“So, do you like swimming?” Crew prodded. “I bet you’d look good in a Brazilian bikini.”
I looked up at Crew.
“I’m not a big swimmer,” I said. That was true. I hadn’t gone swimming since that day. “I hate getting out of the pool and being all cold.”
He smiled. “Even better.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Because then I would get to warm you up,” he said innocently.
“No. I’d do it myself.”
“That’s no fun.”
“For who? Anyone I care about?”
“Touché.”
“Oh. You speak French?”
I asked him something in French, not expecting him to understand, but he responded in French. Good French. Probably, definitely, better than mine. I only got to use it in French class, after all. He had probably lived in a place where they spoke French in one of his father’s military postings. Or maybe he had a private F
