It was a question Mickey had wanted to ask from the beginning, but up until that moment, she had feared the answer. She feared the question would wake Ruth up somehow. Would make her rub her eyes and look at Mickey, asking, How did I get here?

But she didn’t feel any fear now. Now she felt nothing but weightlessness.

Ruth put her head in her hands, and Mickey realized she looked sad, sadder than she’d ever seen her.

“I’m sorry,” Mickey said, her hand groping the float for Ruth’s arm. “I didn’t mean to say the wrong thing.”

“No, you didn’t,” Ruth said, catching Mickey’s fingers in hers. “It just makes me sad that you don’t know why I would want to be friends with you. That you don’t know how great you are.”

“Oh, come on—” Mickey started, flapping her hand free.

“No, Mick, I’m serious. You know, when we first became friends, I didn’t know what to expect, but you . . . you’ve changed me.”

“In a good way?”

“I think so,” she answered. “Yes.”

The float was quiet, and Mickey closed her eyes, feeling the gentle rocking of the water.

“Okay,” she exhaled finally. “I’ll do the dare now, and then we can go back and play with the boys more.”

She slapped her hand over her mouth.

“I didn’t mean ‘play with them,’ like, in a dirty way! ’Cept maybe . . .”

She began to fiddle with the clasp of her bra, but her fingers were those of the foam variety favored by sports fans.

“Let me,” Ruth said. The bra fell from her shoulders, and Mickey caught it with both hands.

“I think I’m drunk,” she said, giggling. “And I think I like it.”

Ruth pulled Mickey’s bra from the tangle of her arms and laid it on the float.

Mickey dipped her feet into the lake, raising goose bumps up and down her legs. She was an open current. For the first time in as long as she could remember, the world passed through her with ease.

“Is this how being drunk always feels?”

Ruth twisted her hair over one shoulder.

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

“Anything,” Mickey said, closing her eyes again as she began lowering herself into the water. “You can tell me anything.”

“I’m not supposed to tell you,” Ruth went on. “But I’ve had so much fun here with you and your family—it’s more than fun, really. I love it here. I love it here maybe more than I’ve loved anywhere before. And you’ve all been so nice to me. I’ve never been with anyone like you all. If I had known—”