Here the Whole Time

by Vitor Martins

“Hello, deary,” she says, and I crack a smile because I’ve never heard anyone call someone deary before. The two of them start talking and I can’t hear all of it because Melissa’s voice is really soft. I can only gather what Becky is saying because apparently she wasn’t born with the ability to whisper. The conversation goes more or less like this: Becky: “It’s just us here; there’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Melissa: “Ssshh shhs shhsshh shhs sh.” Becky: “I just want to enjoy the day with you.” Melissa: “Shh shsh shhhhs sh.” Becky: “You are the most beautiful girl in the world!” Melissa: “Shhhhhh.” Becky: “I mean it, woman.” Melissa: “Fine.” And then Melissa gets up, having been convinced to go into the water. She takes off her flip-flops but then hesitates before taking off her little beach dress. (What are those things called, anyway?) All of a sudden, she takes it off in one sweeping motion and starts walking toward the pool. And then I see why she didn’t want to take off her clothes. Melissa is wearing a one-piece, but it can’t cover her entire body. Her shoulders are covered in acne and scars from acne that was once there. Her ribs stick out against her swimsuit, as if the suit were covering a birdcage. And in the middle of her breasts I can see a long vertical scar. Melissa doesn’t dive into the pool like Becky and Caio did. She enters the pool slowly, using the little stairs that almost nobody ever uses, and grimaces when her body comes in contact with the cold wate...