. I keep my head facing the lake floor but shift my eyes to hers, wondering why she would choose to sit so close to me. I don’t even know her.
“My friend used to live in your house,” I say, because I’m still angry about the entire situation. I never wanted my friend to move. But my mom says that’s what happens when people get a divorce.
Luna looks over at me, her gray eyes trailing across my face. “I didn’t want to move here.”
“Why did you?” I frown at her, wishing for a moment that she could go back to where she came from.
“My dad got a job here, I guess. Something with cheese.”
I nod. Wisconsin has a lot of cheese.
The silence stretches taut, the invisible string between us growing thin, the tiny threads shredding until there is barely anything left. Just as it’s about to snap, whatever weird tension is building, I leap into the water and walk up to shore.
The only other time I feel that uncomfortable thickness in my chest is when my parents are yelling at me about something I did wrong.
I know Luna isn’t about to yell at me, so I don’t want to find out whatever it is that comes after that.
“You can go inside and play with Nora if you want,” I suggest. “I’m going to catch some tadpoles.”
“I like to catch tadpoles.” Her voice is curious and excited as she slides off the dock and into the water. The splash is tiny, like she slipped underneath without disrupting the calm waters. She follows me up to the beach. I keep my back to her as I walk toward my pail, picking it up and walking around to the other side of the dock.
She follows.
“It’s not really a girl game.” I stare into the water, even though I know our most recent disturbance of the water means they are far away from here.
I just want her to go away. She’s making me feel funny.
I can feel the heat of her anger burning me in the back.
“Why not? I’ve caught tadpoles before! I bet I can do it better than you.”
I turn around and look at her. Her hands are on her hips, gripping her wet dress in her fingertips as she glares at me in outrage.
I lift my arm, pail swinging in my fingers. “Show me then. Catch a tadpole.” I taunt her with my tone. Nora has never been able to even come close to catching a tadpole. It’s hard formeto catch one.
This gangly girl in a wet dress doesn’t stand a chance.
But she does.