Learning to Swim by Cheryl Klam Page A

through some… things lately, and I feel bad that she took it out on you.”
    The news that Keith and Mora were having problems sent a tremor of elation straight through me. “That's too bad,” I managed to say.
    He walked toward me a little bit. Four steps left. “We're both kind of at a crossroads, trying to figure out if this… us… is, well, worth it.”
    “How long have you guys been together?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer to that question, as did everyone else within a ten-mile radius.
    Keith did an about-face and headed toward the water. Eight, nine, ten. “We've been friends for a long time and hooked up last summer. We broke up when I went back to school.”
    I decided to follow him, but stood a safe distance away. “I didn't know you broke up.”
    He nodded. “Yeah. I mean, not to get too personal or anything, but I was studying philosophy at school and it just gave me a different perspective on Jones Island and life in general. I felt like I really didn't have that much in common with the kids around here anymore. Theyall seemed so… shallow. There was no depth to them at all.”
    I couldn't believe this. Keith was wearing his heart on his proverbial sleeve, and there was no one around to appreciate it but me.
    “So when I came back this summer, I really didn't have any intention of hooking up with Mora again. But our parents are good friends, and Mora and I kept getting thrown together. She seemed like she had really grown up a lot in the past year. The way she's been acting recently, though… Well, I'm beginning to wonder.”
    I suddenly realized he was staring right at me. I wanted to say something profound and eloquent, as if I was in Keith's philosophy class, but I was so afraid to screw it up. I knew if I kept looking at him I would, so I turned my attention to the water and inhaled the salty air. “No one's ever what we expect them to be.”
    Whoa. Where had that come from?
    I glanced back at Keith, and his eyes were glimmering.
    Who cared? He'd obviously liked it.
    “That's true,” he said, grinning. “Anyway, I didn't mean to drag you into all this.”
    “It's okay.” I smiled.
    “Thanks for being so understanding.” He stretched his arms over his head and then put his hands on his hips. “All right, ready to go swimming?”
    I was so ready that I shed my clothes in less thantwenty seconds. Meanwhile, Keith pulled out a long piece of rope from his duffel bag and untied it.
    “You're not nervous, are you?” he asked.
    I shook my head. It was really weird, but I wasn't nervous at all.
    “Good,” he said. “There's not much of a current, but I don't want to take any chances.” He looped one side of the rope around my waist before tying the other side around his own.
    Keith tucked a kickboard under his arm and we walked side by side across the hard pebble-filled sand and into the warm, dark water, wading in until it was up to our waists. I was remarkably cool and collected. At least, I was until I saw the giant white fleshy creature speeding toward me with fangs bared.
    “Jellyfish!” I screamed, practically hopping into Keith's arms.
    He plucked the white glob out of the water and held it up. “Paper.” He smirked. “This water can get kind of gross this time of year. But the good news is there's no jellyfish yet.”
    “Great,” I said weakly. Suddenly I realized that Keith still had his arm around me. He seemed to realize it at the same time, because we both took a step backward and cleared our throats.
    “Here you go,” he said, handing me the kickboard. “Just start kicking,” he said. “I'll walk alongside you.”
    I glanced out across the bay. The masts of severalsailboats dotted the horizon, bobbing lazily in the dusk. It was a clear night, and I could see the skyline of Annapolis in the distance as lights began to fill the shoreline. It was an altogether peaceful scene. It did not look like the bay my mother had described: a seemingly tamed