Page 19 of Old Acquaintances

“I’m changing into shorts, and yes, you are. Give me my bag.”

He sets in on his lap and unzips it.

“Tucker!”

He brushes my hand away. “I’ll get it for you. What do you want?” He holds up my bikini top. “I hope we don’t see any children at the beach, Jesus Christ.”

“Donotgo through my stuff!” I tug on my seatbelt.

“What is this?” He holds up a bag with my menstrual cup.

I push off the floor of the car and reach hands back to strangle him.

He moves my bag out of reach and holds me off with one hand. He swings a pair of underwear around, before digging further. His face lights up. “Found your condoms! Who do you plan on fucking this week?”

“They’re packets of Advil, youdick!”

I unbuckle my seat belt, and Johnny grabs the back of mypants. “Ella, sit down!”

I scramble to the backseat as Tucker snorts a laugh. I fall into his lap when the car slows down. He holds my underwear out of reach, so I crawl up his body to snatch it back, my chest pressing into his face.

He lifts my knee. “Ow, ow, that’s my penis, that’s my penis -”

I knee him harder in the groin.

“Ella!” He tosses me into the seat beside him. “Damn.” He covers his crotch and passes over my belongings.

Johnny calls back, “Hey animals, I’m not getting pulled over because you two can’t get your shit together.”

“He started it,” I grumble, my hand pressed into the back of the driver’s seat. I pull out a pair of shorts and start unbuckling my jeans.

Tucker snaps, “This is why people say we have a weird dynamic.”

“I haven’t spoken to you in seven years, so I don’t know what people say about us. Frankly, there is nous.” I sit sideways in the seat next to him and fling my sneakers off.

Johnny adds, “Serena used to say that if you two didn’t keep your hands off each other then we might actually seem like a normal friend group.”

“Tucker and I were never friends,” I remind. I rest my legs across his lap, and Tucker turns his head in the opposite direction when I start wiggling out of my jeans. “Pull on my pant leg.”

He says, “Yes, I’ve never had afriendask me to do that before. But I’ve had to help you undress on more than one occasion.” He tugs on the bottom of my pants while staring out of the window.

“What?” Johnny laughs.

I replay the words Tucker just said.

I can think of a few harmless occasions where Tucker has had to help with my clothes – Halloween costume, snowsuit, ballet tutu – but one suggestive event comes to mind, and I hope Johnny doesn’t make the connection that’s flashing through my brain.

I know Tucker’s eyes have found their way to mine. I know they have. I can’t look at him.

“He’s joking,” I lie. I push my jeans down my thighs and Tucker tugs on the other end. Hattie’s voice rings in my ears.

“You can’t act like this in front of them, Ella,” she would always say. “They’re not your girlfriends. They’reboys. You can’t walk around half-naked or say whatever you want. You’re going to make it weird!”

I had one strange excuse.

“I don’t act like that in front of Johnny,” I told her. “Just Tucker.” As if that made it okay. Because Tucker and I…not friends.

I try to steady my breath. My bare legs are sprawled across his scratchy jeans and his hot hands rest on my shins. My legs are toned and lean, thanks to a lifetime of dance, a hobby my mother insisted upon because of my friendships.

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