Learning to Swim by Cheryl Klam Read Free Book Online

that I would have my own TCI, just because I had tempted fate and the love lunacy gods by taking swim lessons with my fantasy guy even though I knew my mother would jump on me like a monkey on a cupcake if she found out, did not necessarily mean I was doomed to repeat the history of those who'd gone before me. My mother's fears didn't have to be my own, right?
    “Keep your arms over the top of the board. And move your legs like this,” he said happily, making a scissoring motion with his legs. He seemed to be genuinely enjoying this, and it just made him even cuter. “Don't be afraid to let it rip. I want to see some really hard kicks.”
    Keith gave me a little push into the water. I held on to the sides of the board and began to kick. I reached the end and stopped. A surge of pride and freedom ripped through me and I turned around and smiled at Keith. He was beaming right back at me.
    “Awesome, Steffie.” He nodded toward the opposite side of the pool. “Keep it going.” And so I shoved off again, reaching the other side and turning around. After a while, I got so good that I didn't even have to stop and stand up, I just swung my board around and kept going.
    “Nice work,” Keith said finally. “I think that's enough for tonight.” He took my board and said, “How do you feel?”
    “Good,” I said.
    But that was a huge understatement. I felt
great.
The combination of propelling myself through the water and accomplishing this big feat and being alone with Keith had made it one of the best nights of my life, one that I didn't want to end. I stood directly in front of him, my feet firmly planted on the bottom of the pool.
    “Why don't you come back on Friday,” he said. “Same time.”
    Then he took a piece of my hair and brushed it out of my eyes. I was almost sure it was something a boyfriend would do.
    But when Keith leapt out of the pool, dripping wet and still full of energy, I remembered there was someone in his life who would definitely know for sure.
    That was why I raced to the ladies’ locker room and threw up my dinner.

5
    Up until then, my love life could have been summed up in one word:
nada.
    As in nothing. As in no action at all. Except for the time I went to second base. But I didn't really count that because:
It wasn't like I was really dating the guy—I just met him at a party and he asked if I wanted to make out and I said yes.
The makeout session lasted about one minute and consisted of him sticking his tongue in my mouth and swirling it around like a sonic toothbrush while giving my boob a quick honk (which caused me to laugh so hard that he got all insulted and left).
The next day when I saw him in school, he didn't even acknowledge me.
    I'd never experienced a tender moment when someone cared enough about me to brush the hair out of my eyes. Not that Keith brushing the hair out of my eyes actually meant anything.
    “Alice, when I get married, will you be my maid of honor?”
    It was late Friday afternoon and she and I were cleaning the tile grout in one of the ballroom lavatories. She put down her Tilex. “Steffie. He brushed your hair back. Let's not get ahead of ourselves.”
    “This has nothing to do with Keith,” I said, throwing my scrub brush back into Alice's bucket and dashing out to the ballroom. I mean
really.
What had inspired Alice to bring up Keith? Especially considering the fact that, since I had arrived at work, I had done everything
but
talk about Keith. (I had already called Alice when I got home from my swimming lesson and described everything in detail.)
    In fact, I had purposely kept the conversation light and non-Keith related. So far, we had talked about whether or not love at first sight existed (Alice didn't think so but I knew otherwise), whether it was better to marry a rich man or a poor man (no-brainer), and whether it was better to have a big wedding or small (Alice had small but I voted big). So I really didn't know what in the world Alice was