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She’s fucking swimming.
Swimming!
My Junie.
Okay, maybe not swimming like with backstrokes or anything, but she’s learned to float on her back unassisted and knows how to doggy paddle over to the dock on her own from a few yards away.
Watching Reid with her went from one of the most terrifying things I’ve ever seen during that first session in the lake a few weeks ago to something that fills me with pride and joy every time I see her in the water. Obviously, being vigilant about Junie’s safety is of the utmost importance, but I didn’t realize how much anxiety I was holding on to by living near the water until I felt more sure that if Junie were to fall in for some tragic reason, she wouldn’t sink like a stone.
And it’s all because of Reid.
Junie launches herself off the dock and into the water. Unlike that first time we all got together, Reid is floating a foot or two away from where she lands, waiting for Junie to emerge with her goggles and begin paddling. Which she does, like the budding Olympian she is.
“Mommy, you see?” she calls out once she’s in Reid’s arms and he’s hoisting her up so she’s standing on his shoulders.
“I did see, baby!” I call out from where I’m seated on the dock, my legs crossed.
“I’n a big girl!”
“You are!”
She shrieks then jumps off his shoulders and into the water, emerging again, her tiny body bouncing rapidly as she treads water and makes her way back to Reid.
“I might have done something bad,” Reid tells me, grinning sheepishly as Junie clings to his shoulders, trying to climb back up to her perch with little care about where she puts her feet.
I chuckle, watching the circus. “And what did you do?”
“I bought a window unit and installed it in my bedroom.”
My mouth opens, my eyes wide. “Shut up.”
Junie jumps again, making a big splash, some of which lands on me, but I hardly notice.
“Lois is going to chew me out, but I don’t care,” he says. “We’re supposed to get another heat wave in the next week or two and I’m not going to lie in a pool of my own sweat again. I’m just not.”
I give him an imaginary fist bump. “I’m so happy for you and not at all jealous.”
Reid laughs. “You’re welcome to come over any time.”
I nod, though I doubt I’ll take him up on his offer. As great as things have been over the past few weeks, I have to be careful about how closely I skirt that line that exists between us, the one that separates things that friends do and things that lovers do.
People who are dating hang out at their boyfriend’s house. Friends sit on his porch.
People who are in love go out on dates in town. Friends go swimming then eat neon mac and cheese.
It’s becoming a thing I ask myself any time we’re together: Is this something I would do if I wasn’t half in love with him?
Because, try as I might, I’ve realized I’ve been falling for Reid Cohen. If anything, it’s only gotten worse over the past few weeks. I say worse because there is nothing more hellish than unrequited love, a new truth I’ve had to learn.
And the thing I keep going around and around in circles about is the fact that it doesn’tfeelunrequited in the slightest. It feels very much requited. In the way he talks to me, the way he looks at me, the way he smiles in my direction and how his eyes flick over me as I walk his way. It’s been an infuriating reality I’ve had to come to accept even though I don’t understand it, and that is my least favorite thing in the world. The last thing I am going to do is ask him about it. What am I going to say?
Are you sure we can’t be together? Because you look at me like you want me.
Gag. Talk about desperate.
So I’m just trying to focus on how grateful I am for his friendship and how he treats Junie, even though each day is an exercise in ignoring how much I want to climb him like a tree. It doesn’t help that I can’thandle thingson my own, either. And I havetried. Continuously. With practically no success. It makes me think I need to revisit the idea of going out and finding a one-night stand, someone who can just…handle things for me.
