One
“Nice titties, Banacek. Big.” It was a sneer, not a compliment, drawled by a hulking monster of a boy who could’ve been a linebacker but was instead a waste of space druggie and, from the gossip Jen had heard, a criminal.
“Shut up, Crawford, you little pencil dick.” Tara Banacek was bold. You had to give her that. It was easy to see why she was the queen bee in the middle school hive.
Jen glanced down at her own chest. Two small bumps swelled under her bathing suit top. For once, she was glad not to be Tara Banacek, a girl with the kind of body guys noticed. For once, she was glad to be invisible, a satellite to Tara’s star. Even so, Jen’s pulse quickened, jittery with adrenaline, as a herd of boys trooped toward her friends where they lay sunning on blankets beside the lake. She was very aware how isolated they were. Nobody else was around today.
In fact, Tara had complained about it when they’d first arrived. What was the use of lying out in her new bathing suit if there weren’t any guys to see her? She hadn’t said that aloud, of course, but Jen knew that’s what Tara meant when she complained about how empty the lakeshore was.
Now there were six boys swarming into their space, but Crawford and his friends weren’t the kind of guys a girl wanted to flirt with.
Tara’s eyes were ice and her voice sharp as razor wire. “Get lost, losers. We were here first.”
It was kind of a childish taunt but Jen was glad Tara had the guts to stand her ground against Vin Crawford. To Jen that animal was intimidating even in the tame hallways of school, let alone out here in the wild. The way he shouldered his way through the crowded corridors like a bull ready to gore the first person who crossed him was scary. Jen took care to avoid him and all his henchmen whenever possible.
“Fuck you. The lake don’t belong to you bitches,” Crawford said.
“Why don’t you at least go a little farther down the beach? There’s plenty of room for everybody.” Ania tried to smooth things over like she did when the girls in their group started sniping at each other. Jen saw a future in politics for her friend with the cool, soothing voice.
In response, Crawford snapped at his minions to plant their cooler in the sand only yards away. The boys’ big feet churned up sand as they took possession of the strip of beach, sending it sifting on the breeze over the girls. Shrill female exclamations were answered by male voices wobbling uneasily from bass to tenor. The arguing escalated as the two groups shouted back and forth.
Jen pressed her body into the sand, willing herself even more invisible. Her skin burned, but not from the sun beating on it. She hated fights, hated loud voices spewing poisonous words. Why did Tara and the others even have to talk to these guys? Why couldn’t they ignore them and hope the boys wouldn’t bug them? That’s what Jen would do, hunker down and pretend they didn’t exist no matter what insults they threw.
She rolled onto her stomach so none of them would make any remarks about her flat chest and peered over at the six boys. There was bullish Crawford and his best friend, Braden, whose face was so mottled with acne he looked like a burn victim. She recognized the freckled Tapper boys, their cousin, Ryan Walters and another cousin, a skinny boy called Drake. She didn’t know Drake’s last name or if he was a Tapper, a Waters or something else. For that matter, he might not even be their cousin. That family was so big, she wasn’t sure about all the relationships.
Burrowed into the sand, head resting on her folded arms, Jen’s body contracted with each slur the boys threw at the girls, calling them bitches and worse. She was used to hearing that kind of talk at school, but not directed at her or her friends. She wished she could just go home, but they hadn’t ridden their bikes today. Ania’s mom had dropped the five of them off and wouldn’t pick them up for several more
“Nice titties, Banacek. Big.” It was a sneer, not a compliment, drawled by a hulking monster of a boy who could’ve been a linebacker but was instead a waste of space druggie and, from the gossip Jen had heard, a criminal.
“Shut up, Crawford, you little pencil dick.” Tara Banacek was bold. You had to give her that. It was easy to see why she was the queen bee in the middle school hive.
Jen glanced down at her own chest. Two small bumps swelled under her bathing suit top. For once, she was glad not to be Tara Banacek, a girl with the kind of body guys noticed. For once, she was glad to be invisible, a satellite to Tara’s star. Even so, Jen’s pulse quickened, jittery with adrenaline, as a herd of boys trooped toward her friends where they lay sunning on blankets beside the lake. She was very aware how isolated they were. Nobody else was around today.
In fact, Tara had complained about it when they’d first arrived. What was the use of lying out in her new bathing suit if there weren’t any guys to see her? She hadn’t said that aloud, of course, but Jen knew that’s what Tara meant when she complained about how empty the lakeshore was.
Now there were six boys swarming into their space, but Crawford and his friends weren’t the kind of guys a girl wanted to flirt with.
Tara’s eyes were ice and her voice sharp as razor wire. “Get lost, losers. We were here first.”
It was kind of a childish taunt but Jen was glad Tara had the guts to stand her ground against Vin Crawford. To Jen that animal was intimidating even in the tame hallways of school, let alone out here in the wild. The way he shouldered his way through the crowded corridors like a bull ready to gore the first person who crossed him was scary. Jen took care to avoid him and all his henchmen whenever possible.
“Fuck you. The lake don’t belong to you bitches,” Crawford said.
“Why don’t you at least go a little farther down the beach? There’s plenty of room for everybody.” Ania tried to smooth things over like she did when the girls in their group started sniping at each other. Jen saw a future in politics for her friend with the cool, soothing voice.
In response, Crawford snapped at his minions to plant their cooler in the sand only yards away. The boys’ big feet churned up sand as they took possession of the strip of beach, sending it sifting on the breeze over the girls. Shrill female exclamations were answered by male voices wobbling uneasily from bass to tenor. The arguing escalated as the two groups shouted back and forth.
Jen pressed her body into the sand, willing herself even more invisible. Her skin burned, but not from the sun beating on it. She hated fights, hated loud voices spewing poisonous words. Why did Tara and the others even have to talk to these guys? Why couldn’t they ignore them and hope the boys wouldn’t bug them? That’s what Jen would do, hunker down and pretend they didn’t exist no matter what insults they threw.
She rolled onto her stomach so none of them would make any remarks about her flat chest and peered over at the six boys. There was bullish Crawford and his best friend, Braden, whose face was so mottled with acne he looked like a burn victim. She recognized the freckled Tapper boys, their cousin, Ryan Walters and another cousin, a skinny boy called Drake. She didn’t know Drake’s last name or if he was a Tapper, a Waters or something else. For that matter, he might not even be their cousin. That family was so big, she wasn’t sure about all the relationships.
Burrowed into the sand, head resting on her folded arms, Jen’s body contracted with each slur the boys threw at the girls, calling them bitches and worse. She was used to hearing that kind of talk at school, but not directed at her or her friends. She wished she could just go home, but they hadn’t ridden their bikes today. Ania’s mom had dropped the five of them off and wouldn’t pick them up for several more
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