"Sharks are nocturnal animals," said Emily. The Mexicana swirled her arms and legs hard in the water. She was so skinny that her body seemingly wanted to pierce the water and go down. Her arms were so skinny that they were more like a knife cutting water than the paddles of a sea otter pushing the water. Her lips were purple. The pool water sapped heat from her core that had no fat insulation layer. Her head was quivering a little, when she talked.
"Emily, have you been studying all night for the biology advanced placement test again? You need more boy action in your life. Look over at Taylor. What a back! And those tight buns in his black speedo are tastier than Godiva."
Emily's head was resting on the edge of the pool. Her fingers were reaching back to hold onto the rim to avoid drifting away. Her long blond hair was wet and combed back. The blue swimming cap, goggles, and nose pin were discarded behind her. The water lapped over the edge of the pool to disappear into the gutter. It pushed the items a little around with each wave. The ample breasts were hard to see in the distortion of the water surface. One might have gotten a glimpse that she was wearing a bikini instead of the one-piece swim team uniform for practice.
"I am not going to participate if there are sharks in the ocean at night," stated Ashley with a putty mouth. Her hair was all matted. She easily floated in the pool with the fat that she had. The yellow kickboard was still pinned beneath her knees to make the floating even easier.
"You are stupid! Sharks don't disappear from the ocean during the day. They are there the whole day," said Mike with a big green standing tall next to the pool. He had a red racer Speedo on. His legs and body hair was cleanly shaved off. The water glistened on his smooth body.
"'Cause you are the big, bad shark expert." Ashley's already wide mouth opened even wider.
"Actually, they don't disappear. They activity level increase..." lectured Emily with passion. Mike ignored her. The big hand of the tall 6' 3" lad placed itself on Ashley's black haired, matted head and pushed it underwater. Jessica and Emily immediately grabbed the hand and pulled hard on it. The kneeling lad toppled playfully forward in a summersault. He disappeared under water. The distortion of the surface showed his huge wing span unfold to push forward with big strokes. The sleek silhouette disappeared into the distance into a cluster of color against the blue water background. 25 yard across, the wet pack of muscles slid out of the water and effortlessly pushed out of the pool.
"Tradition is tradition. I'm not going to chicken out," declared Jessica. "Mike likes you. You should make him your towel bearer for the swim team prank."
"Is that prank for real?" asked Ashley.
"Yeah, I saw Taylor pull up in his dad's car at my house yesterday. He talked to my mom for ten minutes or so. He left without ever talking to me. At first, I thought my mom didn't let him in after what he had done to me at the prom. He asked me for his prom date. And then he spent half the prom night talking with that hoe that had ditched him. So, my mom saw the tears in my eyes. And she let me in. She wouldn't tell me what the prank was though. She only had that evil sparkle in her eyes. I think it's going to be something really killer. All she told me was that he told her everything that would happen and that he picked up one of my towels."
"Damn, I wonder if we are going to jump over the fence of the Venice High pool and go for a midnight swim. Did you know that there is this super powerful dye? Only a bottle cap full could turn the whole pool green," said Emily.
NIGHTTIME ROUNDUP
The ocean fog slowly rolled through streets in white tufts. The May sun was gaining strength and heating up the ocean to raise the water into the air. The trees in front of Jessica's house enjoyed wriggling their leaves in the moisture, because it hadn't rained in the sunny Southern California enclave Santa Monica in weeks. The tiny lawn in front of the single family home had a succinct sign: "No dog poop. Period."
"I'm very proud of you," said Jessica's dad at the dinner table. He held a ripped open envelope and a letter with the seal of the University of Santa Barbara in his hand. "Social services is a very respectable major. It is very important work. Of course, I'd have rather that you went to UCLA. However, I understand that you don't want to go where I'm teaching. You want to be independent. You are 18 now. You've got your prom behind you. You are starting your own life. I'm going enjoy your company for these last weeks as much as I can."
"I love you, too, daddy," said Jessica. She hugged her dad heartily.
After a good snuggle, her dad patted her on the back. "It's alright now. You can go up to your room. I know I'm holding you up from texting with your girlfriends."
She kissed him on the cheek and got up to go upstairs. He grabbed her hand in the last moment and looked at her directly. "Don't wear your birthday suit tonight. Wear respectable sleep wear." He gave her a wink with his right eye. She knew that prank night was on. Her bare feet quickly dribbled up the stairs.
Her heart pounded, when she opened the bottom right drawer in her clothing cabinet. Neatly folded was a black pair of boy shorts. The black fabric went in a wide band to make the shape look almost box like. Even though the fabric covered her ample rather than a bikini bottom, it was cut in such a way that your butt would hang out beneath the cut, very daring and sexy. The sleepwear top was a baby doll with spaghetti straps that rod high enough to show her navel. She had carefully selected it to be sexy yet classy.
She put it on. She slipped under the comforter. She noticed the stuffed giraffe next to her head. That old childhood pal was quickly tossed under the bed. She starred at the ceiling, unable to clothes her eyes. Her breathing was hard. She was ready to jump up and run out. The light night shadows painted on the ceiling. Every once in a while, the yellow lights of a car chased across the ceiling. Each time it happened, she held her breath to hear if the car would stop. She could hear her parents turn into their own bedrooms.
Memories of swim meets shot into her head. She remembered the exhilaration of being pulled out of the water after a relay. Her legs were too drained to help her get out. She felt like puking all over the floor. With all the water splashing around from the swimmers, her puke would probably have been distributed over a wide area. And then she was lifted up onto the strong shoulders of the guys in the swim team. Hands grabbed her body all over, even in the intimate places like her butt. To her startle, her wet body slipped and someone's head bobbed against her boobs. She had brought home the winning trophy against their arch rival Venice High. They carried her one time around the whole pool.
All that would be gone. Her teammates were so familiar to her. Of course, she wasn't on the swim team as a little kid. However, it seemed like her teammates had always been around her. There was a strange familiarity among them. There was the time that Mike had messed up a dive from the 10 foot tower. The blood was running so quickly down his face as it mixed with the pool water running out of his hair. Everyone was waiting in the ER, while the doctors stitched him up. There were the crazy dares of snorting a cup of pool water up the nose. The chlorine stung for hours. There were the embarrassing moments, like when she had found out that her white bra was see-through. To avoid missing practice, the lifeguard had given her waterproof Band-Aids. They called her school slut for a week. Though that passed as well.
A car stopped. She held her breath. The doorbell rang. Her parent's bedroom door opened. A stamped of lad feet stormed up the stairs. Her door was thrown up. The ceiling light was turned on. The bright yellow temporarily blinded her.
All this, she had expected. Yet, the reality was so surprising. She froze unable to move. Her comforter was pulled off her body and thrown to the floor. A male hand grabbed her ankle. She saw herself from the outside for a moment: A girl in tasty sleepwear with two muscular swimmers that had stormed her room. She could see all her books and posters in the periphery. The next moment her consciousness popped deeply into her body, when the strong hands grabbed her wrists and dragged her down the stairs past the family photos of her 13th birthday.
She threw a last look at her parents standing side by side and smiling benevolently at her. They waved her good bye. They were in on this all along, like all the other parents. Her barefoot stepped over the concrete walkway toward the idling van. She had no keys, money, or ID on her -- only her sleepwear. The other two girls waited for her in the van already.
Emily had full length pajama pants and a white t-shirt. Evidently, she had picked the choice that was closest to being dressed in street clothes without giving up on the pretense of being something that she could actually sleep in. Ashley had the sluttiest dress. She wore her underwear: a white thong and a bra. Her body was chubby.
Taylor hit the gas pedal. They went off into the dark, empty night of a residential neighborhood. The guys were wearing board shorts and flip flops. There was definitely swimming going to be involved. Brian was there as well. He was the tall black kid. Even among the black people, he was the blackest black. It was as if his skin trapped all the light photos. He had always been quiet. He had taken the chance to sit next to Ashley and steal glances at her. Electronic music was playing: "They tell me I'm a bad boy. All the ladies look at me and act coy."
DARE AT THE PIER
A short five minute drive, they pulled into the giant empty space of the beach parking lot. The boundary of the parking lot was lined with palm trees. The crashing of the waves was already audible, even though the stretch of sand was a far one.
Dropped popsicles from the afternoon had melted and dried into a black sticky spot on the pavement. A broken boogie board was discarded on the ground. A bikini top had dropped out of a bag and was run over by numerous cars. The pigeons alternatingly pulled a Big Mac around the parking lot. They tried to peck pieces out of it. A squirrel was going bunkers in a trash can buffeting on left behind beach snacks. Or perhaps, it was trying to get drunk from the stale brown paper bag beer.
Stepping on the ground was a little disgusting. However, the adrenaline was pumping, the excitement was raving. The world famous Santa Monica pier was the clear destination. The gaggle of young people swiftly closed in on it. The girls looked around, because they were scantily clad. There was only a homeless person sleeping in the doorway of the electrical power house. A solitary biker sped down the bike path. The cones of light from the giant parking lot flood lights was spaced out quite far. The blue lifeguard houses were boarded up.
"Careful, the old wood boards can have bad nails," warned Mike, when they climbed over the fence to enter the pier. The pier was closed at weekday nights.
They walked among the Merry Go 'Round and the astrology booths. The fresh seafood restaurant still reeked of fish. Lights were on inside. The cleaning crew must have still been working. Mike put his fingers on his lips to hush them. Then, there was the long stretch, where the pier reaches over the ocean. The cold fingers of the sea air grabbed the girls' bare skin.
"The final swim team graduation is to jump down the pier at the end," said Taylor.
"That's 30 feet into churning water! People have died getting battered by waves against the pillars that hold up the pier!" exclaimed Emily.
