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The Lake

Page 9

by Grant, AnnaLisa


  Claire and I make chicken divan and salad. It’s so fattening, but delicious. We decide that the salad balances it all out, though. During dinner I teasingly beg for clues as to what Will and Luke are doing in the basement, but get quickly shut down each time. I’m lowering my guard with Luke and Claire a little bit every day. They make it so easy to feel at home here. We ebb and flow together so well that it’s scary. It’s like we’ve known each other forever, which is a feeling I never expected to have with them. Will fits in perfectly with us, as well. His sense of humor is as twistedly funny as Luke’s and mine. I’ve discovered that is something Luke and my father did have in common. They both could make me laugh to the point of tears.

  After dinner Will helps me with the dishes. Most of it went in the dishwasher, but Claire has a few pieces that need to be washed by hand so I wash and Will dries. The pot we cooked the chicken in is cumbersome and the water sloshes everywhere with each swish of the sponge. By the time we’re done the bottom half of my shirt is soaked. Will follows me upstairs to the loft and waits while I change.

  “This room is amazing,” he says as I re-enter the loft, refreshed and dry with a new shirt. I’m surprised at his comment. I’ve always imagined his house being majestic and more impressive than ours.

  “You haven’t been up here before?” I ask.

  “No. I bet the view from here is almost as good as the one from the dock,” he says.

  “Yeah, you get a better picture of the whole scene from here. This is my favorite spot in the house. It has the best view of the lake,” I say as I sit in my oversized chair.

  “Really? I think I’ll have to judge that for myself.” He smiles and sits in the chair with me, squishing his body next to mine. I feel a rush of nervousness come over me and my body temperature begins to rise. “Hmm, you might have something there.” The moonlight is shining through the trees, which makes the scene very dramatic with the shades of dark blue and gray it casts on everything. “But I still think the view is better from the dock.”

  “Oh, really? Well, I guess we’ll have to do a comparison tonight, then, won’t we?” I realize I’m flirting – something I don’t do well at all – and stop myself immediately. As much as I like him, Will is my friend and I don’t want to do anything to tarnish that. I don’t want to give the impression that I think there’s more going on here than there is. I’m having too much of a good time with him tonight to watch his smile fade again and have him disappear.

  Will stands up and immediately grabs my hand and pulls me out of the chair. I’m thrust into his arms and his eyes lock onto mine as he steadies me. It seems like he’s holding me for an eternity and I can’t breathe. My heart is beating so hard that he’s just got to feel it. I break his gaze and quickly move to the stairs. We pass through the kitchen, each grabbing a bottle of soda before making our way to the dock. We stand there, silent, for a few minutes when I concede.

  “Ok. You win. This view is the better of the two. But you have to admit, it’s a close race,” I say.

  “I don’t know…it might be too close to say. How about we call it a tie?” he says sitting down at the edge of the dock. He’s sitting, which means he’s staying!

  “Agreed,” I reply, following his lead and sitting next to him.

  I don’t understand why Will is here. There have to be at least a dozen girls clamoring for his attention. He has his pick of any girl he wants, yet he’s here…with me. Maybe he feels sorry for me, being new here and not having any friends but his. I certainly haven’t painted a picture of leaving a flock of friends behind in Orlando. Maybe I just bring newness to his life. I may not know why he’s here; I just know I don’t want him to leave.

  “So…how are you feeling about school?” Will asks.

  “Nervous. I’ve got honors trig and chemistry. I stink at both. But, I’m feeling hopeful. I met someone today who offered to tutor me,” I tell him, excited to share the news that the likelihood of me flunking my senior year diminished quite a bit today.

  “Oh…well, you know I’m pretty good at both, so I’d be happy to tutor you,” Will replies.

  “That’s ok. Marcus is a math major at Davidson. He’s on the tutor list at Heyward already, so…” I say.

  “Marcus Reynolds?” Will’s voice is stiff.

  “Yeah, you know him?” I ask.

  “Yes.” Will’s demeanor changes. He’s lost his shine and is distinctly darker. His body seems to slump over slightly, but even this small move changes his god-like body into something sad and defeated.

  “Is there something wrong?” I ask.

  “No. Marcus is a good guy,” he says.

  “How do you know him?” I would have asked anyway, but the change in Will’s demeanor makes me especially curious.

  “His dad worked for mine for a few months, but…it didn’t work out.” He’s hesitant and vague.

  “So you and Marcus were friends?” I ask, hoping to get some insight.

  “I was…friends…with his sister, Holly, but they moved away last year.” Friends? Will straightens himself like he’s realized something. He pushes back from the edge of the dock, puts his shoes on. Here it is again. “I should go,” he says as he stands to leave.

  “I’m sorry. Did I do something? I didn’t mean to upset you.” I can’t let another moment like this go by without confronting him. I put my shoes on quickly and stand to face Will. I wobble a bit in my haste and have a good three seconds where I’m genuinely afraid I’m going to fall in the water.

  “You didn’t do anything. I’m sorry. Like I said, Marcus is a good guy. You two will be great friends.” He turns and starts walking back up the dock to the path back to the house. “It’s getting late. I’ll walk you back up before the lights go out.”

  I follow Will and we walk the flagstone path back to the house. He doesn’t offer his hand of assistance this time and I’m filled with disappointment. With every step I become more and more curious as to why Will’s attitude changed when I mentioned Marcus. I don’t want to press him and make him upset, so I’ll leave the subject alone…for now.

  “Thanks for hanging out with me tonight. If it weren’t for you I’d be a total hermit,” I say awkwardly, searching for something to hopefully break the tension.

  “I like hanging out with you, Layla. I…I can be myself around you. I want you to know how much I appreciate that,” he says.

  “Well…I have a confession to make. You’re not exactly like I thought you were going to be. I thought you were going to be pretentious and stuck-up. But, you’re nothing like that at all. You’re down to earth, funny…charming. You’re easy to be around. So…I like hanging out with you, too,” I tell him in some vain effort to make him stay.

  “That’s good to know. That’s very good to know.” Will smiles softly. Tonight there are no hugs, no intensified looks. Will simply turns and is on his way.

  I go to bed but have a hard time falling asleep. There’s something there – tension – between Will and Marcus. I like Marcus, but I’ll end any friendship with him long before it really begins if my loyalty to Will demands. The more I think about it the more interested I become. After a while of theorizing, I make a final determination. Looks like I’ll be visiting my new favorite bookstore in the morning.

  Chapter 10

  Claire is thrilled when I ask if I can use her car. Since I’ve been here I haven’t driven anywhere. I make my way to town and am proud of myself as I enter and exit the two roundabouts that lead to Main Street, and even more proud that I didn’t get lost. The roads back home are basically in a grid, but here, they’re anything but.

  I find a place to park in the small lot by the library. Parking there means I’ll have to walk across the Village Green and cross Main Street to reach my destination. It also means I’ll have some extra time to sort through my strategy for how to get Marcus to explain why Will was so bothered at the mention of his name. With every step across the Green I do my best to figure out how to smoothly bring Wil
l into the conversation. I’m still not sure what I’ll say or do, and even more sure it will not be done smoothly, but I put my hand on the doorknob and know that I’ve run out of time.

  It’s not until I’m standing at the front door to the bookstore that it occurs to me that Marcus might not even be here. What’s wrong with me? I’m never this impetuous. But I’m here now, so I might as well go in. I don’t see anyone right away, but then he appears.

  “Hey, you’re back!” Marcus greets me.

  “Yeah, I didn’t get to look around the whole store yesterday, so I thought I’d pop in and take a look.” Casual. Be casual, I tell myself.

  “Oh, great! We’ve got a great selection for a small store.” Marcus walks toward me. “I can show you around, if you’d like.”

  “Sure,” I say. It’ll be easier to bring Will up in casual conversation if Marcus is right there with me.

  “Are you looking for anything in particular?” he asks.

  “Nope. I just love a good bookstore. You never know what you’re going to find,” I say.

  “I was thinking…if you want to get a head start on your trig, we don’t have to wait until school starts. I would be happy to start tutoring you now, or whenever you want.” Marcus hesitates and stumbles over his words. He reminds me of myself when I talk to Will sometimes. I remember my thinking that he had been flirting with me during our first meeting, but the thought is fleeting as I focus on my intentions. His raising the tutoring subject is my chance. I take it because I don’t know if a smoother segue will ever be handed to me.

  “Well, it turns out I might not need you after all. I have a friend at school who offered to help. You know him. Will Meyer.” I can feel my heart pounding inside my chest as I say Will’s name, not knowing what kind of a response I’m going to get. The tension could all be on Will’s side, or I could be opening a huge can of worms.

  “Yeah. I know Will.” Marcus gives the same dead-pan look that Will gave last night.

  Can. Open. Worms.

  “Is there something wrong?” I ask trying to sound even more clueless than I am.

  “How good of friends are you with Will?” he asks.

  “Very good friends. Why?” I say.

  Marcus pauses, seeming to choose his words carefully before speaking. “Will is a really nice guy, Layla, but you need to be careful. Just…make sure you stay just friends with him.” Marcus’ cautionary tone is serious and only serves to intensify my need to know what’s going on. What does he mean, stay just friends? I say to myself. Asking him what he means won’t answer my questions about Will’s reaction last night. I need more information.

  “Will told me that he was friends with your sister, but your family moved. Why didn’t you go with them?” I ask.

  Marcus takes a deep breath and lets it out with a heavy sigh. I can’t tell if he’s annoyed at my questioning or upset at the subject matter. “My parents and Holly moved early last summer. I was already registered and set to start at Davidson so I stayed.” His answer is short and curt.

  “Oh, well, that makes sense. Didn’t your dad work at the law firm?” I’m trying so hard to sound like I’m making curious conversation rather than holding an inquisition.

  “Yeah, but…Gregory Meyer is…well, he and my father had differing opinions on some issues,” he says, irritation rising in his voice.

  “What did your fathers disagree on?”

  “They disagreed on whether Will should date my sister or not.”

  I stop in my tracks and turn to face Marcus. “What?”

  “Will and Holly started dating and Will’s dad didn’t think it was a good idea.” Marcus is clearly getting upset. I can see that talking about his sister is difficult.

  “So he fired your dad?” I ask in disbelief. I can’t believe that Mr. Meyer would even be able to do that legally.

  “My dad wasn’t fired,” he answers defensively. “Gregory Meyer made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.”

  “Will’s dad bribed your father to quit and relocate?” I’m sure the tone in my voice speaks to how ludicrous I think that is.

  “Layla, you’ve got to understand something. Around here, Gregory Meyer is like royalty. He’s done a lot for this community, but no one has a clue who he really is. He wants things the way he wants them, and if you get in his way…well…don’t get in his way.” Marcus is stern in his warning.

  “I don’t understand what this has to do with who Will dates?” I can’t wrap my brain around the idea that Will’s father paid Marcus’ father off to leave town just so Will couldn’t date his daughter. “You said Will’s dad didn’t think it was a good idea for Will and Holly to date? Why not?” I ask.

  “I really shouldn’t be telling you any of this. Will is your friend and I don’t want to interfere.” Marcus pauses and makes a hard line with his lips. “I have a lot of respect for Will. He was really upset when Holly left. He hounded me for a long time for her phone number. It was months before he stopped. He works hard to not be like his dad. I can’t imagine it’s very easy, considering how influential Gregory Meyer is. You could do worse as far as friends at Heyward go. All that said, you still need to be really careful, Layla. Listen, I’ve gotta get back to work. I’d still really like to tutor you, if you’d like. If not, I’d still really like to be your friend. Just let me know.”

  I walk back to the car slowly. I’m even more confused by Marcus’ answers than my conversation with Will that sparked this quest. Marcus put a strong emphasis on me staying just friends with Will. Will and I are becoming great friends. In fact, I’d say he’s my best friend. I’ve spent more time with him than anyone, and shared more with him than I have with anyone since my parents. I like hanging out with Will, and he likes hanging out with me. Will and I are friends and that’s never going to change.

  Chapter 11

  The air is filled with the smell of hamburgers and chicken being grilled to perfection for Luke and Claire’s annual end-of-summer bar-b-q. Neighborhood friends and co-workers from their office are slowly trickling in and making themselves comfortable under the shade of the trees in the backyard. They saunter around the yard like they’re on parade. The girls who are soon to be my classmates stand in poses that look every bit uncomfortable as they do ridiculously awkward. It’s like one of those weird America’s Next Top Model photo shoots.

  I can’t smell the deliciousness of summer or get caught in the judgmental eye of the debutants because I am watching from the window in the loft, not sure I’m ready to meet this onslaught of guests. I’ve almost decided what illness I’ll feign when Luke finds me.

  “You can’t hide up here forever,” he says joining me at the window. “Although, this is probably the best seat in the house.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I’m just not the best with big crowds of people. Especially when most of them will be judging every move I make,” I say.

  “Layla,” Luke says, turning me to face him. “I know we didn’t know you very well when you came to live here, but the one thing we have known from the very beginning is that you are a strong young woman. You have persevered and endured more, and faced worse than what waits for you down there. You’re Layla Michelle Weston. You can handle anything.”

  “Thanks, Luke.” His words of encouragement and vote of confidence unearth a well of emotions that I choose not to let escape. I think of my father and know that he would have said the same thing to me, and I find myself realizing that being here with Luke and Claire, among any other options I may have had, is truly the absolute best place for me to be.

  “Don’t worry. If you get cornered, just tell them I said you had to check on something and you’re oh, so sorry that you have to go.” Luke smiles, takes my shoulders and gives them a gentle squeeze. “Oh, Will and his parents just arrived.”

  I’m suddenly nervous and excited at the same time. I want to see Will, but I’m scared to meet his father. I would blame Marcus entirely for my fear if not for the deadly stare Mr. Meyer gave me th
e night I met Will. I just need some time to talk to Will before I face his parents. Maybe if I have a clearer picture of what Marcus meant when he said I should stay just friends with him I’ll know better what to do or say or how to act.

  I step outside into the courtyard and find that it is absolutely too late. Standing there in front of me are Will and his parents, Gregory and Eliana Meyer.

  “Layla, you’re here! Of course you’re here, you live here!” Will stutters. He’s surprised and uncharacteristically nervous. “Um…Layla, these are my parents, Gregory and Eliana Meyer. Dad, Mom, this is…my friend, Layla.”

  “It’s very nice to meet you both,” I reply, shaking both their hands with the best, most confident handshake I can muster.

  “It’s nice to meet you, dear. Will was just telling us about you on the way here. We weren’t aware you two had become such good friends. We’re so glad you’re settling in well, and we’re so sorry about your grandparents.” Will’s mother is the most eloquent speaker I’ve ever heard. She’s almost too well spoken. It seems forced like Audrey Hepburn in My Fair Lady.

 

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