All of Me

one • little sister

• • •

Five Oaks is only a mile from the sandy shore of Lake Erie. On a clear day, I can see Canada from the secret beach Graham showed me, land visible across the water even without his binoculars, so I wasn't expecting the crazy heat we've had for two full weeks now. It's been ninety every day, hardly ever dropping below seventy even in the middle of the night, and I think I've sweated more in the past few days than the rest of the year combined.

I wasn't prepared for this. It's a different kind of heat to the scorching city summers I'm used to and my body can't handle it. I don't know if it's the proximity of the water but even when it's tipping ninety, the air feels thick and stifling.

My thighs are rubbed raw – it's been too hot even for shorts recently, so now my skin is red and sore – and the lake is the only respite from the constant chafing, but it's busy on a day like this. A Sunday at the end of August, almost three months after Mom and I moved in.

I wanted to relax today before class starts up again tomorrow but the sand is scalding even with a towel between the beach and my body so instead I'm lying in the shade of the back garden with my feet in a kiddie pool that Graham dug out of his garage. Tad's in Columbus for the weekend so Gray's been hanging out with Mom and me, slotting into our life like he belongs there.

He didn't waste much time doing that. Somehow persistent without getting on my nerves, I don't even mind carpooling with him to college each day. Granted we've only had two weeks of class so far, but he doesn't mind slipping into silence on the long drive, more than an hour each way, and there's something comforting about his consistency.

When I hear the newly familiar sound of bare feet on grass, one of a million noises of my new life, I shade my eyes with my book to see him coming out of my house with two glasses of sweet iced tea, Mom's new specialty. She always used to experiment in the kitchen, but not so much the past couple of years.

Gray passes me a glass and tightens the drawstring of his trunks before he drops into the shallow pool and lets out a happy sigh. Ice clinks in the glass and above us, a couple of birds are singing to each other. Somewhere further away, a seagull caws. I'm still getting used to the stillness of the air, which is almost too quiet at night: I got too used to drifting off to the sound of jet engines.

Gray smacks his lips when he takes a sip of the tea and grins at me. "Your mom told me to tell you someone's coming over," he says, tipping his head back to sun his freckled cheeks. I'd kill for his complexion. My skin's been breaking out since we got there, as though my body's trying to rid itself of New York.

"Someone?" I ask, shifting to make sure my coverup hasn't ridden up my thighs. The thin material has a mind of its own and although I'm wearing a swimsuit underneath, I feel too exposed.

"I didn't understand what she said and I didn't want to ask her to repeat herself again." His cheeks are slightly pink. "Noy something?"

I sit up to talk to him to save myself from the unsightly double chin if I lift up my head when I'm lying down. I know Gray doesn't care – he's seen me looking far worse, as much as I try to avoid it – but it's hard to shake the mindset that I've lived my whole life with.

"Nagybácsi," I say when I realize what he means. "My uncle."

"Ah." He taps his forehead. "I'll remember that one. I don't have any uncles but I do have three obas."

"Aunts?"

He gives me a thumbs up. "I've got a haha somewhere too," he says with a laugh, "but she used to get so mad when I called her that."