“There’s Carter.” I sighed. “And me dripping wet and Gertie still damp.” “Wet T-shirt contest, remember?” Gertie said. “You’re not even wearing a shirt,” I said. “I’m never going to hear the end of this.” “Sure you will,” Ida Belle said. “You’ll do something worse and this will all be forgotten.” “Always the optimist,” I grumbled. “More of a realist,” she said.
