A Smidgen of Sky Read Free Page A

some?”
    I wrinkled my nose. “No.”
    â€œHow come? It’s pretty.”
    â€œIt’s dog ugly.”
    â€œYou’re dog ugly.”
    â€œAt least I don’t wear a size-seven shoe,” I snapped back, but even as I said it, I knew I was mad at Mama and not Ginger.
    Ginger screwed the cap back onto the tube of glitter. I crawled into the shade under the trampoline, yanked a long blade of grass, and stuck it into the side of my mouth.
    â€œA dog probably peed on that,” Ginger said, peering down.
    â€œYou don’t have a dog.”
    â€œNeighbor dog, maybe.”
    I heard Mama start up Ol’ Faithful. It roared all the way down Hillman Lane before the silence closed in. Stuck again. “So what do you want to do today?”
    â€œSwimming sounds good.”
    I perked up a little. “Can we?”
    â€œHey, Daddy,” Ginger called. “When you get through with the car, can you take us swimming?”
    His answer drifted back with the breeze. “I s’pose so.”
    Ginger smiled, but right then I remembered I didn’t have my swimming suit with me. “Oh, shoot. My suit’s at home.”
    â€œI’ll find you some shorts,” she said.
    The thought of wearing Ginger’s stuff made me feel weird, but I did want to go swimming. “Yeah, okay.”
    â€œBut first I have to practice this cheer once more.”
    â€œYou know, by the time you get in high school, the cheers are gonna be different.”
    She bounced to her feet. “So?”
    I covered my ears.
    â€œGimme an
A.
Gimme a
B.
Gimme a real
VIC-TOR-Y.
”
    The trampoline stretched down real low by my head. I scrambled out from underneath just in time.
    A few minutes later we trooped upstairs to Ginger’s bedroom. She dug a pair of yellow shorts and a halter top out of her dresser. “These okay?”
    The yellow shorts made me think about my bridesmaid’s dress. “Yeah. Thanks.”
    Ginger peeled off her shirt. She had on one of those training bras I’d seen in the J. C. Penney catalog—white, with a tiny butterfly in the middle. “Where’d you get that?”
    â€œBought it with my allowance.”
    â€œDoes your daddy know?”
    â€œNot yet.”
    I studied my nubby fingernails. I wanted to ask more about it without acting too interested. I didn’t have much need for a bra yet. Then again, Ginger didn’t either. I’d ask Mama about getting me one. I scooped up the shorts and halter top and headed for the bathroom.
    An hour later the three of us were on our way to Glen Bay Beach. I’d been there only a few times. Mama and I usually went to the main swimming beach at Shady Hollow. But I liked Glen Bay better—it had the little island.
    Ben parked the truck near a big mass of saltwort on the edge of the shore. I left my shoes in the cab and slid out, loving the gritty feel of sand between my toes. We walked over to about twenty feet from the water and spread out our beach towels.
    Ben pulled his T-shirt over his head and headed for the water. As if on second thought, he turned toward us and took a couple of steps backwards. “Y’all stick right close to shore, you hear?”
    I sifted a little pile of sand onto each corner of my towel in case a gust of wind tried to grab it. Ginger plunked down onto hers. “You still wearing that training bra?” I asked.
    â€œNo, silly. You don’t wear a bra with a swimming suit.”
    My face got hot. “I knew that. I just wondered, is all.”
    â€œBet you didn’t know boys’ swim trunks have the underwear built right in.”
    â€œI guess you figured that out when you bought yourself a pair.”
    She wrinkled her nose at me and stretched out on her towel.
    â€œAren’t you gonna swim?” I asked.
    â€œYeah, but I have to lie here in the sun and get real hot first or else the water’s too cold.”
    â€œDon’t