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I put the box down just inside the study since I’m not sure where something as personal as family photo albums would go.
I’m tempted to look around the glorious haven of books and sophistication, but I still feel like a guest here, and I don’t want to get caught snooping.
When I return to the homeless boxes, I see the next one is labeled swim supplies. Our old house didn’t have a pool, but this one does. More than that, it has a poolhouse, and that seems like the most logical place for this stuff.
I wedge my cold bottled water under my chin and, ignoring my groaning muscles, lift the box. Might as well move this one while I’m at it.
The pool looks so serene as I walk by. It’s a nice night, too.
I’ve wanted to go in the pool since I found out we were moving here. I hadn’t seen the Atwater mansion before, but Landon is on the swim team and their house is expensive, so it stood to reason they probably had one.
What a pool, too.
I take the box into the pool house and open it to see what’s inside. The usual stuff—sunscreen, some beach towels, one of Mom’s old bathing suit cover-ups. I stop when I grabmybackup bathing suit. It’s a bikini, and while Mom always sports a bikini at the beach, I usually opt for a one piece. My fair complexion means I burn if I eventhinkabout the sun for too long, so the more skin I have covered, the better. I’d swim in one of those scuba diving outfits if I had one.
But we were out shopping one day and decided to take a spontaneous trip to the beach to watch the sunset and play in the water for a bit. We could have just gone home, but the shop had a blue bikini and a green bikini on clearance. We grabbed those, put them on under our clothes in the dressing room, and hit the beach.
Since it’s dark, I don’t have to worry about sunburn tonight.
I look at the looming mansion, my gaze automatically finding the window of the room I know is Landon’s.
I do have to worry about him, but his bedroom lights are off. The basement doesn’t seem to be illuminated either, and it is late on a school night, so it’s probably safe to assume he’s sleeping.
A grin claims my lips as I snatch the bikini out of the box and run to the bathroom to change.
I feel far too naked as I practically tiptoe out of the pool house. I toss a beach towel on a lounge chair as I walk past, then I check the house for signs anyone else is awake, but thankfully, the place is still dark.
Pleasure washes over me as I submerge myself in the water. Even the sounds the water makes to accommodate me as I walk deeper into the pool bring me peace.
I’ve always loved the water.
As much as I loved our old house, the one thing that bugged me was that we didn’t have a pool. Every single other house in the neighborhood did. Since I didn’t have any friends in the neighborhood, I didn’t have access to anyone else’s, either.
I mean, my best friend has a pool, but unless her roommates are out, Hannah’s house is a stressful place to be. I can’t stand either of the people she lives with, and any time Ihavegone over there to swim with her, Jackie or Anae—or both—have found reasons to drag her out of the pool to do something for them, because God forbid she have a little fun.
I don’t know how she stands them, butIcan’t. It’s too hard to keep my mouth shut when I’m around them, and usually I do because I don’t want to make Hannah’s life any harder once I’m gone, but it is far from relaxing.
I spread my arms and lean back in the water, allowing my body to rise so I’m floating in the warm, rippling waves. I close my eyes and just breathe.
This is relaxing.
Living at the Atwaters’ mansion is also much more stressful than when we lived alone at our pool-less house, but this almost makes up for it.
Sprinkle on how happy Hayden makes Mom, and the bar fills up.
Worth it.
Even if it doesn’t feel that way sometimes.
I float around for a while, enjoying the water and recharging a bit. I know I’m losing sleep for every minute I’m out here and I may regret it tomorrow, but I don’t know when I’ll get to swim in this pool again.
Or, well, float.
Floating is quieter and I’m paranoid about waking anyone, so I haven’t actually gone for a swim, but once I come to the sad conclusion that I need to get out of the pool and get my butt to bed, I allow myself to swim a few laps back and forth.
Paradise.
With great regret, I leave the water. My body feels heavier as I emerge from both the unpleasantness of gravityandmy dread about leaving paradise and not knowing when I’ll be able to return.
