arms, to safety. He could smell her perfume mixing with the chlorine. At the side of the pool he gripped the bar and noticed his mum was wearing a dress, soaked and clinging to her body. The water streaked her make-up. Her dark hair shone in the sunlight.
âAre you okay, dear?â she asked.
Hunter nodded. He stretched his legs and stood up in the pool. His mother touched his cheek with her long fingers. They stood in the pool, looking at each other and the din of splashing and laughing children faded away. After a few moments, they both walked slowly through the water to the steps at the shallow end and got out of the pool. His motherâs dress dripped as they walked back to his towel. Hunter noticed she was shivering, even though it was a warm afternoon.
The next time they visited the pool, his mother arranged for a different instructor. A gruff old woman who tolerated no nonsense and never took her eyes off her students. Hunterâs mum came to every lesson. She wore the same dress, every week. A private joke, between Hunter and her.
He stares once more at his hairstyle reflected in his dadâs mirror. He hates it. He picks up the scissors and starts snipping, not caring where he cuts, just taking off as much hair as he can. Heâs back in the pool, and every snip is one more paddle, one more stroke to safety. Or further into the deep end? Hunter reaches to the back of his head and snips blindly. He feels the tickle of hair against his neck as it falls to the floor. He keeps cutting until his fingers can no longer grip the locks of hair on the back of his head, until thereâs nothing but awkward stubble. He grabs at tufts of hair around his ears and cuts wildly. He doesnât stop until there are no more locks to cut.
Hunter notices heâs breathing heavily, like that day in the pool, short sharp gasps that arenât enough to fill his lungs. He drops the scissors on the floor and looks into the mirror. A grinning bowling ball stares back.
âHa!â
13
jesse
âItâs okay, Trevor,â I whisper. âItâs for a good cause. Kelifa needs the money more than us. And Iâve also emailed the Japanese Embassy, about Kateâs whales.â
Trevor is silent, although the clouds behind him appear to be getting darker. Itâs night outside my window.
âCanât we just turn the other cheek?â I plead.
Trevor frowns. I must have the wrong psalm.
âYou went around helping people,â I reason. âWhy canât I?â I blush. âNot that Iâm comparing myself to you. Youâre ⦠youâre the inspiration. But I wonât tell Dad about that. Heâs a little funny about false gods.â
Thereâs a sound of shuffling outside my room. I put my finger to my lips to alert Trevor. I creep to the door. The shuffling stops. I peer through the keyhole and see an eye staring back at me!
Someone screams!
I jump and stumble across the floor in surprise.
âWhat the?â says a voice.
I scramble back to the door and turn the knob.
Beth and I stare at each other.
âWhat do you think youâre doing?â she demands.
âMe? I was looking through my keyhole and saw something blobby and gruesome!â
âThat was my eye!â she says.
âWell, I wasnât expecting it to be in my keyhole.â
âIt wasnât in anything,â she pauses, âexcept in my face where it belongs.â
âWhy were you spying on me?â I ask.
Beth smirks. âI heard voices. I thought maybe you had someone in your room.â
âWho? Ryan Blake?â I ask.
Beth blushes. âHeâs never been in my room. And if you tell Mum, Iâll deny it! So was it your imaginary friend again, Jesse?â
We both look toward Trevor. His eyes are downcast, as if to say, donât involve me. I decide I could use a real friend for a change. Even if itâs my sister.
âBeth, can you keep a