Page 14 of Unsupervised
Before they can keep at it, a guy walks in carrying two huge bags of ice, one on each shoulder. Damn, he’s tall. Probably six foot four at least, with light brown curly hair that he blows out of his eyes. “Stop going after my woman, dude. You know I have dibs.”
“Oh my god.” Zara covers her face with her hand momentarily. “You can’t call dibs on a person.”
I open the freezer and step back so he can put the ice inside. After he closes the door, he regards me, and a smile leaps across his face. “Well, hi.” He glances up at the guys then back to me. “What’s your name?”
“Kelly. You must be Marty.”
His eyes roam down my body and back up. It’s more playful than creepy. “Did my good looks give me away?”
“No, but I’ve been warned that you hit on everything with boobs, so I put two and two together.”
Laughter echoes around the room, and Graham points to an oversized Jenga game set up on the table against the wall. “Jell-O shot Jenga?”
Marty pops open his beer and pulls off his shirt. “Let’s do it.”
The next few hours are more fun than I expected. The guys are a lot of fun, and I love the way they go back and forth with my friends. It’s clear they’re all close. It doesn’t seem like a bad group to be a part of.
I meet a few other people throughout the night, but no guys who stand out. Oh well, there’s no hurry. This is what I wanted. To have a life of my own. Some fun.
I’m a lightweight when it comes to alcohol, and it doesn’t take long for the shots to catch up with me. I stick to beer after that, but I’m still nowhere near sober when someone suggests we go for a swim. It’s after midnight and a lot of the other people have left. There’s still a small group in the living room playing video games.
“Where are we going to swim at midnight?” I ask.
“We have a pool here,” Owen says.
“That closed about four hours ago,” Graham points out from his spot on the couch, his eyes never leaving the TV screen.
“Shut up, Dad!” Owen grins at Marty, who nods.
“I can pick that lock no problem.”
Break into the pool for a midnight swim? My mind races with the thought and something occurs to me. This feels like a line. One that the old obedient, careful Kelly wouldn’t cross. Which is probably why I want to stomp across it. Or, you know, it’s the alcohol. Either way. I glance at the girls. “I’m in.”
“Holy shit, we have corrupted her,” Serena squeals, hugging me. “Let’s go.”
I notice they’re leaving their purses and bags, so I hand Serena my phone and stuff from my pockets to keep in her purse.
The night is hot and sticky, the late summer humidity hanging in the air. Graham stays behind at the apartment, while Owen, Marty, and a few others from the party creep down the darkened street with me and the girls.
“We don’t have our swimsuits,” I hiss, suddenly remembering.
“Skinny dipping,” Marty sings.
“No way,” Remee argues. “I’m keeping underwear on.”
I’m glad I wore a dark bra and boyshort panties. The thought of stripping down to them in front of everyone should make me panic but instead I feel a surge of excitement.
The pool sits at one end of the apartment complex, surrounded by a shoulder high chain link fence. A few light poles surround it, but the domes are dark. They must only be used during the evening and turned off at closing.
We’re half hidden in shadows as Marty tries to pick the lock on the gate. It doesn’t take him long to get it unlocked.
“How do you know how to do that?” I ask as we enter.
One side of his mouth darts up. “You impressed?”
“More curious if you’re a criminal.”
“My dad is a locksmith.” He leans down and his next words are close to my ear. “And this is breaking and entering, so technically, you’re also a criminal now.”