It’s so strange to think about what could have happened if Mama had never come back home, had never met up with Daddy again, had never gotten married. I would have a different daddy and all different genes. Maybe I’d be bite-size, with strawberry blond curls and a tiny nose. Maybe I’d have cocoa skin and mocha latte eyes with long, long lashes. And br**sts. Maybe I’d be a good dancer or a gymnast or a figure skater. My potential might have known no bounds; I might have been great.

It’s funny, because in all my fantasies of What if Mama and Daddy had never, Mama is always my mother. It’s only my father that changes. I reckon it’s his fault I’m ten feet tall with a bird chest and big feet. If I looked like my mama, things might be different for me.

Clementon is a small town. Everybody knows everybody, and everybody knows everybody else’s business, too. It’s that kind of place. Mama thinks it’s suffocating, but I like knowing that Bernard Watts’s dog was just neutered, or that Emmy Jo Delessi’s wedding cost her parents over twenty-five thousand dollars. (I had no idea that one day could cost so much money, but apparently her tiara was made out of real seed pearls, and they also served jumbo shrimp cocktail at the reception.) I like knowing that every fall we have our Clementon County Fair, and every Christmas we have our Clementon County Christmas Pageant. I like walking into Mr. Boneci’s family diner and hearing him say, “Hey there, Miss Annemarie. Long time no see.”

I’m not trying to say that there aren’t plenty of negative aspects of small-town life too, because there are. There’s a lot of “small town small mindedness,” as Mama puts it. When Olivia Peterson got pregnant last year, she wasn’t allowed to go to school anymore. I don’t know if that is illegal or what, but nobody put up a fuss. Not even Olivia.

Clementon has its bad points, but I wouldn’t mind living here for the rest of my life. I really wouldn’t. It’s home. I was born here; it’s what I’m used to.

Chapter 7

Last night I discovered my bathing suit had a hole in it. This may sound petty, but for a girl who has to go to a boy-girl pool party in a matter of hours, it is no small thing. It is quite a big thing, possibly the biggest. I wore that bathing suit all summer, and just when I needed it most, it fell apart on me. When I tried it on, I didn’t notice at first, and then I felt the light breeze on my butt.

Mama sewed the hole up straight away. I didn’t even know she could sew. I almost didn’t trust her with it because she’d had half a bottle of wine with supper, but she did a good job. I was really impressed. She had the right color string and everything. You can’t even tell there was a hole. It looks as good as new, or as good as a two-year-old stretched-out bathing suit can look, anyway. It’s faded green, and although it’s not a two-piece, it does have pretty little straps.

Midmorning Elaine comes over so we can all walk to Sherilyn’s together. She is wearing her new two-piece under denim overalls. I beg her to show me the two-piece, and she finally gives in. It’s black, and it fits her just right. Elaine has a bit more (not a lot) than me in the chest department. But even a little makes a big difference. When you’re twelve, every bit you’ve got counts.

Celia braided my hair before she left for Margaret’s house, and she even let me borrow her raspberry lip gloss. With Celia helping me, I felt like Cinderella getting ready for her big night on the town. I think I look pretty good.

Elaine and I sit on the porch and wait for Mark to come over. She tells me my hair looks pretty, and I compliment her on her new suit again. I wish I had a two-piece.

We see Mark coming up the walk with a blue towel slung around his neck, and Elaine whispers, “Here comes your one true love.”

I kick her and we giggle until Mark makes his way up the driveway. He says, “Hey, Annemarie, hey, Elaine. What are you guys laughing about?”

I tell him none of his business, and the three of us head over to Sherilyn’s. The walk over is mostly silent.

Elaine and Mark don’t know each other very well. The only thing those two have in common is me, and I get the feeling they’re not crazy about each other. Well, it’s more than just a feeling. Mark thinks Elaine talks too much, and Elaine thinks Mark is dull. The three of us don’t hang out together much anyway. When it’s Elaine and me, it’s just us, and when it’s Mark and me, it’s just us too. If truth be told, I like it better that way.

When we get to Sherilyn’s house, most of the other kids are already there. Mairi Stevenson and Hadley Smith are sunning on deck chairs. Mairi is wearing a pink two-piece, and Hadley, a yellow polka dot one. (I saw both of those bikinis at the mall, but Mama said she thought a bikini on a twelve-year-old girl was absolutely ridiculous. I think it was because they cost sixty dollars, but Mama would never admit that there was something we couldn’t afford. She’s a good one for making excuses when it comes to spending money.) Sherilyn’s bustling around the food table in a zebra-print tankini. The boys—Kyle, Jack, Tommy, and Hugh Sasser—are in the pool splashing one another.

With the exception of Elaine, us Clementon kids have known each other for most of our lives. We grew up together, learned to ride bikes together, took swimming lessons at the YMCA together. We used to all be friends, at least in the general sense. Somehow the cream of our crop rose to the top, and it’s clear we’re not all friends anymore. I have a feeling that this will be the last neighborhood back-to-school pool party at Sherilyn’s house.

Before Elaine, Sherilyn was my closest girl friend. I still like Sherilyn, but after so many years of knowing each other, the little things started to pile up and bug me. She cares way too much about what Mairi and Hadley think. It’s embarrassing. Even when we were little, she was rushing to impress them, rushing to anything them, and she just never measured up. Once Mairi and Hadley and that kind of girl decide you’re not good enough, you never will be. You just won’t. And the sooner you realize that, the better. Sherilyn has never figured it out. She’s so eager to please and imitate that she ends up going overboard.

Like the way her clothes never look right. Mrs. Tallini still picks her school clothes out, and she usually has the right idea, but she takes a good thing too far. If miniskirts are in, Sherilyn will show up in a purple miniskirt with lace trim, plus dangling beads and maybe rhinestones. I do feel slightly guilty for dropping Sherilyn for Elaine, but I didn’t really have a choice. Elaine and I are soul sisters. What could I do?

Mark throws his towel on a picnic table and dives into the water. We say hi to the girls, and then Elaine and I spread out our beach towels. We’re both reluctant to take off our clothes with everybody there pretending not to look. Elaine unbuckles her overalls, and I throw my T-shirt off in a flash. Why prolong the agony? Elaine’s skin is tan and smooth, and I wish I could cover up all my freckles.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see the boys watching us. Elaine and I pretend not to notice, and I know that she’s just as aware of the boys as I am. We’re doing pretty well until the boys start to snicker, and even then we keep our cool. But then I hear the boys guffawing, and that is pretty hard to ignore.

“I like your bikini, Elaine,” Hugh Sasser calls out, and everyone guffaws some more. Hugh is the second cutest boy in our grade, after Kyle Montgomery. He makes red hair and freckles look good.

Elaine lifts her head up from the towel, and her hair swings like a silk curtain across her cheek. “I just bet you do, Huey.” Her tone is dry, and she rolls her eyes, but I know she is pleased. Elaine knows how to play the game. I look over at Mairi and Hadley, and Hadley looks like she just swallowed a cactus. Hadley’s had her eye on Hugh forever.

Later Sherilyn’s mom brings out a couple of pizzas, and of course the boys stumble out of the pool and fall onto the pizzas like wild beasts. They’re dripping pool water all over the food, and I elbow my way in to get a couple of pieces of pepperoni before they’re either soggy or gone. As I inhale my first piece, I overhear Mairi announce that she’s on a no-carb diet. Hadley says she wouldn’t eat greasy pizza anyway, and Sherilyn looks crestfallen.

Lightly, I say, “Didn’t I see you guys eating pizza at the mall last week? Wasn’t that you two?” I’m treading extra softly, because challenging Mairi Stevenson in public just isn’t done.

“I doubt it,” Mairi says coldly. “We don’t eat pizza.”

“I thought I saw you guys there too,” Kyle says. “At Pizza Expresso.”

Mairi turns to Kyle and smiles, and it’s like I’m not even there anymore. She tilts her chin to one side and coos, “Then why didn’t you come over and say hey?” Her thick lashes flutter like twin butterflies. I swear, Mairi Stevenson thinks she’s Scarlett O’Hara reincarnated.

I want to say, he didn’t come over and say hey because the two of you were too busy stuffing your faces with pizza and he didn’t want to interrupt. But I don’t dare. I can’t afford to burn any bridges with those two. Once they decide to freeze you out, you’re done for. I’ve seen it happen. I’m hanging off the side of a precipice as it is, and the only thing keeping me there is Elaine. I look at her, and she shakes her head slightly.

No one mentions my green one-piece or me until I hear Jack Connelly say, “Her chest is flatter than my back. It’s flatter than that diving board.” I know he’s talking about me, and I want to kill him. I would do it with my bare hands and a smile on my face.

My face is burning and I struggle to keep it devoid of expression, perfectly blank. I have to focus on my rage, or else I will cry. If I cry even one tear because of that cretin, I will never ever forgive myself.

For my sake Elaine is busy pretending she didn’t hear a word. She is nattering on about getting a better tan before school starts. “I hardly got tan at all this summer—”

“Jack Connelly is an ass,” I hiss.

Elaine whispers, “Just forget it, Annemarie. He’s a moron. He has the IQ of a cockroach.”

“More like a gnat. A dead, squashed-up gnat.”

Full of spite, I jump into the pool. The guys are doing cannonballs off the new diving board Sherylin’s dad bought at the beginning of the summer. Wading to the deep end, I bide my time and wait until Jack is just about to jump. At the top of my lungs, I yell, “Choke, Connelly, you big jackass!”

He stumbles and belly flops into the pool. The guys laugh, and I feel somewhat vindicated. When Jack resurfaces, he snarls, “That was so lame, Annemarie. I’d like to see you do better.”

“No problem,” I say coolly. And it isn’t. I know what I can do in the water, and I know I can take down Jack or anybody else any day of the week without breaking a sweat. I’ve always been a great swimmer, but last summer I went to day camp at the YMCA and I learned all kinds of dives. The swim coach taught me everything, even the flashy stuff. “I might be as flat as a board, but at least I can dive off of one. Ape.”

Everyone hoots and hollers, and Jack’s face burns red with indignation. He pushes his dark hair out of his eyes. “Let’s see it then.”

“What’s the wager? You better make it worth my while.”

“Whatever you want, Wilcox. Name it,” Jack says, his confidence returning.

“J, she’s pretty good,” Mark breaks in. He looks uneasy, and I throw him a dirty look. Where was he ten minutes ago? He should have been sticking up for me back there. He should have been defending my honor. Instead he was busy guffawing with his pals.

“You’d better listen to your buddy, J,” I taunt. “You’re mouth is writin’ checks your butt can’t cash.” I heard Daddy say that on the phone once, on a long-distance business call.

“Just tell me what you want,” he snaps.

What do I want? What do I want? I’m frantic, and I say the first thing I think of. “If I win, you carry my books to every class, every day the first week of school.” I think I saw that on a Brady Bunch rerun on Nick at Nite.

“Carry your books to class?” Jack snorts. “What is this, the 1950s? We have book bags for that, Einstein. Hey, if you wanted to go steady, you should have just said so, Annemarie.”

Everyone laughs. My cheeks are on fire. Stupid Nick at Nite! But I manage to say, “Dream on, rat boy. If you’re too chicken, you should just say so.”

He rolls his eyes. “Fine. And if I win, you carry mine.”

“Spit shake.” I spit into my hand and hold it out. Jack produces an extra-phlegmy wad of spit, and we shake. I hear Mairi and Hadley squeal, “Ewww.”

“The rest of these guys will judge who’s the best,” Jack says, all business now. “And that’ll be me. Don’t cry too hard when you lose, Wilcox.”

I roll my eyes. We hoist ourselves out of the water and walk over to the diving board. “Ladies first,” Jack says magnanimously. “Oh, wait, I forgot, you’re no lady.” He snickers.

“Quit stalling and dive,” I snap.

Jack struts up the ladder, and he waits until all eyes are on him. “Watch and learn.” He somersaults off the board and lands in the water with a big splash. The guys clap. Mairi and Hadley cheer loudly, and Elaine yells, “Booo!”

He swims over to the side, and waits for me to go next. Smirking, he calls out, “Good luck, Wilcox.”

“You don’t need luck when you’ve got skills,” I say.

I may sound fierce and brave and sure of myself, but my heart is pounding triple time. I’ve got to nail this dive; I can’t let Jack Connelly humiliate me twice. A full gainer would blow his puny somersault out of the water. A full gainer is basically a forward dive where the diver executes a complete backward somersault before hitting the water feetfirst. It’s impressive, and it’s no easy feat. The hard part is making sure you don’t hit the board. It took me most of the summer to get it right, and even then, it’s not perfect. Still, me on a bad day is better than Jack Connelly on the best day of his life.