Page 54 of Tell Me I'm Enough

I laugh. “I can bring him back out if you’d like.”

“No, thank you,” she says, grabbing a towel and tossing it onto the table.

She walks around to hang a smaller sign near the front:$5 to Dunk a Sig!

I can’t help noticing how natural she looks out here, smiling, upbeat, pretty, legs for days, sunlight catching her perfect face.

I force my attention back to the line of people starting to gather.

“Alright, folks!” I shout, climbing up onto the platform. “All proceeds go to charity, so don’t feel bad about humiliating me in public. It’ll be for a good cause!”

A few people cheer, and someone yells, “We’ll make it worth it, Sinclair!”

The first few throws miss. They make the tank wobble a little, but it holds solid, making the crowd groan dramatically every time.

Simone’s beside the booth, encouraging the people. “Come on! You can do better than that! Aim for the red button like it’s his head!”

She’s laughing now, really into it, and it looks good on her.

One throw finally hits, and I drop into the cold water with a splash that soaks the people standing close by. I whip my head out of the tank and shake my hair, then I see Simone laugh and jump away to avoid the water being thrown in her direction.

“How’s the water?” she calls out.

“Freezing,” I shout back.

“Good!”

By the second hour, I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been dunked.

The sun’s warm, but the water feels colder every time I climb back up. My shirt clings to me, dripping, so I tug it off, and a couple of the girls standing in line whistle and cheer.

Simone’s still full of energy, handing out balls and collecting money.

“Step right up!” she says. “Every throw helps a cause…and makes his ego smaller!”

I glare at her playfully. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Can’t imagine why,” she says innocently.

“Oh, I can.”

“What can I say?” she admits. “Watching you get dunked is oddly therapeutic.”

We’ve been going back and forth all day with these playful jabs. I’m enjoying the banter, but I really don’t want her thinking I’m the guy she got a first impression of. I want to apologize, but I can’t give it to her that easily.

“Tell you what,” I call over to her, “if you can dunk me yourself, I’ll apologize for being an ass the other night.”

Her eyes light up. “You’d apologize?”

I nod.

“You promise?”

“Scout’s honor.”

“Fine,” she says, stepping up to the line and taking the ball.

She squints at the target, focusing hard, and the first ball she throws hits the button dead center. I barely have time to react before I drop, water crashing around me again.