Blended Ch 12

SIX MONTHS AGO

Sunscreen, chlorine, and whatever flavor those red, white, and blue snow cones are—the combination of aromas is familiar and comforting, even when the beastly heat is intense enough to make the air over the pavement shimmer.

It’s the second time this season that the Gurlberg Public Pool has been abruptly reopened due to unseasonably warm temperatures. Piper is exhausted, not by the heat, but by the discourse in the Jameson-Dunham household about climate change.

At the pool, she is safe from that. She stretches luxuriously and adjusts the top of her bikini, then settles in and dons her Ray Bans. Her skin bakes deliciously, and she’s already thinking about what a Coke Zero is going to taste like in a little bit. She doesn’t have to listen Riley and Kayla and at times her own mother, when she can’t help but get involved.

Piper is safe and happy.

Or not. She takes a deep breath for patience as the three children approach, their wildly different silhouettes making them seem like they stepped straight out of cartoon in their swimsuits. Patty is quite husky, Alice is like a beanstalk, and Val looks about half her age.

Piper does not grimace or give any outward sign that she isn’t happy to see them as they surround her. Val looks nervous. Patty looks dumb. Alice gapes, slack-jawed, at Piper’s body.

“What’s this about?” Piper asks neutrally. “You’re wearing sunscreen, right?”

“We are. We need snow cones,” Patty announces.

She doesn’t go on.

“That’s it?” Piper asks, cautiously optimistic. They’re just hitting her up for money? She doesn’t have to get up, or do anything? “OK.” She grabs her bag and gives Patty a twenty. “Don’t run,” she warns, and Patty dashes off and doesn’t look back.

“Thanks, Piper,” Val says politely, avoiding eye contact.

“You’re welcome, Val.”

Val turns to go, and Alice is still staring at Piper’s bulge. In fairness, it’s pretty big and attention-grabbing. Piper’s here for the sun, but a little attention never killed anyone. However, she does not want that attention from anyone who isn’t old enough to drink. Alice isn’t even allowed to have caffeine.

Val grabs Alice’s hand and leads her away, blushing.

Piper shakes her head and gets comfortable again.

“Hi, Piper.”

She lowers her sunglasses. The three figures approaching are much taller this time—well, two of them are. Ash Makris is hardly taller than Alice. But Flynn Stackwell and Graham Lenders are both over six feet.

“Oh my god,” she mutters, incredulous. “You guys are being twins.” They all wear blue and white gingham swim trunks, matching perfectly. Her eye twitches; it’s pretty stinking cute. They aren’t brothers, just roommates. There’s a reason they’re so popular. Even poor little Ash, in his dumb Golden State cap and Dragonball T-shirt.

Shirtless, Flynn and Graham know perfectly well what they are doing to at least two-thirds of the women at the pool. Piper can’t throw stones. She would run her hands over those muscles.

Flynn spots something and absently touches Graham’s love handle, just brushing it with his finger to get his attention. The three of them join him in staring.

Irked, Piper takes off her sunglasses and twists to see what could possibly be more important than her in a bikini.

Tortoiseshell sunglasses rest on a bleach job so good that Piper almost can’t tell. The color is so perfect for the tanned beauty striding through the gate that she might have stepped out of an ad. Her canvas beach bag has the Australian flag on it. The tan lines on her bronze skin are so fair that it makes Piper’s mouth dry. Her long legs are sculpted by cardio. Everything about her is pert and smooth and perfect. She is an actual Barbie doll.

Piper sits up a little straighter, feeling something she hasn’t felt in quite a while.