One True Loves Read Online Free Page A

pool.
    Eli came in third and Mrs. Berman reflexively pumped her hands into frustrated fists and then shook her head. She turned and looked at Olive and me.
    â€œI’m going to go give Eli a conciliatory hug and then, Olive, we can head home,” she said.
    I wanted to ask if I could join them on their way home. Olive lived only five minutes from me. My house was more or less between theirs and the highway exit. But I had trouble asking things of people. I felt more comfortable skirting around it.
    â€œI should probably find Marie,” I said. “See if we can head out.”
    â€œWe can take you,” Olive said. “Right, Mom?”
    â€œOf course,” Mrs. Berman said as she stood up and squeezed through the crowded bleachers. “Do you want to come say good-bye to Eli? Or should I meet you two at the car?”
    â€œThe car,” Olive said. “Tell Eli I said hi, though.”
    Olive put her hand right into my Doritos bag and helped herself.
    â€œOkay,” she said once her mom was out of earshot. “Did you see the girl on the other side of the pool, talking to that guy in the red Speedo?”
    â€œHuh?”
    â€œThe girl with the ponytail. Talking to somebody on Eli’s team. I honestly think she might be the hottest girl in the world. Like ever. Like, that has ever existed in all of eternity.”
    I looked toward the pool, scanning for a girl with a ponytail. I came up empty. “Where is she?” I said.
    â€œOkay, she’s standing by the diving board now,” Olive said as she pointed. “Right there. Next to Jesse Lerner.”
    â€œWho?” I said as I followed Olive’s finger right to the diving board. And I did, in fact, see a pretty girl with a ponytail. But I did not care.
    Because I also saw the tall, lean, muscular boy next to her.
    His eyes were deep set, his face angular, his lips full. His short, light brown hair, half-matted, half-akimbo, the result of pulling the swimming cap up off his head. I could tell from his swimsuit that he went to our school.
    â€œDo you see her?” Olive said.
    â€œYeah,” I said. “Yeah, she’s pretty. But the guy she’s talking to . . . What did you say his name was?”
    â€œWho?” Olive asked. “Jesse Lerner?”
    â€œYeah. Who is Jesse Lerner?”
    â€œHow do you not know who Jesse Lerner is?”
    I turned and looked at Olive. “I don’t know. I just don’t. Who is he?”
    â€œHe lives down the street from the Hughes.”
    I turned back to Jesse, watching him pick up a pair of goggles off the ground. “Is he in our grade?”
    â€œYeah.”
    Olive kept speaking but I had already started to tune her out. Instead, I was watching Jesse as he headed back to the locker room with the rest of his team. Graham was right next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder for a brief moment before jumping ahead of him in the slow line that had formed. I couldn’t take my eyes off of the way Jesse moved, the confidence with which he put one foot in front of the other. He was younger than any of the other swimmers—a freshman on the varsity team—and yet seemed right at home, standing in front of everyone in a tiny swimsuit.
    â€œEmma,” Olive said. “You’re staring.”
    Just then, Jesse turned his head ever so slightly and his gaze landed squarely on me, for a brief, breathless second. Instinctively, I looked away.
    â€œWhat did you say?” I asked Olive, trying to pretend I was engaged with her side of the conversation.
    â€œI said you were staring at him.”
    â€œNo, I wasn’t,” I said.
    It was then that Mrs. Berman came back around to our side of the bleachers. “I thought you were meeting me at the car,” she said.
    â€œSorry!” Olive said, jumping up onto her feet. “We’re coming now.”
    â€œSorry, Mrs. Berman,” I said, and I followed them both behind