She smiled back and took a step into the water, then another. “Did you know there’s a tile medallion of a mermaid somewhere on the bottom of this pond? My parents said that people from the campground set it on the bottom. My sister and I, we try to find it every time we come here. Poppy swears she’s seen it, but I don’t believe her.”

“What about you? Have you seen it?”

“I feel like I have. Like I can picture it in my mind’s eye.”

“You can only see it on magic nights like this, in the moonlight. Someone put a spell on it, just for people like us, a couple of fools who still want to believe.” Anthony walked closer to her. “Can I kiss you, Ann? Just once, before summer is over?”

Once sounded safe. Fun. Interesting. Just enough. And she’d wanted him to kiss her all summer even though—no. She tried to convince herself that nothing else was real but that moment. “Sure, I guess.”

He grabbed her chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilted her head up. He wasn’t much taller than she was. He leaned forward and she felt a strange tickle from the softness of his beard, followed by his lips pressing against hers. She thought of Michael, the perfection of that kiss, how it had sounded like an accusation when she asked if he loved her, when she meant it as a question. If she hadn’t been so surprised, and if he hadn’t run away, she might have told him that she loved him, too. Why was she thinking about Michael when Anthony’s tongue darted into her mouth, thrusting and urgent—too much. She pulled away.

“You have no goddamn idea how beautiful you are.” He shook his head and started unbuttoning his shirt. “You’re ripe.”

Ann soaked up his flattery, every word, even though she’d always known she was pretty. The boys at school asked her out, but they were just boys. She’d fool around with them sometimes when she was drunk. She was curious about sex, but she never went too far.

Anthony began to unbutton his shirt. “Swim with me.”

“I don’t have a suit.”

He shrugged. “You have the one you were born in. Besides, you’re already soaked.”

Ann laughed for no reason. She was nervous, and at the nervous edge of desire.

Anthony stripped his shirt off. His chest was covered in a mat of thick, black hair. His body wasn’t perfect the way she’d imagined it would be. He looked older without his shirt on, more like a middle-aged dad. Even in the dark she could see the dim outline of the farmer’s tan on his thick forearms. His stomach bulged a little over the waist of his shorts.