“Yo, guys,” Ty says, peering down into the stroller. “What the hell is that thing? Satan’s spawn?”
“You’d better watch it!” Henry says. He puts on a serious face, throws an arm around my shoulders, and pulls me in close. “That’s our child you’re talking about.”
Ty smiles, then looks at Jerry Rice. “Its eyes are seriously creeping me out. And I knew something was going on between you two.”
“You’re right,” Henry says. “Woods is my husband, and I’m her wife.”
When I’m not in the pool, I’m counting the minutes until I can dive back, so most of the time my bushy, light-brown hair is wet and reeks of chlorine.
This is the story of my life.
But Friday nights are different because my friends and I have a tradition. We always meet for dinner at Jiffy Burger to talk about our lives. (Okay, mostly our love lives.)