The turquoise water feels like a bath, so warm and soothing. Samantha wades out until the water comes up to her breasts. Compared with the breasts of the other girls on the beach hers seem miniscule. Mosquito bites, Hannah called them, flaunting her enormous pair.
She paddles towards the couple frolicking in the water, hunching down so only her head is visible. The boy with the muscles chases the girl in the bikini, finally tackling her. They fall into the wet sand where they kiss while Samantha can only wish someone will kiss her like that someday.
The wave comes up without warning, knocking Samantha from her feet. The current sucks her beneath the surface and then away from the beach. Her lungs burn, demanding air, but no matter how hard she paddles, she can't reach the surface.
A hand grabs her by the back of the bathing suit, hauling her up to the surface. At first she thinks she must be dreaming because she sees herself dragging her back to shore. Then she comes to her senses and realizes it's Mom.
Mom lays Samantha out on the sand, her voice sounding far away as she asks if Samantha is all right. Though Samantha wants to answer, there's too much water in her lungs. She rolls over, spitting what feels like half the ocean onto the beach.
"Feel better?" Mom asks.
Samantha nods. This time she doesn't mind Mom taking her hand to lead her back to the towels. Dad is still asleep, his chest turning lobster red despite the sunscreen.
Even with her eyes closed, Samantha feels people staring at her, laughing at her. "Can we go?" she asks.
"Of course we can, honey. Let me wake your father."
"Why the long face, kiddo?" Dad asks her as they walk back to the car.
Before she can answer, Mom says, "I thought we should get back to pack for tomorrow."
"Good idea. I was going to be broiled in a few more minutes anyway, right?" he says, nudging Samantha in the ribs.
"Right," she says, smiling at Mom.
From a canvas bag in the car, Mom takes out a pair of jeans and T-shirt, hands them to Samantha. She changes in a cinderblock stall with no door while Mom stands guard by the sinks. "Thank you," Samantha says.
"It's all right, honey. All part of the job."
"You do it really well." Samantha emerges from the stall and stands beside Mom at the sinks. In the mirror she looks like a miniature version of her mother. If only she grows up to be half as pretty and smart, she'll be lucky.