My Calamity

After lunch at the diner, everyone recruited to my place for some quality swimming in the treacherous heat. It was the type of heat that threatened rain at any moment but for the few hours we had of sun, we stayed content in the cool water of my pool.

I'd spent a good portion of the time with Tallulah on a lawn chair while she tanned and I religiously applied sun screen to my already crisping sensitive skin. She talked animatedly about her relationship with Ben, how she'd become friends with Patrick, and other topics that brought us into deep discussion.

Patrick and Ben played volleyball in the pool for a good portion of that time, till they took to bothering us. Ben swathed Tallulah in his damp arms, cradling her like a child, while he walked back to the pool's edge, whilst Tallulah cried out in a giggles.

Patrick took Tallulah's spot but didn't say anything, and I didn't know what to say. His silence was disconcerting and now that I was thinking about it, he'd been weird ever since we'd gotten to my house.

"Are you alright?" I finally asked, not really expecting him to tell me what was bothering him. I actually really disliked questions like 'are you alright'?' or 'what's wrong?' Typical questions got typical responses.

"Were you ever going to tell me about Jackson?"

I sat up confused, and a little surprised. "What about him?"

Patrick gave me this disgusted look, as if the mere thought of what he was going to say made him sick. "You dated him."

I stifled the laugh that threatened to submerge past my lips, and hid my smile because I knew Patrick was being serious. I was finding it adorably cute that Patrick was jealous. "Jackson and I never dated. Ever. I told you I didn't date."

"There was nothing between you and him?"

"Well, no, he hit on me, and we were partners for a project, but that was it. I wasn't looking for a boyfriend, and if I had been he's not my type as it is. Where'd you hear I'd dated Jackson, anyway?"

"What?" Patrick looked taken aback. I waited. "I – uhm…Ben."

"I see," I responded. "What else?"

"Hm?"

"There's obviously more to it then just him and I dating."

"Why would you say that?"

"Is it bad?" I countered, raising an eyebrow.

Patrick pursed his lips. "Yeah, it's pretty bad." Patrick stood up and took my hands, pulling me to my feet. "Come on, let's go in the water."

He attempted to pull me towards the pool whilst I struggled to stop him and get out of my sundress at the same time. "Wait," I snapped. "I want to know what the rumor was."

"I completely forgot the rest of it, sorry," Patrick responded with a cheeky grin. I glared at him but he seemingly ignored me. "Now hurry up or you're going in in that."

I crossed my arms over my chest, and took two steps back, plopping down on the end of the chair. "I'm not moving till you tell me."

"Oh?" A mischievous smile slid onto Patrick's face, and without a moment's hesitation he sprang towards, me and lifted me over his shoulder. I felt the pointy bone of his bare shoulder prod into my side, and my hands desperately hit at his back trying to get him to put me down.

The next thing I knew I was crashing under waves of water, and my dress, my dry-clean only dress, was billowing out around me, and I could hear laughter but my mind was muddled with water, and when I resurfaced I was staring straight at the source of the laughter, and as gorgeous as he was, I glared the best glare I could muster in the moment, but it didn't matter because beneath it I was smiling.

"It's not funny," I said through my smile, as I waded to the side of the pool. I climbed up over the side, and made my way to the porch.

"Where ya' going?" Patrick called from the side.

I stopped and turned around to look at him. He was leaning his chin on his folded arms, and it looked awfully adorable. I felt my grin widen without my mind's consent. "To take this off," I gestured to my dress, "and put on some music."

Patrick nodded his head and turned back to Tallulah and Ben who were fighting over the volleyball and I continued up the porch tugging the sopping wet caftan over my head. I was wearing my favorite bikini, it was a bit revealing – for a bikini that is – and I felt a wave of self consciousness fall over me.

I quickly brushed it aside as I laid the dress out on the banister to dry, and then walked into the kitchen to turn the outside speakers on. Bedrock began blaring through the speakers and I heard Tallulah squeal before belching the lyrics. The song ended as I skirted around the island to retrieve some drinks from the refrigerator. Adele, the house maid appeared then, and she shooed me away from the door.

"I'll serve the drinks, go back outside with your friends," she said, her voice thick with a Russian accent. I nodded my head before thanking her, and turning to the door.

Tallulah was standing in the doorway looking angry. "I hate this song!"

I laughed before walking over to the radio and changing the station. OMG by Usher began playing, and Tallulah smiled before walking back out on the porch.

"You make me wanna' say," I sang as I walked out. I watched Tallulah dance her way back to the pool. I leaned against the banister, and watched the three of them. The sun was slowly receding behind graying clouds, but it was still feverishly hot. My skin was burning, begging for the pool, but my feet were planted where they were.

I stared at Tallulah and Ben and couldn't help but smile at the couple. Even if everything they symbolized went against what I believed in, I couldn't deny what they had was special.

"Penelope!" I looked over at Patrick who was back to leaning against the side of the pool. He gestured me over, and I scrunched my nose and shook my head, even though my back was on fire. Patrick gave me a challenging look telling me if I didn't walk over there, he was coming to get me.

I sighed and urged my feet down the porch steps towards the water. I plopped down just as Just the Way You Are started playing, and looked up at Patrick. He was still a few inches taller me even in the water.

"You look red," he told me, brushing his hand over my arm.

I shrugged my shoulders stubbornly. "I put sunscreen on." I knew I needed to apply some more but I was far too lazy to move again. The consequences would vary from red skin to bad sunburn but I didn't care about either in that moment.

Patrick slipped his arm around my waist, and pulled me off the side of pool, to stand in the water. The coldness was a rude awakening, and it soaked my once-dried bikini, sending goosebumps up my burning arms.

I wrapped my arms around Patrick's neck knowing this was going to be one of those moments, but welcoming it, when Tallulah cried, "Volleyball! Boys versus girls."

Patrick sighed through his nose like a bull, and I gave him a soft smile, before dropping my arms. I backed away from him, my eyes not leaving his, and I could undeniably see the lust burning in them as they mirrored my own eyes.

The first few rounds of the water volleyball we failed miserably. Whenever we hit the ball, it went the opposite way we wanted, and we kept bumping into each other. Ben and Patrick moved through the water languidly, as if they'd been born in water. They were perfect together.

Tallulah pulled me off to the corner after we lost another round, and dipped her head close. I looked at her, confused. "Alright, this isn't working," she whispered, hastily wiping her blond hair back from her face.

"So what do we do? Forfeit?"

"No! Of course not! We play dirty."

"And by that you mean?"

Tallulah let a Cheshire cat grin slither onto her face, revealing her two front teeth with the mild gap. It was the only real flaw on her, and it wasn't really a flaw. The imperfection took away from the surreality of her beauty. "How well can you seduce?"

My eyes grew wide, and mouth felt like cotton. I did not like where she was going with this. Incidentally, the next song to play on the radio was Pot Kettle Black, a very inspiring song that got us both pumped.

Tallulah stepped back to serve the ball over, and I walked up close to the next, and slid my bottoms down lower on my hips, thankful I'd gotten a wax recently. I raised my arms over my head as if I were stretching, and then tousled my hair. Tallulah hit the ball over, and it landed between the two, neither of them responding to it. I felt a heat rise in my cheeks at such foul play, but then Tallulah clapped me on the back and I didn't feel as bad anymore.

In the end, we only lost by a few points to the boys, but Patrick had definitely figured out what we'd been doing. He was giving me this odd look, which I was kindly ignoring.

When we finished the game Patrick slid under the net and made his way to me. I did my best to skirt through the water to the edge, but Patrick caught my arm, stopping me.

"I know what you two were doing."

I played the innocent card. "Oh? And what were we doing?"

"Penelope, Ben and I are going to leave before the storm sets in," Tallulah called from the porch. I smirked at Patrick before pulling out of his grip and getting out of the pool. I made my way up the porch to the two, and grabbed one of the towels Adele had left out. There were cans of coke on the table too, but they were probably warm by now, so I disregarded them.

Patrick followed up the stairs after me and I handed him a towel. He draped it over his shoulder but made no show of drying his chest, or hair. I shrugged and rung out the water in my hair, and then quickly wiped myself down.

"We'll go around so we don't track water in your house," Tallulah said as she gathered her bag, and laced her fingers through Ben's.

Patrick and I followed them down the steps and we walked around the side of the house just as the thunder began to crack to Ben's Mitsubishi. "It was nice meeting you both," I said politely. Tallulah threw herself on me, choking any breath I had left out of me.

"I'll see you tomorrow." She gave me a big smile. I returned it, somewhat.

Ben nodded at me in that guyish way. "Nice meeting you Penelope."

"You too, Ben."

Ben and Patrick said goodbye, and then they left and I began walking back around the house. "What are we doing now?"

"Are you staying for dinner?" I asked as we made our way up the porch, inside.

"Do you want me to stay for dinner?" I looked over at his smug face, and decided not to dignify that with an answer. Instead I turned the radio off, and set the towel down on the island.

"Are you sure you want to stay?" I asked, gesturing to his bathing suit. "You're gonna' be stuck in that."

"Does it make you uncomfortable?" Patrick questioned with an adorably cocky smile.

I stammered, "N-no," then recovered, "I'm going to get the towels outside." I made my way back onto the porch, piling up the damp towels, and when I turned to walk back inside, I walked right into Patrick. I dropped the towels on impact, and the only thing between us was my hands, which I'd cupped together.

Patrick hooked his fingers through the rings on the sides of my hips of my bottoms, and pulled me closer. I felt like I'd been shocked in the backside with 200 volts of electricity when our chests pressed together, and the look he was giving me didn't help my body simmer down.

But then Adele cleared her throat behind me, and I reluctantly slipped out of Patrick's hold, and stepped around him. She had her big knit bag on her shoulder.

"What's wrong?" I asked, my eyebrows furrowing.

"Aimee got in a car accident on her way home from work. She's at the hospital. I already called your mother and let her know. I have to leave, okay?"

Aimee was her twenty-seven year old daughter. I nodded my head. "Yeah, go. I'll be fine here."

"Your mother said you can order out, there's cash in the china cabinet. And you're not to go upstairs. I talked her into allowing Patrick to stay over. Don't abuse the privilege."

I cringed at her words. Embarrassing. That's what that was. I nodded my head nonetheless. "Okay. I hope Aimee's alright." Adele gave me her pretty Russian smile, the one that gave the telltale signs of a once beautiful young lady and then sprinted towards the door with her arthritic legs.

"She doesn't trust you?"

I turned around to look at Patrick, and answered as I picked the towels up, "My mom doesn't trust me. As of late, that is. I don't know, things are complicated."

"Did you give your mom a reason not to trust you?"

We walked back into the house, and I set the towels down on the island, beside my own. "No, it was my father's – it's just, complicated."

"You can tell me."

I looked him in the eye. "I will. Just not today."

Patrick nodded his head understandingly. I was glad he understood. "What are you ordering?"

"We can figure that out after I put these towels downstairs. Can you get the sodas from outside?" Patrick nodded his head, and murmured an okay. I walked out the room, down the hallway towards the stairs to the basement. I didn't feel like going all the way downstairs to drop the towels off, so instead threw them down the stairs, figuring my mom or Adele would pick them up later.

I walked back down the hallway, towards the stairs and then jogged up to my room. I made my way to my mirror when I entered and stared at my reflection. I'd definitely gotten burnt in the sun. The skin on my cheeks, and nose was red, and there were tan freckles covering me like a pretzel baized in salt.

I sighed before picking up my brush and unknotting my wavy hair. I pulled the mess into a bun, and then crossed the room to find some article of clothing to put on. I found a white tee shirt, in my top drawer and threw that on over my bathing suit which had dried considerably.

I glanced in the mirror one last time, wondering if I should put on some bottoms, but deciding not to, and then returned to the kitchen where Patrick was waiting.

"So I have," I searched through the stack of takeout menus on the counter, "Chinese, Italian, Thai, Spanish, Mexican; what are you in the mood for?"

"I don't care."

"That doesn't really help."

"Okay, tell me what you don't want."

"I don't want Spanish, or Mexican."

"Alright, than Italian?"

"Italian's good. What do you want?"

"I don't care; I'll have what you're having."

"That's really not helpful."

Patrick crossed the kitchen, took the phone off the hook, and handed it to me. "Was that helpful?"

I glared at him, and then pointed across the hall. "You can hang in there, I'll be two seconds." Patrick walked off, and I dialed the number, delivering the girl that picked up my name, address and phone number before ordering the spaghetti.

Afterwards, I hung up the phone, counted out the money from the china cabinet, and then joined Patrick in the TV room. He was sitting on one of the couches, looking at a pink book. As I got closer, I realized it was one of the many photo albums in the room. I immediately grappled towards it, and snatched it out of his hands, holding it behind my back.

"Hey!" Patrick cried reaching for it. I stepped back, trying to keep a distance between us.

"No way," I responded.

"Come on."

"No. Absolutely not. Nope."

"Please?" He used the puppy eyes, and momentarily, I lapsed but then I straightened out my back and held my ground.

"No."

Patrick grabbed at me, and I squealed before I ran, not getting a foot away before he tackled us to the ground. I arched my back, slipped the album underneath it and then flattened against it. Patrick's legs were on either side of me, and he was devastatingly close to me.

"Let me see it."

I shook my head. He raised an eyebrow as if to say 'you're sure about that?' and then he started tickling me. I cried out but didn't budge against the book. My stomach quivered with every giggle, my laughter uncontrollable, and I gasped for air.

My laughter died abruptly, as did Patrick's tickling, and we laid there in silence, him staring at me in the most disconcerting sense. Finally, I cleared my throat, and shifted. "Why are you staring at me like that?" I whispered.

"Like what?" he asked huskily.

My mouth moved without my permission. "Like I'm –,"

I didn't have to say it. The word hung in the air. But not for very long for Patrick kissed me, confirming exactly what I hadn't wanted to say.

Beautiful.