*****

“What should we name him," Chris inquired.

“I don't know," I whispered softly, practically drunk with love. He warmly caressed my pregnant belly, his chiseled features melting into a smile when he felt the baby kicking.

I was thrilled when I discovered I was pregnant. Of course, it was awkward when people found at we were a couple, but hiding our relationship had become impossible anyway. And everyone who knew us both said they could see a love building between us for a long time coming. I decided college could wait. I loved Chris, and the only thing sweeter than our love was the moment I learned I was having his baby.

Sins Between Steps

I guess by most people's standards what we were doing was pretty innocent. But I had never skipped school before, not once.  Until today.  A hot, cloudless morning in late April, a few weeks before the end of my senior year of high school.

The scorching Arizona sun beat down on the pavement as my friend, Marnie, pulled her ancient 4Runner into the parking lot of the pool. We had both been accepted to the University of Arizona for the upcoming fall semester, so we were somehow able to rationalize our skipping out of class.  Nevertheless, I had butterflies in my stomach. After all, I had always been such a good girl.

“Oh come on, Missy,” Marnie cajoled, rolling her eyes, “this isn’t bad in the least. Quit being so uptight.”

“Are you sure we can just randomly swim in someone’s pool?” I asked as I watched Marnie wiggle out of her jean shorts and into a bikini, right there in the parking lot. It was the community pool of a quiet, upscale neighborhood, the kind of cookie-cutter subdivision where snowbirds came to die.

It was deserted, totally quiet in the midday heat.

“You’re ridiculous,” Marnie said. “Besides, it’s not like we’re trespassing. My aunt lives here.”

“If you say so.” I stepped barefoot onto the hot pavement and pulled off my clothes, my bikini already on underneath. We both jumped the fence and cannonballed into the water, shrieking. Marnie started to swim across, her body moving with the fluid rhythm of someone who had been swimming competitively since she was 8. I tried to follow her, without much success.

Marnie had been the star of the varsity swim team until last year, when she was kicked off after a picture of her sucking on a bong started to circulate via text, eventually surfacing on Facebook. She lost her spot on the swim team and a scholarship to UC Santa Cruz; the whole thing had been a big deal at our school.

In the end, though, she had received an academic scholarship to the U of A, and I was thrilled to be attending the same college as her.

I was out of breath before I made it halfway across. I gasped and treaded water as Marnie executed a perfect flip at the other end of the pool and started her return. I watched her for a minute before raising myself out of the water. I then put on my sunglasses and settled into one of the deck chairs.

A few minutes later a big, silver Buick pulled into the parking lot next to the pool. A very old man in carefully pressed jeans, western shirt and bolo tie got out and hobbled over to the apartment-style mailbox to retrieve his mail.  As he returned to his vehicle he glared at me balefully, a pile of junk mail in his hands. I gave him a smile and an enthusiastic wave, doing my best to appear friendly. He continued staring at me for another moment before closing his car door.

Enjoy your remaining years, I thought irritably.

Marnie pulled herself out of the water with a joyful whoop. I glanced at her toned body as she walked towards me, toweling her hair off.

God, I thought, if only I looked likethat. Ever since she had stopped swimming competitively Marnie’s body had filled out.  She had breasts now, and curves that looked seductive even when she was simply walking down a hallway in jeans and a sweatshirt. My body was still as skinny and girly as it had been freshman year. I wondered if I would ever look sexy and womanly like her.

“Hey, lover,” she said, kissing me on the lips before she sank into the chair next to mine.

“Hey,” I said, kissing her back. Kissing her always felt a little naughty, even if it was just an innocent little peck.

“When do you leave for Hawaii?” she asked, adjusting her top.

“Right after school lets out,” I replied. My stepfather was Peter Oak, president of Oakwood Builders, one of the largest land developers in Arizona. My life had become much more comfortable ever since he married my mother, when I was fourteen. This summer he was taking us all to Oahu for a few weeks.

“Is Nate going, too?” Marnie asked. Nate was my stepbrother. Marnie had never hidden the fact that she thought he was hot. Hearing her lust after him always made me squirm because, secretly, I lusted after him, too.

Nate Oak’s presence in my life was something I tried hard not to think about, mainly because from the moment I met him at fourteen I had a terrible, overwhelming crush on him.  Last year, after he left home to attend college on the East Coast, I had for the first time been able to more-or-less shut him out of my mind. Of course, he had no idea how I felt about him. He was a year older, after all, and because we were in different social circles we hardly ever saw each other except around the house.  He was like a hot stranger, but one I shared a shower with, and who, every so often, teased me in inappropriate ways I could hardly believe.

“Nate’s not coming,” I said sourly. “He’s going on a road trip with some friends of his.”

“Oh, bummer,” Marnie said. “Are you going to miss him?” she teased.

“Shut up,” I snapped, my face suddenly feeling even hotter than the bright sunshine beating down on it. “Yeah,” I admitted, “a little.”

“I would let your brother do nasty things to me,” Marnie dreamily said, tilting her face towards the sun and settling deeper into her chair. “Unforgivable things.”

“I know that,” I said, rolling my eyes. The tone of my voice couldn’t have said slut more clearly. I waited until the usual spasm of jealousy passed through me. I hated it when Marnie talked about my stepbrother this way, and she always did, every time his name came up.

“I don’t want to go to class,” I said, changing the subject.

“Me neither,” Marnie groaned, rolling over so she could feel the sun on her back. “Shit, don’t we have that test in econ?”

“Ugh,” I muttered, recalling the economics exam this afternoon.

We gathered our things and walked back to her truck.

“Hey, let’s get high before we head back. Just a little,” Marnie said as I pulled the seatbelt over my torso.

“Marnie,” I reproached her as she pushed the pipe, brimming with sticky green herb, into my hands. I glowered at her for a second before reluctantly flicking the lighter over the bowl, then inhaling the sweetness before passing it back. I rolled down the window to blow out a thick stream of smoke. We swapped the pipe back-and-forth like this for several minutes, eventually sinking cozily into our seats.

It wasn't long, however, before a police cruiser slowly turned around the corner and pulled up alongside us. Marnie squeaked and threw the pipe under the seat while I furiously swept the smoke out of the cab with my hands, trying to be as stealthy as possible with my actions. My heart practically thumped out of my chest--oh god please don't let him smell it!

The officer got out of his car and lazily sauntered over to us, looking at us through big, mirrored shades.

“How are you ladies doing today?” he asked.

“Just fine, officer,” I said, as evenly as possible. "How are you?”

He cleared his throat. “I got a report about two non-residents swimming in the pool. You wouldn't happen to be them, would you?”