She had just bought the swimsuit at the mall the day before. We had been there for lunch between exams, and she saw it in the window. It was a nice brown one-piece covered in very short, fine faux fur. When she saw it, she immediately went into the store, dragging me behind. After 10 minutes in the dressing room, with her opening the door at just the right moment several times, we purchased the suit and went to our last class of the semester while making plans to test it out the next day.
I had made a lunch for us to take with, put on my swim trunks for the first time that year and knocked on her dorm room door at nine on that timeless day. She answered the door with a peck on the cheek and bounced into the shower, late as usual. The early May sun shone bright upon us, warming the air and our spirits as we finally made it to the pool at about noon after being distracted. It actually wouldn't quite be hot enough to go swimming for a few more weeks, but the place was starting to get a bit crowded with other like-minded college students freshly released from the burden of exams and responsibility. Laughter, music and splashing filled the air. We found a spot to stow our stuff, then joined our friends and classmates in the pool.
She dove right in with no regard to the temperature while I tested the water. I wasn't moving fast enough for her, so she grabbed my leg and pulled me in. The shock hit me first, but was quickly replaced with awe. She was moving through the water like she was part of it. Grace, beauty, and innocence were alive in her movements and her smile. Her laughter was pure, and so was the moment.
I can still hear her.