“I don’t know,” she said, shifting from foot to foot. She looked toward the water, biting her lip. “I’m not sure . . .”
“Come on.” I smiled at her. “It’ll be fun.” And without waiting, without thinking about it, I dropped my towel and ran toward the water, feeling the cool night air on my skin, feeling utterly free, my hair streaming out behind me, as I splashed into the water and then extended my arms above my head and dove under.
When I surfaced, I saw Dawn plunging into the water as well, doing more of a belly-flop than a dive, emerging with her hair plastered down. “That iscold!” she gasped, grinning at me. “Oh my god.”
But cold or not, the water felt amazing, and I realized just how different it was from swimming with a bathing suit on. It reminded me of sleeping under the stars—with nothing between you and the elements.
Soon, it just felt normal to be swimming together like this—you couldn’t really see anything under the water, anyway. The four of us would swim on our own and then come back together, and even when we were just treading water or standing with our feet touching the sand, talking, it felt that much more exciting, because I knew that under the water, we were all naked.
After we’d been in the water for a while, I swam apart from the group, out of view, so that I could just float on my back and look up at the sky. I was aware of Collins calling to us, saying that the C-dawg was getting out, and then the sound of splashing as he presumably made his way up to the beach. I let myself float there for just a little while, feeling really content and at peace. I was still a little amazed that this was happening. That this, the thing that had seemed so impossible, so terrifying, so utterly beyond me, was happening. I was having fun. And that I was the one who made it happen. “I did it,” I said out loud, sending my voice up to the stars above me, not really caring if the others heard me.
“Guys?” Dawn called, her voice sounding worried. I ducked under the water and surfaced again, smoothing my hair down and swimming over to her. “Where are our towels?”
I looked toward the beach as well, and saw what she meant. The towels that she and I had left there were nowhere to be seen. I could see my clothes, in a pile way up the beach, but the thought of running across that expanse of sand, naked, did not seem that appealing.
“Collins!” I yelled, as Frank swam over toward us.
“What’s the problem?” he asked.
“Our towels are gone,” I said, still scanning the sand for them.
“What?” Collins asked, emerging on Frank’s deck, dressed in shorts and an oversized sweater. I realized after a moment that I could tell they were Frank’s clothes.
“Are you wearing my clothes?” Frank yelled, and Collins shrugged.
“I was cold,” he called back. “Is there some sort of problem?”
“What did you do with the towels, Collins?”
“Me?” he asked, looking offended. “Nothing. Why would you presume it was me?”
“Who else would it be?” Dawn asked.
“I don’t know,” Collins said with a shrug. “Beach hobos? See you guys inside.” He gave us all a grin and disappeared back in the house.
“I’m going to kill him,” Frank muttered as he looked over at me. I hadn’t realized he’d come quite so close, and especially after we’d danced together, it was disconcerting to realize that Frank Porter was naked, right next to me. And that I was naked right next to him, with nothing separating us but water.
“I see them!” Dawn said, pointing. The towels were neatly folded, almost at the top of the beach by Frank’s steps. “Should we go one by one, or . . . ?”
“On the count of three, maybe?” Frank suggested.
“Let’s just go!” I yelled, as I splashed out of the water, running toward the beach. I was half yelling and half laughing as I went, feeling the warm night air on my skin. I heard splashing behind me and figured that Frank and Dawn had started running as well.
Someone crashed into me—it was Dawn, running with her eyes closed. “God! Sorry!” she yelped as she changed direction, and started running toward Frank’s neighbor’s house.
“Dawn,” I called. I looked around, just to try and see if I was heading in the right direction, and saw Frank’s bare back in the moonlight, then immediately looked away again. I ran faster, then realized I was reaching the towels at the same time as Frank. “Sorry,” I said as we both turned away, but not before I saw a full view of those abs that I’d only gotten glimpses of before.
Some part of me realized how absurd this was, Frank and I standing next to each other—naked—neither of us sure where to look or who was going to get a towel first. I kept looking over at him, then immediately looking away, trying not to see too much, but getting quick flashes—Frank’s chest, his jawline, his hipbone . . .
I crossed my arms over my chest and turned my head just slightly to see that Frank was looking away. “I’ll get a towel first?” I asked, and he nodded. I grabbed one from the pile and wrapped it around me. I took another for Dawn, who was still running in the wrong direction, weaving up the beach.
“Got it,” I said to Frank, and then turned my head away before I saw anything else. “Dawn!” I yelled to her, holding out the towel in front of my face. “Come toward my voice!”
“Thank you,” Dawn said as she hurried over to me and took the towel. “I couldn’t see where I was going!”
“Who knows, the Farrellys probably wouldn’t have minded,” Frank said as he came over to us, his towel riding low on his hips. I felt myself swallow hard, thinking of the full glimpse I’d just gotten, and also wondering if there was a way I could suggest that he maybe stop wearing a shirt on our runs.
“I’ve got your clothes,” Dawn said, snapping me out of this and making me realize I was still staring at Frank’s bare chest.
“Right,” I said, suddenly feeling very warm, despite the fact the water had been cold and I’d been shivering a few minutes ago. We headed up to the deck, where Collins was now standing, a mug in his hand and a satisfied smile on his face.
“I’m going to kill you,” Frank told him matter-of-factly.
“Oh, come on. Admit it, that was much more fun,” Collins said. “The real skinny-dipping experience. You’re all welcome. Now, who wants hot chocolate?”
By the time I pulled into my driveway, it was almost light out. Frank had found clothes for me, since I really didn’t want to attempt to get back into a formal dress after an ocean swim—a soft pair of gray sweatpants, and the academic decathlon shirt he’d worn the first day we’d gone running together. We ended up just sitting around Frank’s kitchen island, drinking the hot chocolate Collins had made, and then finally just eating all the marshmallows, until it was almost five. Then Dawn and I headed home, Collins crashed on Frank’s couch, and Frank waved good night to us from his doorway.
I killed the engine and caught my reflection in the rearview mirror. My hair was in tangles, and the wedding makeup I’d worn was half washed off, half smeared under my eyes. But my cheeks were flushed and even though I looked like a mess, I looked happy. I looked like someone who’d had a night, and had a story to tell about it. Which was, I realized as I collected my dress and heels in my arms and made my way, yawning, to the front door in the cool early light, exactly what had happened.
13
THE BACKLESS DRESS. AND SOMEWHERE TO WEAR IT
“Hello?” I answered my phone without opening my eyes. It was two days after we’d gone skinny-dipping, and far too early to be awake if I wasn’t going to be out running. And since Frank had gone camping with Collins, I wasn’t running—which meant I should still be sleeping.
“Morning,” Frank said, far too cheerful in the morning as usual, and I rolled onto my side, eyes still closed, holding my phone up to my ear.
“Hey,” I said, smiling. “How’s the camping trip?”