Summer of the Geek (13 page)

“Clowns are incredibly creepy!” Charlie said. “They paint smiles on their faces! Who does that?”

“Remember that time when you slept over at my house, and I convinced you that a clown lived under my bed?” I said, giggling.

“Yes, I remember. I didn’t sleep for a week straight. Thanks for that,” Charlie said. “And stop trying to change the subject.”

“Okay, okay,” I said, sighing. “I’ll take Amelia to the pool tomorrow. Even though I think I’ll probably live to regret it.”

As Dex and I walked Willow on the beach that evening, I told him about my talk with Mrs. Fisher.

“She sounds pretty tightly wound,” Dex said.

“She is, a bit,” I said.

We held hands, our fingers lined loosely together. Willow stopped every few steps to investigate an interesting smell or nudge a clump of seaweed with her long nose, slowing our progress down the beach.

“Poor Amelia,” Dex said.

“Her mom’s not that bad. She’s not mean to her.”

“She is putting a lot of pressure on Amelia, though. What if Amelia doesn’t want to be a star pianist? Is she going to be expelled from the family?”

A big wave crashed into shore, and the water lapped up over our bare feet. Willow, who hates to get her paws wet, leapt to the higher, dryer sand and froze, nose twitching. I had to tug her leash to get her moving again.

“Do your parents put pressure on you? To get good grades or to be good at lacrosse?” I asked.

Dex hesitated, and when I looked sideways at him, he had a strange expression on his face.

“My parents want me to do my best,” he finally said. “But they don’t put pressure on me to be the best. There’s a difference.”

“Is something wrong?”

“No, why?”

I shrugged. “Nothing.”

“How about your parents? Do they put pressure on you to be a math superstar?” Dex asked.

“Never,” I said, shaking my head. I found myself feeling unexpectedly grateful to my parents. Sure, they weren’t perfect—my mom was flighty and self-centered, my dad distant—but they’d never put pressure on me to be anyone other than who I am. Even when I first started at Geek Middle, it wasn’t because they were pushing me to become a world- famous mathematician. “Are you still up for giving Amelia swimming lessons?”

“Sure. When does she want to start?” Dex asked.

“Want might not be the right word. In fact, I have a feeling Amelia’s going to be resistant to the idea. But I was hoping we could start tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry. Women of all ages love me,” Dex said, with a cocky grin.

I stuck out my foot, intending to trip him as a punishment for his smugness, but Dex jumped deftly out of the way.

“Ha-ha,” he said. “And I have ninjalike reflexes.”

Just as the words left his mouth, another wave lapped up on shore. Willow skittered to the side, this time bumping into Dex’s legs and knocking him off balance. Dex fell sideways, landing on the soft, hot sand. He lay there for a few moments, blinking with confusion.

I grinned down at him. “Ninjalike reflexes, huh?”

“D
o you have a swimsuit?” I asked Amelia at lunch the next day.

Amelia looked at my suspiciously, but nodded and said, “Why?”

“I thought we might go to the pool today,” I said.

“I don’t want to go to the pool.”

“Why not? It’s going to get really hot today. A dunk in the water will feel great.”

“I can’t swim,” Amelia said flatly.

I shrugged. “You don’t really have to know how to swim just to paddle around in the shallow end. It’s not deep. You can stand up in it without any problem,” I said.

“What’s the point?”

“Fun?” I suggested. When she looked at me blankly, I sighed. “I thought you’d like it better than playing another board game.”

This time it was Amelia’s turn to shrug. “Not really.”

“Ah,” I said. “I get it.”

Amelia looked at me sharply. “Get what?”

“You’re afraid,” I said.

“Like that’s really going to work,” Amelia said, rolling her eyes.

“What do you mean?” I asked innocently.

“You think that by calling me chicken, you’ll manipulate me into going swimming,” Amelia said. “I’m not stupid, you know.”

I shook my heard. “No, you are definitely not stupid. But being afraid of something doesn’t mean you’re weak or bad. It’s just something you have to get past.”

“I’m not afraid!” Amelia exclaimed.

“Then why haven’t you ever learned how to swim?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I guess I’ve never really wanted to,” Amelia said defensively.

“You live in Florida. It’s ninety- five degrees outside. Who wouldn’t want to cool off in a pool unless they were afraid of the water?” I asked. “Anyway, it’s not a big deal. We can just play Monopoly. Again.”

Amelia groaned. “I
hate
Monopoly.”

“That’s why I suggested the pool. But it’s up to you. If you’d rather hang out here, that’s fine, too. Maybe we could try playing Jenga today,” I suggested, picking up my turkey sandwich and taking a bite.

We ate in silence for a few minutes. Finally, Amelia said, “Okay. Let’s go to the pool.”

“Great,” I said.

After lunch, Amelia found her bathing suit, and I changed into the one I had packed in my backpack, and together we biked over to the community pool.

Dex was on duty when we got there. I waved at him but didn’t stop to talk. He wasn’t supposed to socialize while he was in the chair and I didn’t want to get him in trouble. Dex grinned and gave me a thumbs-up when Amelia was turned away.

I did a quick scan of the chaise longues. Although there were a fair number of bikini-clad sunbathers, Wendy Erickson wasn’t among them, nor were Felicity and Morgan. I was glad. It was going to be hard enough to give Amelia a swim lesson—without her noticing that she was having a lesson—without doing it in front of a hostile audience.

We put our bags down and spread our towels over two chaise longues, and then I headed straight for the pool. It was a hot, muggy day out, and I’d worked up an uncomfortable sweat on the short bike ride to the pool. I couldn’t wait to get into the water and cool off. I was on the pool steps, ankle-deep, before I noticed Amelia wasn’t following me in. She was sitting on the chaise, still wearing her T-shirt and shorts, and looking absolutely terrified. I stepped out and walked back over to her.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

Amelia shrugged and stared resolutely down at her feet.

“Amelia?” I persisted.

“Remember how I said I wasn’t afraid of swimming?” she asked in a small voice.

“Yes,” I said.

“Well . . . I sort of lied,” Amelia said.

“You are afraid of the water?”

“Not so much of the water,” Amelia said. “It’s more that I’m afraid of
drowning
.”

“You’re tall enough to stand up in the shallow end. I don’t think there’s any real chance that you could drown.”

Amelia looked doubtful. “What if I slip and fall?”

“Then you just stand back up.”

“What if I slip and fall, and hit my head on the side of the pool, and get knocked unconscious so I can’t stand back up?” Amelia countered.

I pointed toward the lifeguard stand. “See that guy up there?”

Amelia squinted in Dex’s direction, shading her eyes with one hand. “You mean the lifeguard?”

“Yes. I know him. I promise he won’t let you drown. If you hit your head and get knocked unconscious, he’ll dive in the water and save you,” I said.

“What if he’s looking in the other direction, and doesn’t see me get knocked unconscious?” Amelia asked.

“Water safety
is
important, but I think you’re focusing on this getting knocked unconscious thing a little too much,” I said. “Especially since we’re just going to putter around the shallow end of the pool.”

I could tell Amelia still wasn’t convinced.

“Why don’t we just go over to the stairs and wade into the water slowly, one step at a time?” I suggested.

After a long hesitation, Amelia finally nodded. She shucked off her T-shirt and shorts, exposing a purple-striped tank suit, and then stood uncomfortably, her arms wrapped around her thin body. She was all painful angles—pointed elbows, narrow shoulders, sharp shoulder blades.

This time when I stepped in the pool, Amelia followed me in. I waded into the shallow end, where the water came up to my waist. But then I turned and saw that Amelia had frozen on the first step.

“Come on,” I encouraged. “The water’s really nice. It feels great.”

Amelia face had gone very pale, and her eyes were even larger and darker than usual. I tried to remember back to when I had first learned to swim. I had a vague memory of green water wings, and being hugely proud at the independence they had given me to float around by myself. It was too bad they didn’t make water wings for kids Amelia’s age, I thought. Then I had a brilliant idea.

I swam over to the edge of the pool, under the lifeguard chair.

“How’s it going?” Dex asked.

“So far, so good,” I said. “Are there any noodles around here?”

“Yeah. Back there by the office,” Dex said, pointing to a large plastic trunk. “There are noodles inside that box. Kickboards, too.”

“Perfect,” I said. I climbed out of the pool and, dripping water as I went, headed over to the trunk. A moment later, I returned with a long pink noodle. It really did look like a noodle—round, with a hole in the middle, and nearly as long as I was tall. It was made out of some sort of material that floated in the water. If you draped yourself over it, or threaded it through your arms, you floated, too.

I walked back to Amelia, who was still standing on the first step.

“I brought you a noodle,” I said, handing the pink floatie to her.

Amelia took the noodle from me, but looked at it blankly.

“It’ll help you float,” I said. I took the noodle back from her unresisting hands and waded back into the water. I leaned forward on the noodle, kicking my legs behind me, demonstrating its use.

“You try,” I suggested, stepping forward to hand her the noodle once more.

Amelia finally moved cautiously forward. Down one step, and then another, and another, until she was standing in the pool. Her body was stiff and her arms were raised up as though the chlorinated water might be toxic, but even so, she was in the pool. It was definite progress.

“Just put the noodle down and sort of lean forward on it,” I suggested.

Amelia hesitated, but finally set the noodle down on the water and cautiously leaned against it. Unfortunately, she started to tip forward and immediately panicked, flailing to right herself and succeeding only in falling face forward into the water. I rushed to her side just as she righted herself, wet hair flattened against her face, her eyes glittering with unshed tears.

“I want to go home,” Amelia whispered.

My heart sank. It was a disaster. Instead of teaching Amelia how fun swimming was, all I’d succeeded in doing was making her even more afraid of the water.

“Hi,” a voice said.

I looked up and saw that Dex was wading through the water toward us. I glanced at the lifeguard chair and saw that his replacement—the athletic girl I’d seen last week—was already sitting there.

Amelia blinked at Dex uncertainly. Her lower lip was trembling, but I could see she was trying to fight back the tears. I felt an unexpected rush of pride at her bravery.

“This is my friend Dex,” I told her. I smiled at Dex. “This is Amelia.”

“Hi, Amelia,” Dex said.

“Hi,” Amelia muttered, looking away shyly.

“Miranda told me you’re a new swimmer,” Dex said.

Amelia nodded, still not looking up.

“Maybe I could give you some pointers,” Dex suggested.

“No, that’s okay,” Amelia said, shrugging away the offer.