Wrong About the Guy

Aaron stood up. “Are you a jump-right-in kind of person or a slowly-get-acclimated kind of person?”

I clambered up. “Slowly get acclimated. Or not get acclimated at all and stay dry in the sun.”

“In that case, let me help you.” He caught me around my waist and spun me out toward the pool. “Ready?”

I nodded, so he gave me a gentle shove and I let myself tumble in. He jumped in right after and I scolded him for splashing me inadvertently, and then when he apologized, I splashed him right in the face.

He mock snarled and whipped his head back to get the wet hair out of his eyes and dove under the water. I turned, trying to see where he was going, and felt him touch the back of my leg. I turned again, in that direction, just as he surfaced on the other side and flicked a palmful of water right at me.

We fooled around like that for a while, splashing and laughing and sinking down and springing up until we were out of breath. Then we swam over to the edge of the pool, where we clung on, slowly cycling our legs in the water, while we talked about stuff like movies and restaurants, and Michael steadily did laps behind us—another adult who saw the pool as exercise, not fun.

After about ten more minutes, he swam to the steps, got out, shook himself off, and said, “That’s it for me.” He disappeared into the changing room and came back out a few minutes later, dressed and dry, and headed back to the group.

The gates clanged again, interrupting my list of the best coffee shops on the west side of LA. I looked over and was surprised to see George Nussbaum walking in, awkwardly carrying Jacob low in his arms. As soon as he saw me, Jacob struggled to get down. George set him squarely on his feet and Jacob ran over to the edge of the pool and held his arms out to me.

“You want to swim?” I said, and he took a step toward the pool like he was going to walk right into it. “Whoa! Stop!” I reached up to hold on to his leg so he couldn’t jump in. “Not yet. You need a swim diaper.” I looked up at George, who had come closer. “Can you go get him one? They’re in the top drawer in the middle changing room.”

“Yeah, okay.” He was wearing jeans and his usual long-sleeved oxford—although today the sleeves were rolled to just below his elbow. “Hi,” he said, his eyes settling on Aaron. “I’m George.”

“Aaron.”

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“Tutoring. I thought.”

“Tutoring?” Aaron repeated. “School hasn’t even started yet.”

“SATs,” I explained. “Mom found out that George went to Harvard and practically wet herself. She thinks the Ivy League is contagious, so he comes over once in a while and says stuff like, ‘What does epitome mean?’”

“And do you know?” Aaron asked.

“Of course I do.”

“Brilliant and modest,” he said admiringly. “The perfect woman.”

I fluttered my eyelashes at him before looking back up at George. “I thought I told you last week that I had plans today.”

“You always say you have plans. And your mom confirmed the appointment when I texted her a couple of days ago.”

Jacob knelt down next to the pool and dipped his fingers in the water, then raised his hand so he could watch the drips fall.

“She invited me to join you for di

“You should stay.” I decided to be generous and forgive him for being mean about Heather. “There’s a ton of food. If you want to come swim with us, there are men’s suits in the same changing room that has Jacob’s swim diapers. Speaking of which—”

“Oh, right. I’ll get that now. Want me to put it on him?”

“He won’t let you,” I said. “Just bring it here.”

He nodded and made his way into the changing room.

“How is he your tutor?” Aaron asked, lowering his voice. “He looks like he’s our age.”

“He’s not that much older—just precocious. He went to college when he was like sixteen. According to his brother, he got a perfect score on the SATs.”

“The SATs are overrated. Everyone knows the real test of brilliance is being able to balance a Styrofoam noodle on the palm of your hand.” He proceeded to demonstrate with admirable dexterity.

I tried to get Jacob to look at Aaron’s trick, but he was too fascinated by the water ru

“Here you go.” George had returned and was studying the swim diaper in his hand. “How is it different from a regular one?”

“It holds the poop in but lets the pee out.”

“‘Out’ as in . . . into the pool?”

I nodded.

“I really would have preferred not to know that.” Aaron eyed the water with sudden suspicion.

“Oh, relax,” I said. “The chlorine kills everything. George, you should go swimming before it’s completely dark out.”

He hesitated, then said, “Yeah.” He started to walk toward the changing room, halted, looked like he was going to say something, then just shook his head and disappeared inside.

“So that’s the sort of genius that gets into Harvard, huh?” Aaron said.

“Him’s got book larning.” I got out of the pool and changed Jacob into the swim diaper. “What do you say, baby dude? Ready to take the plunge?” I picked him up and he wrapped his legs around my waist and his arms around my neck. I walked over to the steps and waded back into the pool. I could feel his body tighten as we entered the water. He dug his fingers into me and frowned with concentration—and maybe concern—but he didn’t scream or fight me.

Aaron joined us by the steps and watched as I gently dunked Jacob up to his waist. He shivered and then gave a shuddery laugh.

“I wish Mia were older,” Aaron said. “She’s still too little to be much fun.”

“What’s it like living with the three of them?”

“It’s fine. No one much cares when I come and go, which is a nice change. My mom can be a little smothering. She means well, but . . .” He shrugged. “She hates that I’m here.”

“How’d you get her to agree to let you come?”

“Dad and I were both kind of relentless about it. And I think her husband was all in favor of the idea. But she’s worried I’ll be corrupted here in Hollywood, with no one to keep an eye on me. Plus she’s not a fan of Crystal’s—thinks she’s a total gold digger.”

“How about you? Do you think Crystal’s a gold digger?” I wondered myself. Michael was rich and famous and middle-aged; Crystal was young and beautiful and had been a struggling, unsuccessful actress when they met. And Michael’s track record with women wasn’t too impressive.

“Not sure yet,” Aaron said. “I’d believe it though.”

I heard a door open and looked around. George was coming out of the changing room in a pair of short purple bathing trunks.

I gave a long wolf whistle and George shot me an exasperated look from across the pool.

“This is ridiculous,” he said, flicking at the suit.

“The important thing is that you wear it so well.”

“Shut up.”

“Shorter trunks are totally in fashion,” Aaron said.

“Not in that color, they’re not,” I said.

Aaron flicked water at me. “You’re mean.”

“It’s not my fault if the truth hurts.”

“I’m not hurt,” George said, sitting on the edge of the pool. “I didn’t pick these out.” He slid carefully into the water.

He took off toward the deep end with long measured strokes.

“Do you think—” I started to say to Aaron, but I was interrupted by Luke’s call of “Kids! Time to eat!” from up above.

“Di

“No,” said Jacob, to my surprise.

“Hot dogs,” I told him. “We’re going to eat hot dogs.”

He lunged so suddenly toward the steps that I almost dropped him.

“Whatever you do, don’t mention the kale salad,” I stage-whispered to Aaron as we climbed out of the pool. “That could turn this right around.”