He hopped onto the boat and held out his hand once more. I reluctantly climbed on, and he unhooked it from the dock.
I didn’t say anything as he pushed it off and navigated to the middle of the lake. This was the weirdest thing anyone had ever tried to show me by far.
It got even stranger when he started stripping.
He draped his jacket over my shoulders and pulled his shirt off.
“Seriously Dean, what are you doing?” I cut in when he took off his belt.
“You’ll see,” he said, winking as he ducked below deck.
Not that I was complaining about the show, but I wished he would be a little more transparent.
He climbed back up the stairway minutes later in a wetsuit.
“You’re going in?” I exclaimed. “You’re going to die! It’s freezing down there!”
“Not freezing,” he said. “There’s no ice. Yet.”
“Still!” I said incredulously. “What could possibly be down there?”
“You’ll see.”
I really wished he would stop saying that. He was fitting a mask over his face and flipped a switch to a machine to my right. I could barely hear anything over the humming, but I didn’t have a chance to protest when he abruptly flipped backward off the side of the boat.
I immediately jumped up to look over the side, but I couldn’t see anything except the tube where his airline was connected. There were other tubes too, but I wasn’t sure what they were for.
My heart was pounding. He was calm about it, but I wished he wouldn’t dive off of boats without telling me what was going on. Especially in the middle of Palmer Lake. The fog made it harder to see the shore, and I felt like I was in a horror movie. All I needed next was for Dean to pop up out of the lake as a zombie.
Several minutes or an eternity later, he surfaced.
“Oh my god,” I exclaimed. “Finally!”
He climbed onto the boat and shoved his mask off. Then he held his hand out to me, and dropped something into my hand. It was heavy.
I looked at it closer and gasped. “Is this what I think it is?”
I turned it over in my hand.
“Gold,” he said, panting.
“This is amazing.”
“No one knows about this,” he said seriously.
“Not even Jenny?”
“Not even Jenny. Just you.”
“Why?” I asked, trying to drop it back into his hand.
He pulled his hand away, forcing me to keep it.
“Because, friends tell each other things.”
He grinned at me, and couldn’t help but return it. His smile was infectious.
“How much is down there?” I said, turning the small nugget around in my hand.
“A lot.”
“How much?”
“Millions of dollars worth.”
“And you’re the only one that knows about it?”
“Yes, and now you know too.”
I sighed.
“But isn’t it illegal? Whoever owns this land technically owns it all.”
He nodded. “He does.”
Oh my god. I couldn’t believe how stupid I was being.
“You own Lake Palmer?”
He nodded uneasily.
I needed to sit down.
“How did you know this was here?”
“A friend showed me. I had no idea what gold dredging was until he brought me here.”
“But you said I was the only one other than you who knew.”
“You are.”
He wasn’t making any sense, but I couldn’t comprehend it. He was far better off monetarily than I could have ever imagined.
“So it isn’t haunted?” I asked.
He shook his and unzipped the wetsuit.
“Nope. I just like my privacy,” he said.
I was still in shock when he left, changed, and then came back up on deck.
“This is amazing,” I said. “How much is this piece worth?”
He took it from me and sized it up.
“Probably three or four.”
“Hundred?”
“Thousand.”
He dropped into back in my hand and I tried to give it back to him, but he wouldn’t let me.
“It’s yours,” he said, steering the boat back toward shore.
I couldn’t stop staring at the piece of gold. I couldn’t believe that so much of this was right beneath the surface, and Dean owned it all.
THE KIDS HAD to go back to school much sooner than Dean and Kenzie did. I had yet to make the call to my university telling them that I would not be back for the spring semester, but I didn’t know if that’s what I wanted yet. Or more that I didn’t want to make it official. It was a big life change.
I drove Chase and Emma to school every morning, and Callie was much more cordial. I made them breakfast; I made them dinner; I washed their clothes and their dishes. It was all becoming very domestic, and it made me uneasy. That wasn’t the life I had planned for myself. I wasn’t sure what the exact details were, but this wasn’t it. I wasn’t supposed to be a mom at twenty-one, even to kids who weren’t mine.
On the third day of school, my phone rang and an unknown number popped up on my screen.
“Hello?” I answered uneasily. I really hated unknown numbers.
“Hello, I’m calling for Lauren Lindsay,” a stern, female voice came over the receiver.
I took a deep breath.
“This is she.”
“Ah, Miss Lindsay. I’m calling on behalf of your sister, Callie Barlow. I’ll need you to come to the school right away.”
Panic rose in my stomach.
“Is everything okay?”
She laughed curtly.
“Callie is fine, we’ll discuss the details when you arrive.”
The line clicked dead. Had this woman been a CIA agent in another life? I was not the person with whom she should be so cryptic. Not after the phone calls I had received in my life.
I got in my car and drove to Callie’s school. I had never been there before since she had her own car and didn’t need me to take her, so I parked in what appeared to be the guest lot and walked into the building. I followed the signs to the office.
“Name?” The receptionist barely looked up from the phone.
“Lauren Lindsay,” I supplied. “I’m here for Callie.”
She held up a hand and pressed a button on the receiver, then pointed to a chair.
I didn’t have the chance to sit down when I was greeted by a woman who looked like a more stern version of Susan Boyle. She held out a hand.
“I’m Jennifer Langston,” she said. “Callie’s principal.”
I shook her hand.
“Would you mind telling me what’s going on?” I asked, still concerned.
“Oh, I’m sure Callie can tell you exactly what happened, Miss Lindsay,” she said as she led me to a back corner office before shutting the door so we were trapped in the tiny, stuffy, box.
Callie was sitting with her arms crossed in one of the two chairs across from a large desk. I sat down next to her and Mrs. Langston took her seat.
“Miss Barlow?” Mrs. Langston prompted her when she didn’t speak up.
“This is so stupid,” Callie sighed, clearly exasperated.
“Just tell me,” I urged her, glancing at the principal.
“Fine,” she said quietly. I could tell she was on the verge of tears. “There’s this girl in my class who wears a wig. She has Trichotillomania. You know, that disease where people pull their hair out? Anyway, she has these bald patches on her scalp, so she wears a wig. We were in Ethics class, and she was doing a presentation on her disease. Before she could start, Shayna Perkins was like ‘I don’t want to be forced to sit here and listen to a psycho talk about her head case problem. It’s her own fault that she’s crazy and has no hair.’”
Callie took a breath and looked at Mrs. Langston.
“Tell her what happened next, Miss Barlow.”
I nodded for her to continue.
“So, I took my scissors and cut her ponytail off.”
I laughed and immediately clapped my hand over my mouth and cleared my throat.
Callie smirked.
“How much hair did you cut off, Callie?”
She sat back in her chair and recrossed her arms proudly.
“I would say, seventy-five percent of it.”
I kept a straight face and turned to Mrs. Langston.
“What is her punishment?”
“She’s suspended,” she told me. “For three days. She can come back next Tuesday so long as she doesn’t use scissors on anything else other than paper from now on.”
I nodded.
“Callie, do you understand?”
She rolled her eyes and nodded, then got up from her seat to leave. As Callie left the room, Mrs. Langston called my name.
“Miss Lindsay, you should really teach your sister right from wrong.”
I smiled.
“Mrs. Langston, with all due respect, I think she already knows right from wrong.”
I turned and shut the door on the gaping principal and followed Callie out the parking lot. When we got to her car, she turned to me.
“See you at home, I guess,” she said.
“Callie?” I pulled her close and she didn’t respond at first, probably because she was so shocked. “I’m so proud of you,” I said over her shoulder. “I’m so proud of you that I’m going to stop at the store on the way home.”
She pulled back.
“Why?”
“Because,” I told her. “I’m going to bake you a cake.”
“You suck at baking,” she said.
This was true.
“Okay,” I said. “So I’m going to buy you a cake.”
“Cool.”
“See you at home,” I told her as she got in her car. She nodded and drove away as I walked to my car. Callie and I might just get along after all.
“You did what?” Dean asked, piling a forkful of cake into his mouth. “I see why she bought you a cake.”
He fist-bumped Callie and gestured at me.
“Why does Callie get a long weekend?” Chase asked.
“Because,” I said, ruffling his hair. “She stood up for someone who was being bullied, and her teachers didn’t understand what happened.”
Chase looked confused, but complacently went back to his cake.
Emma had it smeared all over her face, and Callie was doing her best to clean it off while she continued to try to eat.
“When do you go back to school, Dean?” I asked, trying to be nonchalant.
“The sixteenth. Why?”
I shrugged. “Just wondering. I’m supposed to go back on the nineteenth.”
He stopped eating and looked at me intensely.
“What?” I asked, feeling uncomfortable.
“Well, are you?” he asked. “Going back?”
I sighed.
“I don’t know.”
He pushed his chair back from the table, grabbed his plate and Chase’s empty one, washed them, and put them in the dishwasher. Then he grabbed his jacket and said a curt goodbye as he walked out the door.
“Did anyone else think that was weird?”
Callie shrugged.
“He’s kind of moody.”
“Yeah, I noticed.”
I’D PUT EMMA to bed just as my phone rang. I shut her door as quietly as I could and ran to silence it so it wouldn’t wake her.
“Hello?”
“Guess what?” Kenzie asked.
“Hello to you too,” I said. Then, “What?”
“We’re going to a party tonight!”
“Kenzie,” I whispered. “It’s a school night.”
“Oh come on,” she said, “Don’t be boring. It’s not a school night for you. Plus, I heard our girl got suspended so she can totally watch the kids since she doesn’t have to go to school either.”
“Wait, how did you find that out?”
“Dean, silly. Who else?” she said quickly. “Anyway, Luke will be there to pick you up at ten. See you then!”
She hung up, and I stared at the phone. I guess it would be nice to meet more people here if I was considering transferring, but I hated unplanned parties. I also didn’t have too many clothing options, so jeans and a top would have to do. I paid Callie and asked her to babysit for a few hours while I was gone. She was parked in front of the TV watching a John Hughes marathon, so I figured I would be safe to leave them.
Right on cue, Luke came up to the door to get me. We still had to go and get Kenzie, who was still getting ready. When she saw me in the front seat she screeched.
“You came!” she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around me. I could tell she was already buzzed.
“I came,” I said flatly as I moved to the back seat. “Kenzie, why are you so tan?” It looked as if she was several shades darker than usual.
“It might snow!” she said, and then turned to kiss Luke’s cheek.
“What?” I asked. That made no sense. This was the second snow reference that I didn’t get.
“I’m so excited,” Kenzie said, ignoring my question. “This is going to be so fun!” She turned around in her seat and eyed my outfit. “And you just wait until Dean sees you.”
I didn’t know whether my heart jumped or fell.
“Dean is going to be there?”
“Well duh, silly! He’s like the coolest person ever!”
I sighed and twisted the hem of my shirt.
When we got there, Luke parked and Kenzie and I walked in arm in arm. Immediately, she saw someone she recognized and detached herself, leaving me completely alone. The house was huge. There were people everywhere, and there was barely a surface that wasn’t covered in red cups and alcohol.
I couldn’t do this.
I was about to walk out when Kenzie grabbed my hand and shoved a shot glass toward me.
“Come on, Lauren! Do one with me!”
“Alright,” I told her, trying to convince myself to have fun. “Just one.”
We clinked glasses and I gulped it down.
Kenzie chased hers.
“I’m all out,” the guy who poured her glass of soda told me.
I shook my head.
“I’m fine.”
He nodded like he was impressed and walked away.
I leaned up against one of the counters and looked around.
“Hey, what’s your name?” Some random guy grabbed my hand and pulled me out of my reverie.
“Lindsay,” I said, not meaning to give him my last name. It was too late to fix it. I wasn’t smooth enough to pull off “Lindsay, Lauren Lindsay.”
“Lindsay,” he said, slurring my name. “Wanna dance?”
I shook my head, but someone caught my eye. Dean was standing a room over surrounded by girls. Just the sight of it made my stomach turn.
I turned around and looked at the counter. I poured myself a double shot, took it, and then took another. I was going to need a lot of liquid courage for this.
“Sure,” I said, turning to the guy.
“Okay,” he said, raising his eyebrows at the amount of alcohol I had just downed.
He led me to dark room that was adjacent to where Dean was. The music was too loud and there were too many people, but I was starting to feel better about it as the alcohol made its way into my system. I hated things like this, but I hated seeing Dean this even more. I think the thing that I hated the most was that I even had an opinion about it.
A familiar song came on and I started dancing, hating myself for whoever this random guy was, but I tried to let go.
I stared at Dean the whole time until he turned and saw me. Our eyes met and he froze. I closed my eyes and leaned back against my dance partner, fully inebriated at that point.
“Hey,” the guy said, leaning down. “Wanna go upstairs?”
If by “upstairs” he meant “more alcohol”, that was fine by
me. The look in Dean’s eyes made me hate myself even more. I shouldn’t be doing this. This wasn’t me. I tore my gaze away from him as my dance partner led me upstairs by the hand.
Some guy I vaguely recognized as the one without chaser downstairs walked by me and I immediately stopped. He was holding half of a bottle of whiskey in his hand.
“Can I have some of that?” I asked, pointing at it.
He nodded, holding it out.
“I don’t have any chaser though,” he said again.
I shook my head. “I don’t care, remember?”
I don’t even know how many gulps I took. It tasted like water. I handed it back to him and smiled.
He looked stunned.
“I don’t know whether you’re an alcoholic or not, but I think I’m in love with you,” he said.
“Thanks,” I told him, and kissed him on the cheek.
My dance partner grabbed my hand and pulled me along the hallway into another crowded room. The light was too bright. Everyone in this room was either dancing or making out, or both.
How shambly.
He sat down on someone’s gross Ikea futon and pulled me next to him.
I let my head lull to the side. I was so exhausted. It was like everything had caught up to me.
He leaned in, brushing my hair out of my face, and tried to kiss me.
The second his lips met mine, I flinched. The last person who kissed me was someone I loved, and he had been the only one. This guy had ruined it all.
I tried to pretend that it was okay. It had been years, it was stupid that I felt like this was so sacred. Everyone else was just making out with anyone who breathed. Maybe this wasn’t so bad.
He tried to coax me into it, so I tried to let it happen. It was awful, and after a few minutes, he could tell I wasn’t all there.
“I’m too drunk for this,” I told him, pulling away. I couldn’t look at him.
I’ll never be drunk enough for this.
“Are you too drunk to get on top of me?” he said.
I wanted to gag.
I nodded.
Again, not drunk enough, apparently.
He tried to pull me onto him anyway, and forced his lips down on mine again. I tried to pull away, but his free hand held my head in place.
I felt hands grabbing my shoulders.
“Hey man, you probably don’t want to mess with her,” someone else said. “Dean’s on his way up here.”
What was this? The fifties? I didn’t belong to anyone. Boys were stupid.
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