Page 11 of The Breaking Point

“Come on.” I waved Brady over.

He finally waded toward me. When his arm brushed me, I nearly came out of my skin. I couldn’t look at him as he tried to start floating.

I had to help him the first few tries. He got frustrated easily, and I didn’t know how I managed to keep him from stomping inside after his third attempt resulted in him kicking and flailing.

“Don’t! You’ll make it worse,” I said.

“This is stupid,” Brady just kept saying.

But on the fourth try, he floated. I could tell he was uncomfortable, but he didn’t say as much.

After that, he let me show him how to dog paddle. He was better at that, but when his mouth dipped below the water, he burst upward and returned to the steps.

“That’s enough,” he said, breathing hard.

I went to stand next to him. “Good job. You’ll get better the more you practice.”

After we got out of the pool, Brady’s gaze took in my wet, swimsuit-clad body, and I wanted to melt into the ground. I instantly regretted doing this.

He probably thought I looked like a silly, chubby baby. I hadn’t even gotten my period yet like some of the other girls in my grade. People tended to think I was younger than I was, and maybe Brady did, too.

“I’ll see you later,” I said and hurried inside, not caring I was dripping water throughout the house as I ran upstairs.

That evening, I braided my hair and put on some lip gloss and eye shadow. I knew I couldn’t put on too much or Dad would freak out. I was almost late to dinner. By the time I came downstairs, everyone sat at the table, waiting for me.

Brady didn’t even look my way. Ben stared at me, his forehead creased like he didn’t recognize me.

“You look nice,” Mom said as I sat down. “Are you wearing makeup?”

“Makeup? Since when do you own any makeup?” Dad responded.

I turned bright red. “Dad ...”

“She’s too young for that kind of thing,” Dad kept saying to Mom. “Did you buy her some?”

“Honey, she got some in her stocking for Christmas. It’s just for fun.” Mom looked over at me. “You look very pretty, sweetheart.”

I felt even more embarrassed at my mom’s kindness. I wished I’d never put on the stupid stuff. And it wasn’t like Brady was even paying attention to me.

“You look weird,” said Ben as he leaned closer toward me. “Babies don’t wear makeup.”

I was close to crying when Dad told Ben to knock it off. Ben shrugged, unfazed.

What was worse was that Brady ignored me the entire dinner. I wanted to tell everyone about me teaching him to swim, but I bit my tongue. I could tell Brady didn’t want to talk about it.

Was he embarrassed he’d let a girl help him? Or worse, was he just embarrassed of me in general?

I probably looked like an idiot, with my hair all braided and with all this makeup on. I swiped at a tear, but I refused to let any boy see me cry.

I went straight to my room after dinner, despite Mom trying to get me to stay downstairs to watch TV. I lied and said I wanted to read my book.

Instead, I flopped onto my bed and hugged my pillow close.

Boys are stupid,I reminded myself.Don’t let them ruin everything.

I must’ve dozed off, because when I woke up, it was almost dark outside. I heard someone open a door and then walk down the hallway. I usually could tell the difference between my family members’ footsteps. Mom was quick and light; Dad was slow and heavy; Ben was a combination of them both.

But these footsteps ... they sounded like somebody didn’t want to be noticed.

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