Today, our mother promised us we would be allowed to swim in the new pool. We spent three hours shopping for new bathing suits at the mall.
When we looked out back to the pool, the sky was beginning to turn a greyish-purple. My eldest sister warned us that the weather would be poor for swimming, but Juana and I didn’t care.
As the first icy drops began to fall, Juana ran for the diving board to show me what she’d learned in her swimming lessons – she jumped off backwards, and barely caused a ripple through the pool’s glassy surface; she swam as if made of water herself, her swimsuit glittered like a mermaid’s tail. I ran to join her, but slipped on the deck – sleek from the pelting of rain. I fell into the pool in an ungraceful display, waves rushing over the side; if I were a fish, I’d be a whale.