Page 5 of The Summer List

Priya is hunched forward in her chair now, a few strands of her thick, dark hair escaping from her ponytail to fall against the halter strap of her dark green bathing suit.

The amount of time I spent noticing how pretty Priya is was one of the tipping points that made me start Googling ‘Am I gay?’ quizzes once we reached junior high. I even had a little crush on her at one point, but I think mostly I felt like I had to have a crush on someone to make being a lesbian a real thing.

By the time I was ready to start coming out in the tenth grade, I knew I only saw her as a friend, but the fact that I’d even considered her as anything else made me feel like some kind of gross predator. The guilt was so bad she ended up being the last person I came out to on my list of People Who Should Know when she should have been the first.

Internalized homophobia kind of sucks like that.

“This is new and fun, isn’t it?” Priya demands. “We’re swimming at a mansion. Why do I need to do anything more exciting than that?”

Shal gives her a deadpan stare. “Use that big brain of yours to think bigger.”

Priya makes a face, and Shal retaliates by sending a splash of cold water over to douse her lap. Priya shrieks, and the two of them end up locked in a sibling battle that escalates to running laps around the grassy backyard while Shal snaps a wet towel at Priya’s legs and threatens to whoop her ass.

I make an ungraceful exit from my donut floatie and stand on the cement pool deck with my arms crossed. I shout at them to be careful not to knock Peter and Sandy’s statue collection over, but I still end up laughing as I watch Shal nearly trip over a hose the gardener left out.

In addition to the gardener, I will also be getting regular visits from the lawn mower guy, the pool cleaner guy, and the lady who clips the cats’ nails. Thankfully, the cat nail lady is the only one I actually have to talk to.

Priya hunches over and wheezes that she can’t breathe anymore. Shal delivers a triumphant whack of the towel to her butt and prances back over to me.

“What about you, Naomi?” she asks. “Are you going to disappoint me with your summer plans too?”

My summer plans consist of floating in the pool, finding the best reading spot in the house, and getting in my hours at the part-time data entry job I applied to for the summer because the ad said I could work from home.

“And don’t say you think the pool should count too,” Shal adds with a fake glower, like she just read my mind.

“Um…” I eye the towel still coiled in her hands as Priya comes over and makes a show out of groaning and rubbing her butt. “What about skinny dipping in the pool? Does that count?”

I was just looking for a way to make the pool sound interesting enough to avoid getting smacked by the towel, but Shal turns the sinful smirk that gets her invited to every party on me.

“Oooh, who knew little Naomi Waters is actually a hardcore exhibitionist?”

My cheeks heat up. “I am not an exhibitionist. This property has literally been landscaped for maximum privacy. I just think maybe it would feel, you know, liberating, or whatever.”

Shal scoffs. “Sure. Okay. Liberating.”

Then she reaches up to cup her boobs and does a sensual swivel motion that somehow includes her hips and her chest.

Priya barks a laugh. “What are you even trying to do, you idiot?”

Shal keeps undulating as she walks over to pick up a dry towel and then leads the way back into the house. She makes a show out of tossing her damp hair around, and when she answers Priya, it’s in a dramatic, husky voice.

“I’m being a liberated woman. It’s not something you would understand.”

Priya rolls her eyes as we step up onto the wide wooden deck that spans the back of the house. Of course, the deck also includes a barbeque station that looks like something out of a prime-time cooking show. A canvas awning blocks the sun and casts the expensive-looking patio furniture in cool shade.

We enter the house through the sliding glass door to the kitchen. The appliances are huge and made of gleaming stainless steel, set among navy blue cupboards and marbled grey countertops.

“Watch for the cats!” I call as I step inside.

In the day and a half I’ve been here, the cats haven’t shown any interest in escaping the house, but Sandy made it sound like their flesh would burst into flames if even a single ray of direct sunlight touched their skin, so I’ve been extra careful.

Shal cranes her neck to glance around the kitchen after sliding the door closed behind me. “I don’t see them anywhere. When do we get to meet them?”

“They’re probably still asleep in the igloo.”

Priya pauses in the middle of climbing onto one of the stools lining the island. “The…igloo? Does this house have its own igloo?”

“That’s what Sandy calls their heated cat bed,” I explain. “It kind of does look like an igloo.”

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