Beige by Cecil Castellucci Read Free Book Online

the couch with his drumsticks hitting on a practice pad.
    “It’s unbearable now,” I say.
    “At least it’s not humid,” The Rat says. “God, I hate humid.”
    “But it’s still hot.”
    Hot as Hell,
I think.
    “Go take a swim,” The Rat says without looking up from his
SPIN
magazine. “Knock yourself out.”
    I wonder if he really means,
Get out of here — I’m reading.
    I leave my lunch on the table and head to my room to put on my bathing suit. Standing in front of the full-length mirror, I can tell one thing for sure: it’s a good thing I’m not staying here for too long, or I’d be an embarrassment.
    I’m sure I look West Coast terrible.
    I’m paler than pale and I have no boobs to fill the top of my swimsuit. Leticia calls them speed tits.
    She calls hers bodacious tatas.
    She always rubs it in. She looks like a woman, and I still look like a little girl.
    When I go back to the kitchen, The Rat hasn’t moved. I open the freezer and get a piece of ice to suck on, then I go to the balcony and check out the pool action. I don’t want to go down there if that boy is swimming. I don’t want him to see me in my bathing suit. But he’s not there. There’s only a lady sporting a big orange hat, sunning herself in one of the lounge chairs.
    I pop the ice out of my mouth and rub it on the back of my neck and my wrists as I head down to the pool.
    The woman looks up at me as I open the gate.
    “You must be Beau’s girl.”
    “Yah. Katy.”
    I start to put my foot in the pool.
    “I’m not going to be responsible for you,” she says, eyes on her magazine.
    “Excuse me?”
    “No minors can swim without adult supervision.” She points at a sign.
    I look to where she’s pointed and she’s right: tacked onto the gate is a sign that says no minors are allowed to swim without adult supervision.
    “Well, what am I supposed to do?”
    “Not my problem,” the woman says, still not looking up.
    I consider going upstairs to get The Rat, but for the first time since I’ve arrived in Los Angeles, I’m alone, and I want to keep it that way for just a bit longer.
    I could disobey the rules. I could just swim anyway. I could be the kind of girl who would break the rules. But I know I’m not. I just sit down on the edge of the pool and slip my legs into the cool water and then lie back onto the cement and look up at the blue cloudless sky.
    A silver glint catches my eyes, and I scan the balconies facing the courtyard. My eyes fall on the swimmer from the other day. He’s sitting on his balcony, talking on the phone. I watch him as his mouth forms O’s as he speaks. He looks exactly like the kind of boy that you would meet in California. He’s tan. He’s fit. He’s beautiful.
    If I could meet him, I could go back home with a real story. He could save me from having a bad time here. Like a knight in shining armor. Maybe he’s a TV star. He’s that dreamy. I could just say he was. I could brag about it to Leticia. My time in Hollywood hanging out with a famous actor.
    “People make the best sunshade, don’t you think?” A woman holding a toddler towers over me, effectively blocking the sun. She is wearing a black vintage swimsuit and a straw hat and cat-eye sunglasses. Tattooed around the entire top of her right arm is a ring of fairies afloat on a field of flowers, and on the bicep of her left sits a mermaid. She has an anchor tattooed on her forearm.
    “Do you want to swim?” she asks.
    “Yeah.”
    “I’ll watch you.”
    Her baby is blond and bubbly. He reaches for me.
    “Mine,” he says.
    “This is Auggie. I’m Trixie. You must be Katy.”
    “Yeah,” I say, getting up to shake her hand.
    She puts down Auggie and opens up her bag, which is covered with a skull-and-crossbones motif, unlike any diaper bag I’ve ever seen. She pulls out a little life vest and straps it onto him.
    “Go ahead. I’ll watch. Besides, as long as Leo is up on his balcony, we’re all safe,” Trixie says.
    Leo.