The Pit Summers Interracial Pool Party Oil It Up -

“They’ll talk,” she said one night, dangling her feet over the quarry’s edge. The water below was black as coffee, deep and cold.

The “oil it up” part came from Marcus. “You can’t have a pool party without the grease,” he said, pulling out ten bottles of baby oil. “Old-school. Like the mixtape covers.” the pit summers interracial pool party oil it up

The invitation said nothing more than “The Pit. Summers. Oil it up.” “They’ll talk,” she said one night, dangling her

So they planned it for the solstice. The hottest day of the year. Lee brought her cousins from Detroit—Darnell and his wife Tisha, plus their cousin Marcus, who DJ’d on the side. Benny brought his sister Gina and her husband Paulie, plus a dozen guys from the shop: Vietnamese, Mexican, Irish, all grease-stained and grinning. Someone hauled a grill. Someone else brought a cooler full of Negro Modelo and cheap rosé. “You can’t have a pool party without the

“Let ’em,” Benny said. “My old man’s been dead ten years. I’m tired of being a ghost in my own town.”