“What—how—” Caleb glances between the green-helmeted bird and the wooden paddle slowly drifting away.
“We were about to hit a duck,” I inform him.
“You said ‘Duck!’” Caleb replies, not looking very amused.
“Because there was a duck.”
“Seriously?” Caleb responds.
“You can see it,” I fling out an arm towards the duck, who’s rapidly paddling away. Probably sensing Caleb’s annoyance. I kind of wish I could do the same.
“All I see is our means of getting back to shore disappearing.” Caleb points in the opposite direction, towards the disappearing oar.
“Can’t we just like, I don’t know, drift towards it? Or paddle with our hands?” I lean down to demonstrate, attempting to drive the currents with the sheer force of my palms. We angle slightly to the right, and then move back to the left. Caleb bursts out laughing.
“Please tell me you didn’t think that would work.”
“Not now, I don’t,” I reply.
Caleb pulls off his Landry Baseball sweatshirt and undershirt in one smooth motion.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting us back to shore. I thought that’s what your hand paddling was trying to accomplish.”
His sweatpants disappear next. I swallow and look out at the lake. All three feet of it I can see in front of me. We’ve had some pretty heated moments, but this is the most I’ve seen of Caleb. Ever. Adrift on a lake is not exactly how I envisioned it happening, but my body doesn’t seem to care. I doubt it’s more than fifty degrees out right now, but it feels tropical all of a sudden.
There’s a quiet splash, and then Caleb rises to the surface of the lake.
“Fuck, it’s cold,” he informs me.
“Never would have guessed,” I reply.
“Didn’t see you offering to jump in,” he responds as he starts swimming towards the wayward oar, and I shut up, since he’s right. Innocent mistake or not, it’s my fault he’s in the cold water. Caleb grabs the oar and turns to swim back to the canoe.
“Here,” he holds it out to me. “Just grab—” I reach out to grasp the wooden handle, and I don’t realize that was a mistake until I feel the canoe follow my movements. It tilts to the left, and all of a sudden lake water starts to pour inside. Caleb was right. It’s cold. No, freezing. I yelp, and then jump ship. Literally.
When my head emerges from the lake, Caleb is treading water beside me. “Jesus Christ,” he comments. “I should have taken you to a water safety course before this. Didn’t you get an A in Physics?”
“Of course I did,” I respond through chattering teeth. “But we didn’t cover duck sightings. And I was trying to help you by grabbing the paddle.”
“Yeah, I know,” Caleb replies. Then he smiles, which takes me off guard. We’re both treading water in what feels like a frozen puddle. Why does he look so amused? Happy, even.
“What?” I ask.
“I kind of want to kiss you right now, but I’m worried you’ll set off some sort of other catastrophe.”
The warm feeling his words elicits chases away a bit of the water’s chill. “So do it,” I challenge. “I mean, I already capsized the canoe.”
“Yeah, you did,” Caleb agrees. Then he kisses me, and familiar warmth spreads through my body. I know I should be cold still, but I’m not. I’m like a flame encapsulated in a bubble. Wafting along the surface of the lake, unbothered by the cold or the wet.
Despite the fact my teeth are no longer chattering, it turns out kissing in the water is not at all like those scenes in the movies you see. It’s a juggling act, staying afloat and remaining close enough to Caleb to kiss him. We manage to do it, though, until my arms start to feel tired.
“Um, we should probably deal with the canoe,” I tell him.
“Yeah, probably,” Caleb replies. He gives me one more quick kiss, and then he flips the canoe over in one smooth motion. He tosses the paddle and his clothes inside and then nods to me. “Climb in.”
Easier said than done. Caleb literally has to haul me up and over the side of the canoe. Somehow, I adjusted to the temperature of the water, and the air is a new, and unwelcome change. Especially now that I’m wearing sopping wet clothing.
Caleb climbs in the canoe, gets dressed, and then we start moving again. The mist has started to clear a bit. I can see a dozen feet ahead now, and can tell we’re actually moving pretty quickly through the water.
“So your grandfather is managing everything himself this weekend?” Caleb asks.
“Yeah,” I reply. “He has some of his old track buddies coming over to help, but I’m still worried about him.” I look around at the scenery starting to emerge through the vaporous water still lingering mystically in the air. “I should come up here with him sometime. He’d probably appreciate it more than me.”
“The lake?”
“Nature. Gramps has always been the outdoorsy type. Guess it skipped a couple of generations. You couldn’t have paid my mother to spend any time in the wilderness.”
“You don’t talk about her much. Your mother,” Caleb observes.
“I know. It’s not that she was a bad mom, exactly. She was just absent a lot. Selfish. I try to remember the times she wasn’t, but . . . it’s just easier not to mention her at all.”
Caleb doesn’t say anything at first, and when he does speak it’s to change the subject. “You should bring your grandfather here this summer. When it’s warmer out.” His voice is a bit lighter. “Before you leave for school.”
I’ve been dreading this moment for a while, but now that it’s arrived I don’t ease into it. Somehow, I just know I have to tell him. “I’m not leaving for school in the fall, Caleb.” I drop the words like an anvil. “I’m staying in Landry.”
His face is completely blank. Nothing. No indication I’ve even spoken. Finally, his brow wrinkles. “You’re not leaving.”
“No.”
“Did you apply anywhere?”
“No,” I admit.
“Why not?” Caleb questions. There’s a harsher edge leaking into his voice. Disappointment. Confusion. Maybe a little anger.
“College is crazy expensive. That’s money we don’t have. And even if I got a scholarship someplace, I can’t leave the farm. Leave Gramps.”
“Sell the farm, then. That land alone has got to be worth millions.” He says it like it’s easy. Like it’s nothing. It’s a harsh reminder of just how different our lives really are.
“I can’t do that. Not until I don’t have any other choice. Matthews Farm has been in my family for generations. Gramps has lived there his whole life. So have I.”
“You’re not even racing horses anymore! It’s barely a working farm. That’s all you want for your future? Mucking out stalls and shuffling around broodmares?”
“Of course not,” I snap. “Unlike you, I don’t have any other options, Caleb. Okay? I’ve known this is what would happen ever since—ever since my dad died. Gramps can’t manage things by himself. I’m all he has left. He’s all I have left.” Caleb looks unconvinced, and I’m surprised. I get why he might not like it, but is it really that difficult to understand why I’m doing it?
“You’re wasting your potential.” Guess so. He delivers the words in a familiar, haughty tone I thought I’d heard for the last time.
“What are you, a freaking motivational speaker?” Caleb scoffs. “Besides, it’s my potential to waste. We’re talking about my life. You don’t have any say in what I do.”
“Yeah, you’ve made that crystal fucking clear, Lennon,” Caleb bites.
We’re whizzing along the lake now, in what I hope is the direction of the shore. It’s still too foggy to tell exactly where we’re headed, but I’m guessing that’s Caleb’s destination. The speed of his paddling suggests he’s pretty eager to get away from me, and the feeling is mutual. Plus, we’re both still soaking wet.
Since it doesn’t seem like we’ll be disembarking in the immedia
te future, I take a stab at a peace offering. “I didn’t mean it like that, okay? Just that it’s my problem, not yours.”
Caleb’s not very amenable towards it. “Yeah. Message received. Lennon Matthews doesn’t need help from anyone.”
I stare defiantly into icy blue eyes. “And Caleb Winters just coasts by on money and privilege. I don’t even know why you care that I’m staying.” It’s a lie. Sort of.
“Me neither,” Caleb retorts angrily.
“I think we should end this. This thing between us. Boredom. Lust. Whatever.”
“Fine. You were the one who kissed me first.” The words themselves aren’t that accusatory, but the nasty tone he delivers them in definitely is.
“You didn’t seem to mind all that much,” I shoot back. Jerk.
I spin around so I’m no longer facing Caleb and his inscrutable expression, and am thrilled to see the shoreline we departed from is visible now, the looming figures of the cabins just past it. The drip drip drip of the water leaving our wet clothes and the splash of Caleb’s oar displacing the lake’s surface serves as the soundtrack for the last few hundred feet of our disastrous trip.
The front tip of the canoe embeds in the sandy shore, and I leap out like someone just set the yellow boat on fire. Lake water floods my sneakers, but my saturated shoes lost their ability to sop up water a while ago. I slog my way to shore, and then turn back, feeling some sort of obligation to help Caleb pull the boat back on dry land. But it’s an unnecessary gesture. Like me, Caleb appears unfazed by having to re-enter the water. He’s already climbed out of the rear of the canoe and is spinning it around to pull the end up on the sand. His movements are quick and efficient. He’s obviously eager to get back to the cabins. Change into dry clothes. Get away from me.
I hover awkwardly while he hauls the canoe back to its spot behind the ferns. But he doesn’t so much as glance at me before striding towards the cabins, across the campground I’m relieved to see is still empty. I trail after him, sending droplets of water flying with each step.
Caleb rapidly puts some distance between us, and then disappears inside one of the cabins closer to the lake. I continue further down the half-moon stretch to my own cabin. Wondering when things between me and Caleb Winters managed to get so complicated.
And what I’m going to do about it.
When I push through the slatted wooden door to enter my own cabin, I’m met by Shannon’s startled expression. She blinks sleepily, obviously just waking up.
“Morning,” I greet.
“Hey . . . ” Shannon replies slowly. Her gaze slides downward to scrutinize my bedraggled appearance. “Uh, why are you all wet?”
I’m tempted to say there was a passing downpour, but I’m pretty sure she’d know I was lying. All she’d have to do is glance outside to see the mist has fully dissipated, burned off by the bright sunlight starting to appear. “I fell in the lake,” I admit.
“You fell in the lake?” she echoes.
“Uh-huh.”
Shannon doesn’t say anything else. I’m guessing she’s just not certain how to respond.
After showering and changing into dry clothes, I head to the main lodge where we ate dinner last night. The broad spread of breakfast food is impressive. I normally wolf down a banana, and sometimes a granola bar before heading out to the barn for chores. The bacon, eggs, waffles, pancakes, quiche, omelets, and fruit parfait spread out in a colorful array is overwhelming. I grab a random assortment, and head towards my assigned table. Seconds after I’ve sat down, Mr. Tanner climbs onto the temporary stage to announce the day’s itinerary to us all. In essence, the two options are canoeing and hiking. With this morning’s misadventure fresh in my mind, the choice is a pretty easy one for me.
By the time I set off with the hiking contingent, I’m painfully aware of the fact I’m attracting some stares. I’m guessing it means there’s some gossip spreading about this morning. Someone must have spotted us outside their window. At least, I assume that’s why they’re staring. Thanks to Cassie’s absence, I don’t have the slightest bit of insight into what exactly is being muttered under my fellow seniors’ breaths.
But I have a pretty good idea.
Thankfully, none of them are Caleb’s. Or his friends’. I waited until he committed to canoeing, even though I was fairly certain that’s what he would choose already, before I headed over to the hiking group. It’s harder to gossip when you’re short of breath, but my peers seem to manage just fine.
By the time we return to the campground it’s dinnertime. In what’s rapidly become a familiar ritual, I eat with my cabin mates. Following dinner, there’s a mandatory movie screening. It turns out to be the same spy thriller I saw in the theater with Caleb and his friends. I wonder if the memory is as painful for him as it is for me.
As soon as we return to the cabin from the approved evening activities, things switch to the unapproved. Shirts are tossed, make-up applied, perfume sprayed. I feel like I’ve been dropped in the midst of an instant make-over television show.
“Aren’t you coming tonight, Lennon?” Shannon asks.
“Yeah, sure,” I respond, trying to camouflage my surprise. I read last night’s offer as more of an obligation than a serious invitation and wasn’t really expecting another. I trail after the rest of the girls, then glance to the right when we make it off the porch onto the grass. Half our group splits off to the left, darting towards the woods.
“Where are we going?” I ask Shannon.
“Lee said he found a clearing in the woods. We’re supposed to meet everyone there.” I relax a little upon hearing this. Lee Joseph is friends with Will, along with a handful of other people I don’t mind. As far as cliques go, it’s one I can handle socializing with.
There’s not a single chaperone in sight, but we still stick to the periphery of the campground as we head towards the woods. But eventually we reach a point where we’ll have to dart across the middle of the campground to reach the direction in which we apparently need to head.
We’re halfway across when I make the mistake of looking to my right. There are about a dozen figures huddled around the campfire, silhouetted by the dancing flames and starry sky. I make direct eye contact with Madison, and she smiles wickedly. I look away.
“Lennon! Don’t you want to play?” My companions all stop, so I have no choice but to do so too. I glance back over at the campfire. If Madison is inviting me to participate in something, I have no doubt there’s a hidden agenda. But Shannon and the rest of the girls are behaving like moths, inching closer and closer to the campfire.
“Play what?” I ask as I follow them, walking over to the group gathered around the flickering flames. The group, that I realize with a start, includes Caleb.
“Truth or Dare,” Madison responds, with a devilish smirk.
“We can stay for a bit.” Shannon answers before I have a chance to, plopping down in an open spot. I’m very tempted to groan aloud, but I manage to tamp it down.
It turns out the lull in the game is due to Jake’s current dare. He returns to the fire less a minute after we’ve sat down, a jar of pickles in hand.
“Try to actually challenge me next time, Adams.” He tosses the glass container to Colt. Jake challenges Poppy Tisdale to dance for a minute without music next, which she seems happy to do. I cringe as she performs some moves that are a bit salacious for a soundtrack of owls and crackling wood.
Maybe the judgement is evident on my face. But I’m pretty sure Poppy singling me out is more a direct order from my former friend. “Truth or dare, Lennon?” Poppy asks with a snide smirk, giving Madison a quick glance for approval and confirming my suspicions.
I know from experience mean girls are experts at sensing weakness. So, I refuse to show any. “Dare.” This is one instance in which I’m certain actions will not speak louder than words.
“I dare you to kiss Jake.”
Not a challenge I saw coming. There’s a small gasp next to me from Shannon,
but I’m guessing she’s reacting to the fact I was just dared to kiss one of the most popular guys in school. The least of my considerations.
I stand, and take my time walking around the campfire to where Jake is sitting. Right next to Caleb.
As I walk, I weigh my options. There’s only two, really. One that will cause harm—what I’m pretty certain would be irreparable harm—to my ambiguous, strained relationship with Caleb. That should make my choice easy, but I waver. Wouldn’t it be easier—better—to take the option away? To just blow things up?
I reach the opposite side of the campfire. Caleb is stony-faced. Impassive. But as I near the spot where he’s sitting, I watch a muscle jump in his jaw. It’s a tiny, barely discernible, involuntary motion. And it makes the decision for me.
I stop in front of Jake and lean forward. He’s wide-eyed, and I can tell he’s resisting the urge to look over at Caleb.
“Don’t move,” I whisper to him.
His Adam’s apple bobs as he hastily swallows. Then I lean forward.
And kiss him on the cheek.
Before I stand back up, I hear a quick exhale to my left, and that’s how I know I made the right decision. That Caleb wasn’t as indifferent as he seemed.
“You call that a kiss?” Poppy laughs, but I hear the edge of nervousness in her tone as she glances over at Madison.
“Next time you should specify where.” I smile at her sweetly. “I’m going to find Lee,” I tell my four wide-eyed cabin mates. They scramble after me, and it feels like a show of support I haven’t experienced in a long time. Maybe ever.
“Whoa, that was crazy!” Shannon whispers to me as we walk away. “I can’t believe you did that.” Awe saturates her voice.
I can’t respond quite yet. I’m too distracted by the eyes I can feel searing my back. If I turned back around, I know they’d be blue ones.
The “clearing” Lee discovered appears a lot more like a stretch of forest that has slightly fewer trees than an actual glade, but it has the added bonus of being filled with much friendlier faces than the campfire was surrounded with. There’s no organized game being played here, just groups gathered in small clumps resting on boulders and fallen trees. I spot Will sitting with Marcus and some of the other senior players on the basketball team. He gives me a small wave, and I smile back before following Shannon towards a huddle I recognize as containing most of our usual lunch table, Julie, and . . . Andrew. He looks even more uncomfortable than I feel.
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