Page 52 of Harper's Holiday Romance
“I’ve heard that can also soothe itching.” She wiggled her eyebrows.
“Don’t you dare.” Sarah pushed Billie away.
I saw the mischievous grin on Billies face, and I knew exactly what was coming. She pulled at Sarah’s arm. She skilfully shrugged the thin white beach shirt from her back whilst somehow knocking the sunglasses from her face strategically onto the sunbed below her. In one smooth motion she launched herself into the pool, turning the tables and dragging Billie in with her. The water splashed upwards around them both like someone had just launched a live grenade in the centre. There was a tangle of limbs as they fought to dunk each other under the water. The older couple across the pool looked up from their books and laughed.
“Harps, come here,” Billie said, shaking her hair loose from her sagging ponytail. “Please, pass me my sunglasses.” She held out her hands, her eyes were half-closed as she attempted to blink the sun cream away. I told her time and time again to get the water-resistant cream, but she never listened. I climbed from my sunbed and readjusted my pink bikini so I didn’t let my boob slip for the fourth time that day. It was hard being a woman. I had to worry about strap lines, boob slips, and bikini waxes, and men just whacked on the first pair offlamingo shorts they could find and belly-flopped straight into the pool with zero maintenance. I envied that. I couldn’t skip one day in my shaving routine for fear of looking like Chewbacca’s sister.
The second I let my hand drop she had me. Sunglasses and all, I went headfirst screaming into the blue abyss. I should’ve known better. I resurfaced with water up my nose and my hair stuck to my face every which way, the hair I’d washed the night before. Thankfully, my recent love affair with faux eyelashes meant mascara streaks were a thing of my past.
“I hate you!” I slapped at the water.
Billie fell backwards laughing hysterically. Sarah, having forgiven Billie for pulling her in the pool found my demise so hilarious she could barely breathe. “I hate you both!”
“You should’ve seen your face.” Billie was kind enough to re-enact the expression for my benefit. Although, I thought the way she manoeuvred her mouth and teeth like some bizarre TikTok filter was inaccurate.
“I do not look like that.”
My curtain bangs were no longer framing my face as the hair stylist told me they would. I scraped at the strands of hair, dipping my head back begrudgingly to make it easier to clip up once I exited the pool. Billie and Sarah stared directly behind me.
“What?” I jolted left then right. “What is it? Do I have a bug in my hair?” I frantically shook my head.
“There’s no bug, just a hot girl.” Billie nodded. She grabbed Sarah by the arm and swam away.
“Oh.” I turned to see Julia gliding down the small shallow steps like an astonishingly attractive ghost. She wore a beige swimsuit that accentuated her waist and cut down the centre of her chest. I wasn’t sure if it was theillusion of the sun or if she’d purposefully covered her body in a shimmering oil.
“Hi.” I waved, embarrassing myself, as she was no more than four feet away.
“Hey.”
Julia descended to my level. She had on a blue Giants hat to block out the sun. The shorter strands of her hair poked out from underneath; hats suited her.
“I’m starting to think your friends don’t like me,” Julia jested.
“I wished they didn’t like me,” I joked. “I am more at ease when they swim away.”
“Scared they’ll embarrass you?” Julia smirked.
“Yes, exactly that.” I took a seat on the steps leading down to the pool, turning so I could face the sun. “How was golf? Did you beat your dad?”
“I wish. He’s semi-retired; he golfs at least twice a week. I don’t stand a chance. I just tag along because he enjoys it.” Julia swiped her hand back and forth against the surface of the water; the little ripples coupled with the sun’s reflection created an artistic canvas of sorts.
“That’s sweet. I’m a little sad you didn’t keep the shorts on if I’m honest.” It was the flirtiest thing I’d said in the past three years, which was partly the problem, but also extremely cringeworthy.
“I apologise. I’m not sure the golfer look is a Paris Fashion Week staple though.”
“I agree. Stick with this girl next door look; it suits you.” I squinted.
“Girl next door—” She grinned. “I’ve been called worse things.”
“I doubt that.”
“You didn’t know me in middle school. In eighth grade I was known as,Julia No Jugs.”
I laughed so hard I could feel my stomach jiggling in the water. “I’m sorry for laughing.”
“It’s funny. I get it. My boobs didn’t come in until the end of my freshman year.”
“So, what is middle school?” I asked. The whole educational system confused me.
