When she and Billy were in elementary school together, they’d been buddies. Terri had been a tomboy, strong from all she did at the lake, so she could keep up with Billy on the playground. When the school set up swimming classes at a nearby pool, Billy had been impressed when Terri swam the length easily and quickly.
But by the time they reached the seventh grade, the sexes began to separate. It was like the Garden of Eden and the kids became aware of bodies and feelings they didn’t understand. Terri hadn’t had time to be part of all that. By that time, she’d gro
wn tall and knew enough that she was a good help to her dad and Uncle Jake. She worked before and after school and on weekends. In the summer she was working every minute.
One day in the last months of their junior year, Billy stopped at Terri’s locker and asked what she was doing on Saturday. “Cleaning the oil filters,” or some such was her answer.
“I could save you a seat at the game,” Billy said.
“That would be nice. There are some bored teenagers at the lake now. They’d probably like to go. Thanks.” She turned away to head to class.
Billy caught her arm. “I meant for you. Come to the game and after we can go get something to eat.”
“Can’t. Sorry. Too much to do.” She’d run to her class.
When Terri looked back on it, she was astonished that she’d been so oblivious to Billy’s attempts to ask her out on a date. But then, so many of the kids sucked up to her in the hopes of getting something for free at the lake that she’d learned to ignore them. The girls showed up whenever something like a soccer team booked cabins. The boys came to see some female swimmers. And when they did, they acted as though Terri was their best friend.
For all that Terri didn’t participate with the others at school, she was certainly feeling what they did. It was just that she kept everything at the lake. There was kissing behind the boathouse. Behind the pizza stand, a guy’s hand slipped under her shirt. Nothing was particularly serious, just fun and laughter. And nothing was with any of the Summer Hill kids.
But then, Terri had worked hard to learn not to concern herself with was what was going on in the little town. Since her mother had run off and left her and her dad, meaning all of Terri’s life, she’d heard whispers. “Isn’t that the girl whose mother...?”
In the ninth grade, there had been that incident in a stairwell when Hector and his friend tried to slam Terri up against a wall. It was after school and the building was nearly empty. The heavy fire door would prevent anyone from hearing her yell. Hector said, “Come on, you know you want it. Everybody says you’re just like your mother.”
Terri had gone into a blind rage. She’d used her backpack as a weapon and tapped into every muscle she’d made at the lake. She’d had to duck booms and flying oars since she could walk, so she was agile. When she came back to reality, there were two boys on the floor. She threw open the door and ran into the empty hall.
She would have left it there and never spoken of it, but a bunch of cheerleaders, Stacy Hartman one of them, saw the boys crumpled on the floor and asked what happened. Of course the boys had to save their male pride and say they had been attacked without reason. With sad faces of suffering, they let the pretty girls put their arms around them to help them walk.
In the ensuing weeks, the boys exaggerated what had happened in the stairwell to make it seem that Terri had attacked them with weapons.
Terri, her father beside her, had made only one attempt to defend herself by telling the truth. Right away, she saw that it was a lost cause. She was not popular in school and had no defenders, while the boys were the stars of the football team. They were needed; Terri was not.
Brody had been so angry about it all that he’d lost his temper—which hadn’t helped. His rage was the final straw. It seemed to be proof that Terri had done just what the boys said she had.
The boys got off with no punishment, while Terri was expelled for three days. Worse was that one of the boys, Hector, blamed the incident for his failure to become a professional football player. Terri had yet another mark against her.
All in all, it had made her disconnect even more from the people of Summer Hill.
But she’d been content. She had the people at the lake, all of whom liked her. And eventually she began planning for college and what she was going to do afterward. Maybe after college she’d go into marine biology. Maybe she’d change from freshwater to salt. Oh! but she’d had plans.
But then, the summer before her senior year, Billy Thorndyke changed her life. The day after school let out, he showed up at the lake and asked Terri to teach him to swim.
“You know how to swim,” she told him.
“But not like you do. I might want to join the swim team.”
She pointedly looked him up and down. He had on baggy swim trunks and a towel around his neck. He had the body of a football player, not the long, sleek muscles of a swimmer.
He grinned at her insinuation. “Okay, so maybe the coach wants me to improve my running. I thought maybe swimming would help.”
She knew he was lying but she had no idea why. She’d have to check the reservations. Maybe some celebrity had booked and he’d learned about it and wanted to be there when he/she arrived. She told Billy to return at two for his first class.
When he came back that afternoon, Terri put him in with her six-year-olds and under. She thought he’d be so insulted that he’d leave, but putting Billy with little kids was like pouring chocolate sauce over ice cream. The children went crazy with delight at the very sight of him. They unanimously decided to see how many of them could sit, lie, hold on to Billy while he swam the length of the pool.
After only ten minutes, Terri gave up trying to restore order for lessons. Instead, she helped the children come up with ways to attach themselves to Billy. After thirty minutes, half the lake was there yelling encouragement to Billy to swim harder. Kids held on to his neck, shoulders, waist, legs.
At the end, he had the whole class attached to him, and there were fifty people around the pool shouting at him to go! go! go!
He made it the entire length, then pulled himself out and took a bow. Only Terri saw beneath his bravado. He was so deeply exhausted, he was about to pass out. To do so in front of all those people would do irreparable damage to his teenage male ego.