“Hey.” Your voice sleepy.

“Hey. Did I wake you?” I took a few steps back, feeling out of place.

You heaved yourself up onto your elbows, closed your eyes with force, and opened them again. “I think so. Which is a good thing. I’d have slept until tomorrow morning.” You ran your hands over your face, yawning, and then turned to me as if registering me properly for the first time. “So you came.” You smiled. “You came to learn how to swim after all?”

“I told you I know how to swim.”

You stood and stripped off your T-shirt, running past me and jumping into the water in your trunks.

“Then prove it!” you called, emerging from the water, your hair wet and dark.

“Nah. Not that easy.”

“C’mon! Just your feet, then. You’ll see how good it is.” You waved me over.

I went to the water’s edge, where you were standing expectantly, and looked at the surface. It was see-through, with green, scintillating weeds swaying in the current like wheat in the wind. Your eyes said “C’mon,” and I stepped in. Soft, smooth mud gave way to the soles of my feet, coolness enveloped my ankles.

“See what you’ve been missing out on?” you said, and looked at me with a smile. Late-afternoon light danced on the water and reflected on your face like a caress. I couldn’t say anything, only managed to nod. My belly was knotted and light. You wanted me to get in completely, but I said no. My refusal made you laugh and me even more uncomfortable. “Before camp is over, you’ll be swimming here without any hesitation,” you said, diving in and leaving me standing there in my clothes, the water reaching up to my knees.

I got out and sat by the bank, watching you swim. The sky was turning a darker blue. I wasn’t sure what I was doing there, but I knew I didn’t want to leave. Finally, you emerged, water trickling down your body, hair sticking to your head, striking me with the reality of your presence.

“So why do you come here by yourself, anyway?” I asked as you were drying off. I tried not to stare. “Why are you not with your friends?”

You laughed your light laugh. “What friends?”

I shrugged, trying not to blush. “I always see you sitting with the same people in the canteen.”

“Oh yeah?” Your smile became teasing. Then, to my relief and dismay, you pulled on your T-shirt. “I don’t know,” you said, your head appearing through the neck of the T-shirt. “Why are you not with your friends?”

“I guess it’s nice to be away from the crowd sometimes, to be able to hear yourself think. I go mad when I’m surrounded by others all the time.”

“I guess it’s the same for me, then,” you said, turning around and pulling off your swim shorts, revealing your behind, quickening my pulse. Your ass was powerful, like two great smooth rocks sculpted by the sea. “And the swimming clears my head,” you went on, your voice unchanged, putting on your briefs. “Entirely. It’s like I’m bathing my mind.”