Twenty-three years earlier
 

“This is our bedroom,” Jessica said as she placed her suitcase on the dresser.

Yuri  stood  in  the  doorway,  eyeing  the  one  double  bed  in  the  corner  of  the  room.  Our bedroom. Our bed. It would be a miracle if she survived the week without making a complete fool of herself. The control she had on her raging hormones was tenuous at best.
 

“Come on. Let’s change.”
 

Yuri’s eyes widened as Jessica pulled her shirt off, standing in nothing but her bra and shorts as she ripped open her bag, searching for her swimsuit.  When she found it, her bra joined her shirt on the floor.  Yuri stood rooted to the spot, her greedy eyes roving over Jessica’s half- body.  Being tall and lanky, Yuri had no s to speak of.  In fact, if her mother would allow it, she wouldn’t ever wear a bra.  But Jessica, oh, her s were well-formed, standing firm and taut as she slipped on her bikini top.

Yuri made herself turn away, knowing she would fall into a dead faint if Jessica stripped off her shorts and underwear in the same manner she had her shirt and bra.

 “Are you shy?” Jessica asked quietly.
 

Yuri didn’t turn around as she sorted through her own  clothes, trying to decide between the one-piece suit and the bikini she’d dared to include.

“I’m a little shy, yes,” she said. 

It was, of course, a lie. She was on the basketball team. She was used  to stripping and showering in a group stall with ten other girls at once.
 

 “I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful.”
 

Yuri turned then, finding Jessica standing close, her shorts ed but still on, thankfully.  She swallowed, then shook her head, using all her willpower to keep her eyes from straying to Jessica’s s, now covered in the tiny bikini top.

 “It’s okay. I don’t mind.” She pulled her own T-shirt off, watching Jessica’s face flush, her eyes darken.  She was startled by Jessica’s reaction.  Startled and confused.   Jessica’s mouth opened and closed several times before words came out.

 “I...I should...I mean...I could...if you’re—”

For the first time in her young life, Yuri felt empowered as the truth hit home.  Jessica was having the same reaction to Yuri’s body as Yuri had had to hers.  Without thinking, she pulled her new sports bra off, leaving her as as Jessica had been earlier.  She heard Jessica’s sharp intake of breath as her eyes settled on Yuri’s s.  Yuri turned then, her hands shaking as she chose the bikini over one-piece.

“I’m not that shy,” she said, her back still to Jessica. “I’m  sure by the end of the week, we’ll be used to seeing each other.”
 

“I...I guess so,” Jessica said.
 

Yuri heard the zipper of Jessica’s shorts and she imagined Jessica removing them. She shed her own shorts at the same time, not daring to turn to see if Jessica was watching her or not. She slipped on her bikini bottom, thankful she’d spent the last two weeks sunbathing in it. She’d even worn the bikini while she practiced her basketball moves.  Her skin was tanned a golden brown, matching Jessica’s.  Most likely, Jessica’s tan was the result of time spent in the pool, not sunbathing in a lounge chair in the backyard of her parents’ house.  When she turned, Jessica was watching her, her flip flops held loosely in one hand, a towel in the other.

“You look good,” Jessica said, her face turning red as the words apparently sunk in. “I mean, that swimsuit looks good on you.”
 

Yuri smiled.  “Thanks.  You look...you look great, too,” she said, feeling a blush creep up on her own face.  They stared at each other, smiling, finally laughing.  And finally relaxing.

 “Come on,” Jessica said, linking an arm with Yuri. “Let’s hit the beach.”
 

“What do you want to study in college?”
 

Yuri rolled her head to the side, looking at Jessica. The other girl was on her stomach, her head resting on her hands.  For three days, they’d played in the waves, had participated in a “keep away” game with the four ten-year-olds, had helped them build sandcastles and had played volleyball with a small net Jessica’s parents had erected.  Now, covered in sand and blissfully tired, they lay on beach towels, soaking up the afternoon rays.  Jessica’s mother told them they had two hours until the planned time for grilled burgers, that evening’s meal.

“I can’t decide,” Yuri said. “I like to draw, to sketch, but I don’t know what I could do with that.”
 

“An architect?” Jessica suggested.
 

“Seeing as how I barely passed geometry, I think not.” Yuri  rolled to her side, facing Jessica.
 

“What about you?”
 

“I still don’t have a clue.  Business  of  some  sort,  I  guess.  Accounting,  maybe.”  Her  eyes slipped  closed. “I always imagined  I’d have this huge office in a high-rise somewhere. There’d be windows all around and I could see the city, see downtown.”
 

“Moving out of Calloway, are you?”
 

Jessica laughed. “Yes.” Her eyes fluttered open again.
“I kinda like growing up in a small town, but we’re missing so much. Don’t you think?”
 

“Maybe. I like when I go to San Antonio each year. There’s so much to do. It’s like, no matter what time of day or night, something is always open.”
 

“Yeah. Everything doesn’t shut down at five like in Calloway.”
 

“But I like this, too,” Yuri said. “I’ve never been to the beach before. This is fun.”
 

“We’ve been coming here every year for as long as I can remember.”
 

“You always get to invite someone along?”
 

“Yes.”
 

“Who came last year?”
 

Yuri watched Jessica, seeing the thoughtful expression on her face, the little smile. Yuri raised her eyebrows, waiting.
 

“Hara. She came the last two years.”
 

“And why not again this year?”
 

Jessica sighed. “I thought we already covered this?”
 

Yuri laughed. “Oh, yeah. You want to get to know me.”
 

Jessica flipped onto her side, mimicking Yuri. “Why Catholic school?”
 

“My parents wanted to save me from the corruption of public school,” she said with a grin. “It was really my grandmother’s doing.”
 

“So you’re Catholic then?”
 

“Technically, I guess.”
 

“What does that mean?”
 

“It means we don’t go to church on a regular basis.  Not anymore, anyway.  Not since I’m in public school.  Back then, they kinda frowned on it when their students didn’t show up for Mass on Sundays.”

 “We’re Methodist, technically. Mom and the twins go a lot.  Dad never really goes. I used to, but they let me decide now.”
 

“And you don’t go?”
 

“Not as much. I usually leave there with more questions than answers.”
 

“Yeah. I know what you mean.”
 

“It’s  like,  we  have  a  brain,  yet  we  rely  on  someone  else  to  tell  us  what  to  believe,  what  to think, how to act. I just hate it. Next thing you know, they’ll tell us how to vote.” She rolled onto her back, staring at the sky. “Maybe I’ll be a teacher,” she said after a while.
 

“You’d hate it.”
 

She turned her head to look at Yuri. “You think so?”
 

“No high-rise with a view of downtown.”
 

“Yeah. And I don’t think I could deal with kids all day.”

They were quiet as they watched each other, and Yuri let her eyes roam freely across Jessica’s face, much as Jessica was doing.  She finally asked the one question that had been bugging her since the swim party.
 

“Why don’t you have a boyfriend?”
 

“I don’t want one.”
 

“Why?”
 

“I just...I don’t know. None of the guys at school interest me.  I don’t see the point of having a boyfriend just for the sake of having one.”
 

“But you’re a cheerleader. You’re one of the most popular girls at school. You’re supposed to have a boyfriend.”
 

Jessica rolled her eyes. “I hate cheerleading. My mother made me do it when we were in the seventh grade. I’ve always thought that cheerleaders were nothing but blond, ditzy bimbos,” she said with a laugh. “I don’t want to be stereotyped that way.”
 

“Well, you have to admit, most are.”
 

“You mean Hara?”
 

“She’s a little ditzy, yes. But she’s in the  crowd, just like you.”
 

“I’m only in the in crowd because I’m a cheerleader, I live on the north side of town, and my parents gave me a sports car when I turned sixteen. No other reason.”
 

Yuri nodded. “The politics of high school.”
 

“Yes. It has its advantages, don’t get me wrong,” she said.
 

“You get invited t