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you're really good at it and it's working out too well for you.”
    She followed me to her feet. Her hands landed on her hips. “No,” she said softly. “If you're gay, you can tell me. I wouldn't tell anyone else.”
    “I want to know why you're asking me this,” I said through gritted teeth.
    “I don't know,” she huffed. Her chest rising and falling quickly. “You always dress so well—better than girls—and you have such a weird friendship with Maggie. I've never seen you with a girl or even heard Maggie mention you dating someone. Don't be such a homophobe, it was an honest question.”
    “First, you assume I'm gay and now you accuse me of being a homophobe. Which is it, Clara?” I groaned. I might love her, but right this moment I’d never been more pissed at her. “I have a question for you. Are you gay?”
    She blinked up at me. “What?”
    “Where's your boyfriend? Where are all of your girl friends? I haven't seen you with either. You certainly excelled at being a tomboy growing up. And even now, even when you go to the pool—” I glanced deliberately down at her one-piece swimsuit. It looked like something she’d bought from Goodwill. It was beautiful on her because she was beautiful. But something nicer wouldn’t have killed her. “You can't dress for shit. So why don’t you satisfy my curiosity…are you a lesbian? If you are, you can tell me. I wouldn't tell anyone else.”
    She yawned. She actually yawned! And she started acting as if talking to me was the most boring thing imaginable. Her eyes were cold as she said one last thing to me. “Grow up.” Then she dropped to sit and fell back down onto her towel.
    “We will never get along,” I groaned, glaring down at her. “Because you will never stop infuriating me. If you must know, I came to the pool today because I wanted some company—or at least the illusion of it—but I'd prefer being alone to being with you.”
    “You're blocking my sun,” she replied, indifferent.
    I groaned again, even louder this time. “You're insufferable. I hope your milky-white skin burns. And buy a bikini. You aren't eighty or fat, so I don't get why you're always wearing that damn thing.”
    She let out a slow, bored breath. “This suit used to be my mother's, asshole. Now can you please move? You really are blocking my light.”
    For once in my life words failed me. I couldn’t win with Clara. No wonder she hated me. When we fought, I always ended up saying something nasty, something I couldn’t take back. I walked away, wishing everything could be different between us.
    I scrubbed my skin under scalding water, scrubbing off that memory. Then I very quickly towel dried, picked out a fresh suit, and got ready. Not bothering with my bags because I wasn’t sure when I’d be back here again, I hurried downstairs. By the time I was locking the front door, it had been almost twenty minutes since Regina told me the time. I skipped down the stone front steps, heading straight for the waiting car in my driveway. My heart was in my throat and one thing was on my mind.
    Would Clara be in that car?
    By all means, she had every right in the world not to be. I fully expected her not to be. I yanked open the door and slipped inside. And my heart expanded.
    She was there. She was fucking there.
    We didn’t even make eye contact as I settled into my seat. No words were exchanged. Regina told the driver we could leave and the car started to move. On the outside—I was my normal calm, slightly detached self. On the inside—my heart was wild, raging, screaming. Regina started talking business on the drive to the airport. I listened. I responded. I played the part I was born to play. But my heart was with the girl sitting across from me in the rumpled black dress. Words couldn’t describe how happy I was that she had come with me. Even if she ignored me all weekend long…this meant something.
    Two hours later the plane landed at JFK airport. I noticed I had