WHEN I WAKE UP, I KNOW THAT I HAD A BAD dream, but I can’t remember what it was. I’m lying in bed trying to piece it back together when Reeve calls.
“Come over,” I say, rolling onto my side.
“I’ll stop by after I go work out my legs at the school pool.”
Hearing that makes me nervous. I sit up in bed. “Your leg isn’t hurting, is it?” Reeve’s been working out so hard these last few weeks, following the coach’s plan so he’ll be fully ready for the prep school’s summer session.
“Don’t worry. It’s fine. I’m just being proactive.”
“You’d tell me, though, right? If it was hurting you?” I wonder if I’ll ever not feel guilty for what happened to Reeve on homecoming night.
“You sound like my mom,” Reeve says, laughing.
I make a tsk sound. “Well, we both care about you, dummy!” He’s right, though. Mrs. Tabatsky and I are both on him about not pushing himself too hard. And we’re both a little obsessed with Reeve’s protein intake.
I know Reeve was just joking, but I’m still thinking about it an hour later, when I’m sitting in the kitchen eating cinnamon toast and fingering the necklace he gave me yesterday. No girlfriend in the world wants to be compared to her boyfriend’s mother. That’s the opposite of hot.
So I get an idea to surprise Reeve at the pool, for old times’ sake.
If only I had a new bikini to wear. Something Reeve hasn’t seen me in. Nadia’s downstairs watching a movie, so I sneak into her room and go through her drawers. I find a brand-new one that she bought at the end of last season. It’s a tiny triangle top and a skimpy bottom in iridescent lavender, the kind of bikini I’ve only ever seen girls wear in Miami. At the time, I tried to veto it, because I felt like it was a bit much for her, but she acted like I was being a prude. She clearly never wore it, though, so she must have agreed with me deep down.
I change into it and check myself out in Nadia’s mirror. I tug at the bottom so it covers a little more. It’s definitely sexier than any bikini I’ve ever owned, but at least Reeve won’t be comparing me to his mom anymore.
