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Her hands fell away from the pizza dough. “What are you talking about?”

“Nothing. Never mind.” I had to get out of there. Shoving off the stool, I went upstairs and grabbed my swim suit. I was heading back downstairs when the doorbell rang and Shelly came back with a stack of delivered pizzas. She saw me on the stairs and laughed. “Teenagers don’t want to wait for homemade pizza.” She put them on the counter and yelled down the stairs, “Austin! The pizza’s done, guys. Come and get it.”

I had enough time to step out of the way when Austin and five pubescent boys and three girls rushed upstairs, zeroing in on the pizza in record time. The girls were slower, looking at the pizza with caution. I knew how they were feeling. They wanted it, they were salivating for it, but being skinny meant not eating, especially in front of boys, who were inhaling the food without chewing.

“Hey, your sis is hot, man!” one guy said as he stuffed an entire slice in his mouth. He nudged Austin. “You never told us that.”

The girls stared at me.

“Shut up, dick,” Austin retorted, wiping his mouth.

“Austin,” Shelly reprimanded. She tried to look stern. She failed. The adoration she had for her son was evident.

“Whatever.” Austin rolled his eyes. “Mom, where’s the soda?”

“Oh. I’ll go and grab them. I left them in the car.”

He leaned back to wait.

Uh, no. I spoke up, “Why don’t Austin and all his friends go and get them?” One of his friends stood next to me and his hand was too close to my ass. As I said that, I shifted away from him. He looked up, saw he’d been caught, and his head went back down. He shuffled away, but I saw the smirk on his face. He was another little punk.

“Oh, come on!” Austin cried out.

“Go,” I ordered. They went, but Austin flicked me off—it was becoming his favorite gesture—just as they slipped out the door. I didn’t even waste my time wondering if Shelly saw that. She wouldn’t reprimand him anyway so I turned to the girls. “Grab your pieces and head downstairs. I’ll hold them off for a while.”

They didn’t wait a second longer. They grabbed their pizza and ran downstairs.

“Well,” Shelly gave me an appraising look, “I didn’t even think of that.”

“I’m a girl and I remember what it was like when I was that age.”

Pretty soon, the guys bounded back inside, each with a twenty-four pack in their arms. Unloading them on the counter, they grabbed another piece of pizza, but I tapped one of the boxes. “These can go in the pantry, where the soda always goes.” I gave Austin a pointed look. The kid was testing the boundaries right now; he knew where they went. Shelly was letting him get away with it.

Grumbling, Austin showed them where to go—half of the guys knew where they went anyway—and when they came back, I saw his hand slowly raising, his finger was inching upwards…

“If that finger touches the air, you’re computer’s going to come down with a virus and all your porn’s going to be gone.”

The finger stayed in place, and the hand was lowered back to his side, but he still glared at me. The rest of the little dudes inched away from me. The one who tried to touch my ass suddenly looked like the pizza had gone down the wrong tube.

“Whatever.” Austin shrugged, grabbed the rest of the pizza, some soda, and headed back downstairs.

Shelly was fighting back a grin and burst out laughing the second they were around the corner. “Oh, dear. I shouldn’t be laughing, but I’ve never seen Austin handled like that. I’ve never been able to get him to do anything.”

I gestured to the door. “I’m going swimming. I’ll be back later tonight.”

“Oh. You swim?” When I didn’t stop to answer, she yelled after me, “Okay. Have fun!”

The water felt great. No one else was there and I took longer than normal. I lost track of my lap count after the first hour and when I finished an hour later, I saw a guy sitting at a table in the corner. Pulling myself out, I went to grab a towel, and said to him, “That’s not creepy.”

He was in an area that wasn’t lit so I couldn’t make out who he was, but I saw his teeth when he smiled. He stood and came over. As he drew closer, I noticed he was wearing a Rawley High School staff shirt with a whistle around his neck. He was in his mid-forties, trim, with specks of grey mixed in his black hair. He nodded to the pool. “You’re a good swimmer. Is that the fastest you can do?”

“No. That was fun tonight.”

“Can you go faster

then?”

“I can go a lot faster.”

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