Pool Boys Read Free Page A

compliment again by claiming to be fat, will you give me permission to chop you up and bury you on the golf course?”
    Charlotte stood up straight and saluted, deliberately splashing water on Caleb’s knees. “Permission granted.”
    “Hey!” He laughed and scooted away. “Damn. That is cold.”
    “Once you’re in, it gets better. I’m gonna do one more lap. My shrink says exercise is good for me.” She launched into the water again.
    Charlotte hadn’t been able to joke around about therapy at first. She hadn’t told Brooke and Georgia that she was even seeing a shrink until after her second session, post-divorce last year. Not because she was worried they would think she was a loon (they already knew that), butmostly because she wondered if they’d be hurt. After all, who needed a shrink when you’ve shared everything with your two best friends since the age of diapers?
    Surprisingly, Brooke had been the first to speak up. “I think this is exactly what you need to do, sweetie,” she’d said, squeezing Charlotte’s hand. (This from the girl whose tenth-grade yearbook quote was: “Life is far too important a thing to talk seriously about.” —Oscar Wilde.) And Charlotte began to realize Brooke was right. The difference between best friends and therapists? Best friends could and should constantly surprise you. Therapists couldn’t and shouldn’t. Dr. Gilmore was no exception. He’d worn the exact same paisley bow tie to every single session, now going on number fifty-four.
    Charlotte reached the shallow end again, allowing her feet to touch the pool floor. She rubbed the water from her hair and eyes. Caleb was staring at Valerie now, though pretending not to. And Brooke was pretending to read Elle , and pretending not to watch Valerie and Marcus as well. Georgia was hurrying into the cabana to change, obviously about to meet Ethan on the tennis courts.
    Caleb crouched down beside Charlotte, sitting on the edge of the tile and sticking his feet into the water. He eased them down very slowly, up to his knees, and then cringed, as if it were torture.
    “You really are a wimp,” Charlotte teased.
    “Well, not all of us can be lifeguards.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “By the way, have you met…?” He didn’t bother to finish the question.
    “Sort of. I said hello to him, anyway. I still have yet to say hi to her.”
    Caleb glanced up at the lifeguard chair, and then returned his gaze to the water. He kicked his feet absently. “She seems pretty cool.”
    “Really? Have you talked to her?”
    “No. This is the first time I’ve seen her.”
    “Easy there, Caleb. You’re drooling.”
    “That’s because of you , Charlotte,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You know, I still haven’t gotten over that game of Spin the Bottle.”
    Charlotte laughed in spite of herself. “Funny. I was just thinking about that.”
    “You were?” He puffed out his skinny chest. “I was that good, huh?”
    “Don’t flatter yourself, stallion. Actually I was thinking about how when we made out, you were the last thing on my mind.”
    “Thanks,” Caleb said flatly. “I appreciate it.”
    “I didn’t mean it like that. I was just thinking…I don’t know.”
    “Very articulate,” he mused.
    “Hey, go easy on me. I got a C-minus in English this year.”
    “It’s not your fault. You had Mr. Lowry. The guy’s a sadist.”
    “No kidding,” she grumbled. Charlotte stretched out and kicked her feet to keep warm. “Anyway, enough about the Tombs. It’s summer. No school talk.”
    “Agreed. May the Tombs rest in peace. So what’s with Brooke? She seems bummed.”
    “I think it’s because—” Charlotte bit her lip. She was about to say: This new girl is stealing her thunder , but that wasn’t fair to Brooke. Besides, Brooke may not have been bummed, she may have been deeply involved in an article in Elle , a brilliant piece about the “25 Most Creative Ways to Wear Swarovski