Free Rhymes With Witches by Lauren Myracle Page B

floating along behind it, tied to the raft so it would stay cool in the river.
    Bitsy was wearing a turquoise bikini, and she looked fantastic. Keisha was wearing a black one-piece, and
she
looked fantastic. They both laughed and sipped their drinks while the other kids drooled all over them. Just like at Kyle’s party. A third fantastic-looking girl was there, too, and after a moment of confusion I deduced that she was last year’s senior Bitch, now graduated and out in the real world. She was stretched out on the rim of the main raft, wearing cut-offs and a red halter. While I watched, a guy dipped his fingers into his cup and sprinkled beer on her tummy. She shrieked and swatted him, and the guy turned about a hundred shades of happy.
    The camera jerked around a lot, so it was hard to see everything. Mainly Stuart stayed focused on Keisha, Bitsy, and the red halter girl, but occasionally he’d pan in on a guy belting out a burp or drumming his chest like Tarzan.
    And every so often there’d be a glimpse of Mary Bryan.
    It made my heart hurt to see her. She had on a hot pink one-piece made to look like leather, and it was cut too high on the legs and too low in front. Physically I guess she looked pretty much the same as she does now, only it didn’t seem that way at all. Part of it was how she held herself, with her stomach held in super tight and her chest sticking out. And part of it was the way she clutched her Styrofoam cup and ripped off the top in little bits. But mostly it was her expression: bright, bright smile even though no one was talking to her. Desperate, shiny eyes.
    My thighs felt heavy. Was that how I came across at Kyle’s party?
    On the tape, Mary Bryan adjusted her bathing suit. She stood in the raft and wobbled toward a junior named Chase Mattingly, then dropped down beside him. Her drink sloshed onto his leg. He glanced at her, annoyed, but kept talking to his buddy Steve. Several times Mary Bryan opened her mouth to speak, but each time she chickened out. Finally she leaned forward so that her breasts practically fell out of her suit.
    â€œUm, you’re on the soccer team, right?” she asked.
    Chase broke off in the middle of his sentence. “Yeah. Why?”
    â€œJust … you’re really good,” Mary Bryan said. “That was terrific how you scored all those goals last weekend.”
    â€œThanks,” he said. He noticed her cleavage—it was pretty impossible not to—and with some sort of guy code, he got Steve to notice, too. “What’s your name again?”
    â€œMary Bryan,” she said.
    Chase draped his arm around her shoulders. Stuart, who was getting it on film, zoomed in close. To someone else he said, “Hey, bro, check out the titties!” The Mary Bryan on the raft couldn’t hear, but the four of us at Bitsy’s could.
    â€œTell you what,” Chase said, all pals-y and smooth. “Find me at the picnic area, after we get off the river, and I’ll go over the highlights with you. Sound good?”
    Mary Bryan’s face lit up, and for a second, she looked like the Mary Bryan I knew now. “Okay. Sure!”
    The camera jiggled and panned back to the other raft. Keisha and Bitsy were squealing and drawing up their legs while twoguys wrestled each other for the tap of the keg. Drops of beer landed on the camera lens.
    â€œGeronimo!” one of the two yelled as he pushed the other overboard.
    â€œHold on, Mike,” Stuart called. “The Stu-Man is on the way!”
    The image shook, followed by a blip of static. The screen went blank.

    â€œThat was my tryout,” Mary Bryan said after what seemed like hours. She didn’t meet anyone’s eyes. “I didn’t … I had no idea …”
    Keisha studied the sofa cushion. Bitsy gazed at Mary Bryan. Her expression was unreadable.
    Mary Bryan laughed shakily. “Can we burn it, please?”
    Bitsy strolled behind her