The Palmer Pool

2 | Broken Heels

Any second I would have to take a breath and water would rush in.  I pictured my lungs bursting like water balloons and released a little scream that came out shrill and tinny as I began kicking again.  Then warm dry air touched my hand and as soon as my face hit the surface, I gasped. I looked for Sophie or Laura, but saw only unfamiliar faces.  I swam for the ladder and climbed out of the water.

At first everything felt dreamlike, fuzzy around the edges and inexplicably off somehow.  But I knew I wasn't dreaming because I didn't only see what was happening; I felt everything, too. I felt a stream of cool water run from my hair down my back and I felt the sun break through the clouds and warm the droplets on my skin.  I decided I must have been lightheaded from a few moments of oxygen deprivation.

I gathered my long hair in my hands, leaned to the side and squeezed out the water. The familiar sound of water splattering on the concrete was missing, but I barely noticed because I was hit by a dizzying sense of déjà vu as I looked around and realized half the people at the pool were watching me.  I had the unsettling feeling that I'd been in the exact same scenario before; my cold feet on the warm cement, the early-afternoon position of the sun in the sky, the crowded pool full of gawking, unrecognizable faces.

I tugged at the edges of my swim suit to make sure it was still there and covering all the critical areas.  Then I realized that I was the only person there in a bikini.  All the other girls wore old-fashioned looking one-piece bathing suits and some who were swimming had on tight rubber swim caps.  But the guys all looked like they were walking around in their underwear.  I'd never seen so many guy thighs.  It was borderline obscene.  I caught myself with my mouth agape as I watched one walk past me wearing grey briefs with a pack of cigarettes tucked in the waistband.

I wondered if there was some new pool dress code I didn't know about, or if this had something to do with a senior prank.  The pool was suddenly a lot busier than a few seconds before when I had jumped in, and the chairs we'd skipped out of class for had already been stolen.  There was a guy sitting in the spot where I had left my towel and clothes.

In a short-sleeved button down shirt and grey pants, he was not dressed for swimming.  One of his bare feet was tapping the air as if to music only he could hear, and a pair of scuffed brown shoes with white socks balled up in them sat on the ground at his side.  He was laughing with two other guys sitting on either side of him.  One was kind of lanky, with sandy blonde hair slicked neatly away from a deep side part and the other was stockier, with short brown hair and a wide, lopsided grin.

Trying to cover as much of myself with my arms as I could, I stepped toward them.  Only the one on my chair looked up and warm recognition flashed in his eyes. I didn't know him, but he seemed familiar somehow.  But it couldn't have been from school.  If he went to my school I would have known, because he had a face that demanded attention:  full lips, deep brown eyes framed with expressive eyebrows that were raised in anticipation.

"Hi," he nodded, with a slight smile.

I took another step forward.

"Hey," I said as I glanced down and as if everything was happening in slow motion, I noticed that the drops of water falling from me evaporated before even touching the cement.  It must have been scorching outside, but I had the chills.  "I left my towel on your chair, can I-"

"Sorry, I didn't see anything when we got here," he said as he searched around his chair.  He was right; I didn't see my towel or my bag anywhere.

I quickly scanned the pool deck to make sure I was in the right spot and saw all those curious eyes still boring into me.  His gaze followed mine and then he grabbed a white towel from the back of his friend's chair.