Chapter 6

Margaret finished her second drink, made a third, and went out to the pool. Even without Andre, Anthony, or Jennifer being there, the mansion wasn’t a private place. Margaret never knew who might show up, and there was always some staff lurking about, so she never wore a skimpy bathing suit.

Today, Margaret was thinking about Sammy, and that made her want to be naked in the sun. That wasn’t an option, so under the sundress was the skimpiest bikini Margaret owned. The alcohol eased her sense that someone was watching and judging as she removed the dress.

With the chair reclined as far as it could go without impeding her ability to drink, Margaret laid down. The warm rays on her exposed pale flesh seemed like an illicit touch, making her nipples tingle under the tiny patches of material.

The smell of chlorine and the sound of birds, and the hum of the filtration system stirred something in Margaret’s mind. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. There was the faint scent of grass being cut in the distance.

The public pool from her childhood immediately seemed real. Margaret’s skin itched thinking about the smoldering Texas sun. She could hear Sammy’s flip-flops flapping as they approached the gate.

In the distance, loud voices, shouting, smaller kids screeching as they jumped from the diving board, splash, and a warning chirp from a lifeguard’s whistle. Margaret smiled, wiggled her toes, and pictured Sammy hopping and cursing her way across the blistering concrete toward the pool.

“She’s a foul mouth little hellion,” Margaret’s mother used to say. “I don’t think you should be hanging out with her.” Margaret laughed, knowing Samantha’s mother said the same things about her.

Margaret’s random memories jumped about from one day to another in a different year. At the same time, all of the emotions associated with each memory came to life. Joy, fear, excitement, anger, lust, and hate made Margaret want to laugh, cry, and scream all at once.

She opened her eyes and reminded herself it was still her yard. Tears simmered just below the surface, so she pictured Sammy kicking Farty-Marty in the nuts because he snapped her bra strap against her back.

God, Margaret thought, Samantha hated that bra. It was over a year before Margaret even had a trainer, and a year later, they were both ditching their bras and stashing them in their lockers until it was time to go home. How many times had one of them said, shit, I forgot my bra.

My mother is going to kill me? Margaret would always offer Samantha hers, and Samantha would always hit her and say, “You’re flat as a board.” Margaret would say, “But not easy to screw,” and they’d crack up in the back of the school bus.

Margaret laughed, sipped her drink, and closed her eyes again, letting her mind go to things that were so profound and life-altering, yet long forgotten and never thought of, as if they never happened. To think of them required you to relive them as if they were happening anew. Margaret’s heart beat a little faster and her stomach fluttered at the memory.

At the end of another hot day at the pool, they were leaving, flip-flops flapping as they walked with towels around their necks and shorts and t-shirts over their damp bathing suits. In the parking lot, Sammy said, “Hold up.” Her expression was serious as she twisted nervously at the waist. Maggie leaned against a Ford Explorer and asked, “What?”

Sammy stepped closer, and the look in her eyes answered Maggie’s question.

Without denting in the side of the Explorer, she couldn’t back up anymore. The kind of fear that twists your insides when the scary music starts during a horror movie hit Maggie. Her cheeks flushed. The SUV was the only thing holding her up. She barely noticed the press of Sammy’s chest against hers. Sammy said, “Don’t be afraid.”

Maggie felt helpless to avoid the approaching lips, so full and moist. Their noses touched, Sammy’s head turned, and Maggie’s eyes closed. Her lips parted for Sammy’s tongue, and all the hype about “French kissing” turned out to be true.

Time stopped until the kiss suddenly ended. Sammy was walking away before Maggie opened her eyes. Flooded with emotion, tears filled Maggie’s eyes as she slid down the car. She hugged her legs and cried because what she felt could only be one thing.

Katie Perry hadn’t yet kissed a girl, but that night, Maggie lay on her bed listening to Jill Solule’s I Kissed a girl while asking herself, what does this mean?