The pool was surprisingly empty for a sunny afternoon. Even so, Beth made her way to the deck beyond the deep end, far from the squeal and screech of the kiddie pool. She spread her towel, lay down, and opened her magazine.

“Hey, kid, where yuh think you’re goin’?”

Beth turned from her magazine to see what was going on. It was Brad pestering some seventh grader.

“High dive,” the kid said, taking a step up the ladder.

“Gotta be 15 to use the boards,” Brad said with a smirk.

“I am,” the kid said, taking another step up.

“Like hell you are,” Brad said. “Go back to the kiddie pool where you belong.”

“Leave’em alone, for cryin out loud,” Beth said. That Brad could be such a pest. Thinks he owns the pool. She turned back to her stomach and her magazine. She hadn’t made up her mind about Brad yet. Maybe he’d be the one. She was ready, but Brad could be a conceited jerk.

“What you waitin’ for?” Brad again.

Beth took a look. The kid was at the end of the board, looking down. Kind of a cute kid. She pressed herself to the beach towel. She had the feeling the kid was looking down at her. At her bottom. She knew the suit had edged into her crack. Maybe the kid could see her—

The splash was immense. The sound of it. The wet of it. Drenching her. After she’d stood up for him. The little fucker. She scrambled to the edge of the pool. The kid was just coming up. He paddled over.

“Look what you did!”

“What?”

“You wet me.”

“I didn’t. I mean ... I’m sorry. I didn’t think—”

“You did mean,” she said, drawing back her arm to whap him. Maybe because he looked so innocent. As she swung, he pulled back. She lost her balance and tumbled into the pool. Onto the kid. Her knee hitting his nose. Blood jetting. And they were in the water together. And he had his arms around her. And she had her arms around him. And she had her legs around him. And she could feel his ... And they were kissing. Kissing and kissing. And she could taste his blood. But she didn’t care. They just kept kissing.