My breath caught in my throat. People said those kinds of things about Sloane—not about me.
“What?” Frank asked, his eyes on mine.
“Just . . .” I took a shaky breath. “Nobody’s ever said something like that to me.”
“Then they don’t see what I see,” he said. I looked into Frank’s eyes and knew, without a doubt, that he meant every word. I started to say something when the chorus kicked in and Frank moved closer to me.
He was tall enough, even in my heels, that I could have rested my head on his shoulder. I swallowed hard, feeling the need to try and freeze the moment and sort through everything that was happening, and figure out just what I was feeling. Our faces were close enough that I could see the constellation of his freckles, his dark eyelashes, and smell that he was wearing some kind of cologne for the occasion—it smelled like cedar, like early mornings, and it made me want to step even closer and breathe him in.
Frank’s hand tightened on my waist, just a little bit, and it could have been just him moving with the music. But even though we weren’t looking at each other—even though we both seemed to be working very hard not to look at each other—I had a feeling he’d done it on purpose, and a moment later, he unclasped his hand from around mine and threaded my fingers through his.
I felt my heart pounding as I concentrated on staying upright and moving to the music, on the song that I knew was ending, any minute now, and I couldn’t tell if I wanted it to end right then, or keep playing on for days. I looked up at him, realizing again just how close we were, when the song ended and “Pour Some Sugar on Me” started. He dropped my hand and took a step away, and I looked away, pretending to straighten my dress, not exactly sure what had just happened.
“Hey!” Dawn was approaching us, a half empty water bottle in her hand, smiling at Frank. “When did you get here?” She looked around hopefully. “Is Matthew here too?”
“No,” Frank said, pointing at me. “I figured that one wedding crasher was enough.”
I nodded at Dawn’s water bottle. “Is there any way I could have some of that?”
“Sure,” she said, handing it over. “All yours.” She yawned and stretched her arms over her head. “I swear, I am never doing one of these again. It’s much better to be on the road and actually getting tips. Thank god this is finally over.”
“You’re done?” I asked as I lowered her bottle, realizing I’d just drunk all of it. Dawn nodded.
“You guys want to come to my place and hang out?” Frank asked, as he pulled out his phone. “I’m not sure if Collins had plans, but I can text him . . .”
“Cool,” Dawn said. “Sounds good.”
“Em?” Frank asked, looking over at me as he texted.
“Actually,” I said. I took a breath before speaking again, not quite able to believe I was about to suggest this. But I couldn’t think of a better time, or one when I’d be so willing to take a risk. “I had an idea . . .”
12
GO SKINNY-DIPPING
“I can’t believe this,” Collins said as we stood in a line on the sand, still fully dressed, and looked out at the water. “And this was Emily’s idea?”
“Yep,” I said, still getting my head around that fact myself. “It’s for the list.”
“Please,” Collins said, waving this away. “This is all just a grand scheme to check out my bod. You can admit it.”
“So, um,” Dawn said, twisting her hands together, sounding more nervous than I’d ever heard her, “do we have a plan? Like, are we going to go in one at a time while everyone else looks away? Or all at once? Or . . .”
“Emily?” Frank said, looking over at me with a smile, even though I could see he was blushing—which he really hadn’t stopped doing since I’d proposed this, back at the wedding.
Maybe it had been the hours of dancing, or the slow-dancing with Frank, or the fact that I’d been dehydrated, but skinny-dipping had sounded like such a good, easy option back then. But now, actually standing in front of the water and contemplating swimming in it naked—with my friends—things were no longer seeming quite so simple.
“Okay,” I said after a minute, when I realized that since I had proposed this thing, I couldn’t back down, and I needed to be the one to try and figure something out. I glanced up and wished, for the first time all summer, that the moon wasn’t quite so full. It was like having a giant spotlight shining down on us. I looked at the stack of four beach towels that Frank had brought out from the house and tried to sound more confident than I felt. “Okay. I think we should all put on the towels, and then we can go with the towels down to the water, and then throw them aside and jump in.” It seemed like the best plan I could think of for limiting out-of-the-water nudity.
“When did she get so bossy?” Collins muttered to Frank, shaking his head.
“I just think,” I started, “this way, we’ll all feel comfortable, and—”
“To heck with that,” Collins said as he kicked off his flip-flops and yanked off his polo shirt, getting it stuck briefly on his head. When he started to drop his shorts, I realized where this was going and turned away, and after a noticeable pause, Dawn did too. “Here I go!” I heard Collins yell, and I looked a second too soon, seeing Collins’s bare butt as he dove into the water. “Agh! That’s cold!” he yelled, then held his nose and ducked under. But he was grinning when he surfaced again, and waved us in. “Come on,” he called.
“I think I’m going to do the towel thing,” Dawn said, grabbing hers, and I took one as well.
“Me too,” I said.
I glanced at Frank’s neighbors’ houses, to make sure they were all staying dark, but it didn’t seem like we’d woken anybody up. Dawn and I walked a little bit up the beach, and I held up my towel for her, blocking her from view while she took everything off and wrapped herself in the towel, and then she did the same for me. I knew this was ridiculous, since we were going skinny-dipping, but I just didn’t think I was ready to run full-out buck naked toward the water Collins-style. By the time we headed back to the water, clutching our towels, Frank had gotten in as well, and was next to Collins in the water. I could just see their bare chests, and tried to tell myself I would have seen them anyway if we’d all been swimming, that it wasn’t a big deal. But I still felt my heart pound as the boys turned away so that Dawn and I could run in.
“Ready?” I asked, looking at her.
“I don’t know,” she said, shifting from foot to foot. She looked toward the water, biting her lip. “I’m not sure . . .”
“Come on.” I smiled at her. “It’ll be fun.” And without waiting, without thinking about it, I dropped my towel and ran toward the water, feeling the cool night air on my skin, feeling utterly free, my hair streaming out behind me, as I splashed into the water and then extended my arms above my head and dove under.
When I surfaced, I saw Dawn plunging into the water as well, doing more of a belly-flop than a dive, emerging with her hair plastered down. “That is cold!” she gasped, grinning at me. “Oh my god.”
But cold or not, the water felt amazing, and I realized just how different it was from swimming with a bathing suit on. It reminded me of sleeping under the stars—with nothing between you and the elements.
Soon, it just felt normal to be swimming together like this—you couldn’t really see anything under the water, anyway. The four of us would swim on our own and then come back together, and even when we were just treading water or standing with our feet touching the sand, talking, it felt that much more exciting, because I knew that under the water, we were all naked.
After we’d been in the water for a while, I swam apart from the group, out of view, so that I could just float on my back and look up at the sky. I was aware of Collins calling to us, saying that the C-dawg was getting out, and then the sound of splashing as he presumably made his way up to the beach. I let myself float there for just a little while, feeling really content and at peace. I was still a little amazed th
at this was happening. That this, the thing that had seemed so impossible, so terrifying, so utterly beyond me, was happening. I was having fun. And that I was the one who made it happen. “I did it,” I said out loud, sending my voice up to the stars above me, not really caring if the others heard me.
“Guys?” Dawn called, her voice sounding worried. I ducked under the water and surfaced again, smoothing my hair down and swimming over to her. “Where are our towels?”
I looked toward the beach as well, and saw what she meant. The towels that she and I had left there were nowhere to be seen. I could see my clothes, in a pile way up the beach, but the thought of running across that expanse of sand, naked, did not seem that appealing.
“Collins!” I yelled, as Frank swam over toward us.
“What’s the problem?” he asked.
“Our towels are gone,” I said, still scanning the sand for them.
“What?” Collins asked, emerging on Frank’s deck, dressed in shorts and an oversized sweater. I realized after a moment that I could tell they were Frank’s clothes.
“Are you wearing my clothes?” Frank yelled, and Collins shrugged.
“I was cold,” he called back. “Is there some sort of problem?”
“What did you do with the towels, Collins?”
“Me?” he asked, looking offended. “Nothing. Why would you presume it was me?”
“Who else would it be?” Dawn asked.
“I don’t know,” Collins said with a shrug. “Beach hobos? See you guys inside.” He gave us all a grin and disappeared back in the house.
“I’m going to kill him,” Frank muttered as he looked over at me. I hadn’t realized he’d come quite so close, and especially after we’d danced together, it was disconcerting to realize that Frank Porter was naked, right next to me. And that I was naked right next to him, with nothing separating us but water.
“I see them!” Dawn said, pointing. The towels were neatly folded, almost at the top of the beach by Frank’s steps. “Should we go one by one, or . . . ?”
“On the count of three, maybe?” Frank suggested.
“Let’s just go!” I yelled, as I splashed out of the water, running toward the beach. I was half yelling and half laughing as I went, feeling the warm night air on my skin. I heard splashing behind me and figured that Frank and Dawn had started running as well.
Someone crashed into me—it was Dawn, running with her eyes closed. “God! Sorry!” she yelped as she changed direction, and started running toward Frank’s neighbor’s house.
“Dawn,” I called. I looked around, just to try and see if I was heading in the right direction, and saw Frank’s bare back in the moonlight, then immediately looked away again. I ran faster, then realized I was reaching the towels at the same time as Frank. “Sorry,” I said as we both turned away, but not before I saw a full view of those abs that I’d only gotten glimpses of before.
Some part of me realized how absurd this was, Frank and I standing next to each other—naked—neither of us sure where to look or who was going to get a towel first. I kept looking over at him, then immediately looking away, trying not to see too much, but getting quick flashes—Frank’s chest, his jawline, his hipbone . . .
I crossed my arms over my chest and turned my head just slightly to see that Frank was looking away. “I’ll get a towel first?” I asked, and he nodded. I grabbed one from the pile and wrapped it around me. I took another for Dawn, who was still running in the wrong direction, weaving up the beach.
“Got it,” I said to Frank, and then turned my head away before I saw anything else. “Dawn!” I yelled to her, holding out the towel in front of my face. “Come toward my voice!”
“Thank you,” Dawn said as she hurried over to me and took the towel. “I couldn’t see where I was going!”
“Who knows, the Farrellys probably wouldn’t have minded,” Frank said as he came over to us, his towel riding low on his hips. I felt myself swallow hard, thinking of the full glimpse I’d just gotten, and also wondering if there was a way I could suggest that he maybe stop wearing a shirt on our runs.
“I’ve got your clothes,” Dawn said, snapping me out of this and making me realize I was still staring at Frank’s bare chest.
“Right,” I said, suddenly feeling very warm, despite the fact the water had been cold and I’d been shivering a few minutes ago. We headed up to the deck, where Collins was now standing, a mug in his hand and a satisfied smile on his face.
“I’m going to kill you,” Frank told him matter-of-factly.
“Oh, come on. Admit it, that was much more fun,” Collins said. “The real skinny-dipping experience. You’re all welcome. Now, who wants hot chocolate?”
By the time I pulled into my driveway, it was almost light out. Frank had found clothes for me, since I really didn’t want to attempt to get back into a formal dress after an ocean swim—a soft pair of gray sweatpants, and the academic decathlon shirt he’d worn the first day we’d gone running together. We ended up just sitting around Frank’s kitchen island, drinking the hot chocolate Collins had made, and then finally just eating all the marshmallows, until it was almost five. Then Dawn and I headed home, Collins crashed on Frank’s couch, and Frank waved good night to us from his doorway.
I killed the engine and caught my reflection in the rearview mirror. My hair was in tangles, and the wedding makeup I’d worn was half washed off, half smeared under my eyes. But my cheeks were flushed and even though I looked like a mess, I looked happy. I looked like someone who’d had a night, and had a story to tell about it. Which was, I realized as I collected my dress and heels in my arms and made my way, yawning, to the front door in the cool early light, exactly what had happened.
13
THE BACKLESS DRESS. AND SOMEWHERE TO WEAR IT
“Hello?” I answered my phone without opening my eyes. It was two days after we’d gone skinny-dipping, and far too early to be awake if I wasn’t going to be out running. And since Frank had gone camping with Collins, I wasn’t running—which meant I should still be sleeping.
“Morning,” Frank said, far too cheerful in the morning as usual, and I rolled onto my side, eyes still closed, holding my phone up to my ear.
“Hey,” I said, smiling. “How’s the camping trip?”
“Uh,” Frank said. “Have you looked outside yet?” I suddenly became aware of a steady, rhythmic sound hitting the window and roof. I opened my eyes and pushed my bedroom curtains aside. The sky was gray and there was rain beating down against my window.
“Oh,” I said, leaning back against my pillows. “So I take it the camping trip is off?” I asked.
“Off,” Frank confirmed. “And Collins is really upset about it, for some reason.”
“Well,” I said, glancing out to the rain again. Even if they put it off for a day, I had a feeling the ground might be too wet to camp successfully. “Maybe you guys can reschedule?”
“I was thinking the same thing,” he said, and even though I couldn’t see him, I was pretty sure he was smiling. “Are you busy tonight?”
“No,” I said slowly, not sure what I would be letting myself in for by admitting this. “Why?”
“I’m going to text you an address,” he said. “And see if Dawn’s free too.”
“Okay,” I said, and waited for some more information, but apparently none was going to be forthcoming. “What is this?” I finally asked.
“You’ll see,” he said, and he was definitely smiling now, I was sure of it. “Be there at nine. And you might want to bring a sleeping bag.”
“You’re sleeping over at Dawn’s again?” my mother asked, blinking at me. She and my father both had the bleary-eyed look of people who had spent too much time in front of their computer screens.
“Yeah,” I said, trying to tell myself that this was only a slight tweaking of the facts. I still didn’t even know what Frank had invited me to, but like the night of the wedding and skinny-dipping, I knew that telling my mother I had a s
leepover would at least buy me a late night out, no questions asked. Or so I had thought. “Is that okay?”
“Fine with me,” my dad said, pushing his glasses up on top of his head and rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Just make sure you have her over here too, to thank her. Okay?”
I nodded, thrilled that this had been so easy. “Sure,” I said. “Great.”
I started to go when I realized my mother was still looking at me, her head tilted slightly to the side. “When’s Sloane back, Em?”
“Oh,” I said, surprised by the question. “I—I’m not exactly sure.”
“Sloane,” my dad said, leaning back in his chair and shaking his head. “Is she doing okay?”
I looked at him, completely confused by this. “Why wouldn’t she be?”
“She just always seemed a little . . . lost to me,” he said. I was about to take a breath, try and refute this, since it was the opposite of everything I’d ever thought about her, but my dad was putting his glasses back on and squinting at the computer. “Do we really have to have the death scene with the pigeon?” he asked with a sigh.
“You know we do,” my mother said, shaking her head and leaning closer to her own monitor. “I’m as happy about it as you are.”
Normally, I stayed out of my parents’ writing process. They either told me far more than I wanted to know, or got defensive if I asked the simplest questions. But I was not about to let this one slide. “Pigeon?”
My dad was already typing with one hand, and used the other one to point at my mom. “As Tesla was dying,” she started.
“In a hotel room,” my dad interrupted. “Can you think of anything sadder?”
My mom went on. “As he was dying, he kept telling people that he was in love with a pigeon outside his window.”
I just stared at them. “A pigeon.”
She nodded. “He said it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. That it could see into his soul. That it was special.” She started to type again as well, and I knew that I could go now, having secured my permission to go, and that my parents were a few seconds away from not even being able to tell if I was still in the room. But I didn’t think I could leave it like that. “And?” I asked. “Was it? Special, I mean?”