“My legs are suuuuper tired. I need a seat,” Ruby whined. She plopped herself down in between Connor and Jordan, just assuming they’d scoot over so she would fit, and they did.

“Aww, poor Rubes,” Connor said.

The next bench opened up, and Kayla and the other girls sat down. That only left Jeremy and Annabelle standing there.

“Curb?” Jeremy asked.

Annabelle looked at Connor again and then at Kayla and the others, but it was kind of pathetic, standing there waiting to be included. So she and Jeremy found a spot a few feet away from the benches.

Jeremy glanced over at Kayla before he sat. He’d done that a lot ever since she’d come back from her treatment program last summer: checked on what she was eating and whether she was having fun.

When Kayla had first come home, Jeremy had told Annabelle that it wasn’t easy for her to eat as many calories as she was supposed to, and sometimes breakfast went on for ages because she had to work so hard to eat all the food. Annabelle wondered if it was still tough for Kayla that the plans people made to hang out usually involved eating. Tonight, Kayla had gotten sorbet instead of ice cream, and Annabelle had noticed that in a way she knew she wouldn’t have if it was someone else ordering, which she felt sort of guilty about.

Kayla stuck her tongue out at Jeremy, and he stuck his tongue out back. Then he plopped down right smack next to Annabelle, and she slid away a tiny bit, so Ruby and Jordan and Connor wouldn’t get the wrong idea.

“No Pricey tonight?” Connor asked Kayla, and Kayla hesitated a second before saying, “Um, I think she’s with some people she works with at Beach Buzz.”

Then Connor started talking to Ruby and Jordan, so Annabelle figured she might as well talk to Jeremy.

“How were your races today?” she asked.

He looked down into his ice cream. “I had a PR in the 50 free.”

Annabelle stopped mid-bite. “That’s great! Why didn’t you text me?”

He shrugged. “It’s still not that fast a time.”

“Whatever,” Annabelle said. “It’s a big deal to beat your own record!”

He went to push his hair away from his eyes, even though it still wasn’t long enough to reach his eyebrows.

Annabelle remembered how it had felt in sixth-grade science when Jeremy and Mrs. Mattson had told her she asked smart questions—how that was better than when someone told her what a great swimmer she was or called her pretty, because they were complimenting her for something she didn’t already feel good about, deep down.

“Seriously,” she said. “It’s extra impressive since the other team wasn’t very good. I bet you’ll be able to swim even faster when the competition is stronger.”

Over on the bench, Connor laughed, and Annabelle turned her head. Was it Ruby who had made him laugh like that? Or only Jordan?

“You swam well, too,” Jeremy said. “I mean, obviously.”