impressive in it, as well, I might add.
“Not him,” I said.
Ruth sighed. “No, I guess not.”
I noticed that while Todd might be ignoring us, Scott and Dave definitely weren’t. They both looked away when I glanced in their direction, but there was no question about it: they’d been scoping.
Ruth, however, only had eyes for Todd.
“And you have your tutorial today,” she was pointing out. “I thought that flute guy was pretty hot. You don’t want to smell chlorine-y for
him
, do you?”
“That flute guy” was the wind instructor, a French dude name Jean-Paul something or other. He was kind of hot, in a scruffy-looking French kind of way. But he was a little old for me. I mean, I like my men older, and all, but I think thirty might be pushing it a little. How weird would
that
look at prom?
“I don’t know,” I said as our line moved closer to the water. “He’s Do-able, I guess. But no Hottie.”
I hadn’t realized Karen Sue Hanky was eavesdropping until she spun around and, with flashing but deeply circled eyes, snarled, “I hope you aren’t speaking of Professor Le Blanc. He happens to be a musical genius, you know.”
I rolled my eyes. “Who
isn’t
a musical genius around here?” I wanted to know. “Except you, of course, Karen.”
Ruth, who’d been chewing gum, swallowed it in her effort not to laugh.
“I resent that,” Karen said, slowly turning as red as the letters on the lifeguard’s T-shirt. “I will have you know that I have been practicing for four hours a day, and that my dad’s paying thirty dollars an hour to a professor who’s been giving me private lessons over at the university.”
“Yeah?” I raised my eyebrows. “Gosh, maybe you’ll be able to keep up with the rest of us now.”
Karen narrowed her eyes at me.
But whatever she’d been going to say was drowned out when the lifeguard—who was also pretty cute: definitely Do-able—blew a whistle and yelled, “Birch Tree!”
My fellow birches and I made a run for the water and jumped in simultaneously, with much shrieking and splashing. Some of us were better swimmers than others, and there was much choking and sputtering, and at least one attempted drowning, which the lifeguard spotted. Shane was forced to sit out for twenty minutes. But, otherwise, we had a good time.
I was teaching them a new song—since Pamela had put the kibosh on “I Met a Miss”—when Scott and Dave and Ruth and Karen strolled by with their campers. All of them, I noticed, looked a little bleary around the edges.
“I don’t understand how you can be so wide awake,” Scott said. “Didn’t they keep you up all night?”
“No,” I said. “Not at all.”
“What’s your secret?” Dave wanted to know. “Mine were bouncing off the walls. I had to sleep with a pillow over my head.”
Ruth shook her head. “Their first night away from home,” she said knowingly. “It’s always the toughest. They usually settle down by the third or fourth night, out of sheer exhaustion.”
Karen Sue exhaled gustily. “Not mine, I’ll bet.” She glared at some passing Frangipanis, who giggled and tore off along the path, causing all of us to chime, in unison, “
Walk, don’t run!
”
“They are little monsters,” Karen muttered, under her breath. “Won’t do a thing I say, and the mouths on them! I never heard such language in all my life! And all night long, it was giggle, giggle, giggle.”
“Me, too,” Ruth said tiredly. “They didn’t nod off until around five, I think.”
“Five-thirty for me,” Scott said. He looked at me. “I can’t believe that Shane of yours just slipped off to Slumber land without a fight.”
“Yeah,” Dave said. “What’s your secret?”
I honestly didn’t know any better. I said, cheerfully, “Oh, I just told them all this really long story, and they nodded off right away. We all slept like stones. Didn’t wake up until reveille.”
Ruth, astonished, said, “Really?”
“What
“Not him,” I said.
Ruth sighed. “No, I guess not.”
I noticed that while Todd might be ignoring us, Scott and Dave definitely weren’t. They both looked away when I glanced in their direction, but there was no question about it: they’d been scoping.
Ruth, however, only had eyes for Todd.
“And you have your tutorial today,” she was pointing out. “I thought that flute guy was pretty hot. You don’t want to smell chlorine-y for
him
, do you?”
“That flute guy” was the wind instructor, a French dude name Jean-Paul something or other. He was kind of hot, in a scruffy-looking French kind of way. But he was a little old for me. I mean, I like my men older, and all, but I think thirty might be pushing it a little. How weird would
that
look at prom?
“I don’t know,” I said as our line moved closer to the water. “He’s Do-able, I guess. But no Hottie.”
I hadn’t realized Karen Sue Hanky was eavesdropping until she spun around and, with flashing but deeply circled eyes, snarled, “I hope you aren’t speaking of Professor Le Blanc. He happens to be a musical genius, you know.”
I rolled my eyes. “Who
isn’t
a musical genius around here?” I wanted to know. “Except you, of course, Karen.”
Ruth, who’d been chewing gum, swallowed it in her effort not to laugh.
“I resent that,” Karen said, slowly turning as red as the letters on the lifeguard’s T-shirt. “I will have you know that I have been practicing for four hours a day, and that my dad’s paying thirty dollars an hour to a professor who’s been giving me private lessons over at the university.”
“Yeah?” I raised my eyebrows. “Gosh, maybe you’ll be able to keep up with the rest of us now.”
Karen narrowed her eyes at me.
But whatever she’d been going to say was drowned out when the lifeguard—who was also pretty cute: definitely Do-able—blew a whistle and yelled, “Birch Tree!”
My fellow birches and I made a run for the water and jumped in simultaneously, with much shrieking and splashing. Some of us were better swimmers than others, and there was much choking and sputtering, and at least one attempted drowning, which the lifeguard spotted. Shane was forced to sit out for twenty minutes. But, otherwise, we had a good time.
I was teaching them a new song—since Pamela had put the kibosh on “I Met a Miss”—when Scott and Dave and Ruth and Karen strolled by with their campers. All of them, I noticed, looked a little bleary around the edges.
“I don’t understand how you can be so wide awake,” Scott said. “Didn’t they keep you up all night?”
“No,” I said. “Not at all.”
“What’s your secret?” Dave wanted to know. “Mine were bouncing off the walls. I had to sleep with a pillow over my head.”
Ruth shook her head. “Their first night away from home,” she said knowingly. “It’s always the toughest. They usually settle down by the third or fourth night, out of sheer exhaustion.”
Karen Sue exhaled gustily. “Not mine, I’ll bet.” She glared at some passing Frangipanis, who giggled and tore off along the path, causing all of us to chime, in unison, “
Walk, don’t run!
”
“They are little monsters,” Karen muttered, under her breath. “Won’t do a thing I say, and the mouths on them! I never heard such language in all my life! And all night long, it was giggle, giggle, giggle.”
“Me, too,” Ruth said tiredly. “They didn’t nod off until around five, I think.”
“Five-thirty for me,” Scott said. He looked at me. “I can’t believe that Shane of yours just slipped off to Slumber land without a fight.”
“Yeah,” Dave said. “What’s your secret?”
I honestly didn’t know any better. I said, cheerfully, “Oh, I just told them all this really long story, and they nodded off right away. We all slept like stones. Didn’t wake up until reveille.”
Ruth, astonished, said, “Really?”
“What
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