The Taming of the Drew

by Stephanie Kate Strohm

“It’s also a good, healthy outlet for your unbridled rage,” he said, grinning.

  “I don’t have rage!” I balled up my fists to prevent myself from giving him the pummeling he so justly deserved and proving his point.

  Drew threw back his head and roared with laughter. With his heavy beard and suntanned skin, he looked like some kind of devil-may-care pirate. Or like Richard Burton in the movie version of The Taming of the Shrew. I wondered idly what he would look like without the beard. Even though he was wearing a normal, modern T-shirt, the beard made him look so old-fashioned, like he should be leading the charge at Agincourt or thundering across the countryside on horseback. He looked like a real Shakespeare hero. Not someone wimpy like Romeo or whiny like Hamlet, but someone tough, like Henry V—someone brave and rakish.

  “What are you thinking about?” Drew asked as we made our way back into what passed for a town center on the shores of Lake Dunmore. “Usually you can’t stand to be quiet for more than forty-five seconds.”

  “What? Me? Oh, hmm, nothing,” I answered quickly. I certainly wasn’t about to answer “thinking you look like a sexy pirate or a Plantagenet prince.” I’m not that stupid. “Um, bacon?”

  “You were thinking about bacon?” he repeated.

  “What? I’m hungry,” I snapped, grateful it was now dark enough that there was no way he could tell my cheeks were flaming with embarrassment. Bacon? Yikes. Not my finest example of thinking on my feet.

  “Milady needs a snack,” Drew declared before shoving the sword bag into my arms and jogging off toward the Bait ’n’ Bite.

  “Hey!” I called out as he disappeared, staggering slightly under the weight of the swords. Clearly, medieval weaponry was no proof of chivalry. Grumbling, I soldiered on after him. By the time I made it to the Bait ’n’ Bite, Drew was on his way out the door.

  “Would the lady like Twizzlers or M&Ms?” Drew held out the two giant bags of candy. “I wasn’t sure if you were a candy or a chocolate kind of girl.”

  “Both,” I answered honestly, tearing into the M&M bag. “The key to a perfect snack is in the balance.”

  “You want it all, huh? I’m not surprised.” He laughed, but there was nothing mean-spirited about it.

  “Have a Twizzler,” I offered generously. After all, it was really nice that he’d bought all that candy for me. Us. It was weird to think of us as an “us,” even if “us” only meant two humans in the same vicinity sharing two enormous bags of candy. Whatever. Still, it was nice. Almost too nice. I sniffed the M&Ms for traces of poison. Oh, who was I kidding? Most likely, the only person here who would be that diabolical was me. And I didn’t know what poison smelled like anyway.

  “A Twizzler from the bag I bought?” Drew raised an eyebrow. “How benevolent of you. Unfortunately, they’re not gluten free. Hand me the M&Ms.” He shoveled a giant handful into his mouth. “I’m starving. I can’t believe that mouse ate all my food. I still don’t get it. It just doesn’t make any sense! Why would a mouse only eat my food? How is that even possible?”

  Rather than respond to that, I stuck a long red vine in my mouth and chewed it contemplatively, like a farmer with a piece of straw, trying to look my most nonchalant. I pushed all the guilty feelings out of my mind and tried to focus on the twigs crunching beneath our feet and the hoots and chirps of birds in the woods.

  “Why do you have swords?” I blurted out. Not my most suave change of subject, but certainly better than “um, bacon.”

  “In general, or why do I have them here?”

  “Either. Both, really.”

  “Ah. Well, Lola asked me to bring them. I have no idea why, since there isn’t a sword fight in The Taming of the Shrew, but I complied. That’s why they’re here.”

  “She’s a weird one.”

  “No kidding. I thought she’d be checking in on us periodically, but I haven’t seen her since that insane climb-a-mountain exercise. That was an epic waste of time.” He snorted derisively. “What do you think she does all day?”

  “I have no idea. Gives bongo lessons?” I guessed. “Maybe she’s setting up for the rest of the season?”

  “Maybe. Still, it’s strange that we haven’t seen her since. Home sweet home,” Drew announced as we arrived at the boathouse. The moon seemed enormous, glowing as brightly in the lake’s reflection as it did in the sky.

  “And why do you own swords?”

  “They’re for stage combat. Obviously.”

  “How’d you get into that?” I asked. I certainly didn’t want to prolong our time together, but I was curious.

  “Well, for me, Shakespeare and swords have always been synonymous. You remember that production of Henry V I told you about?” I nodded. “Well, the minute I was old enough to take a combat class, I did. Then workshops, camp, pretty much anything I possibly could. I recently got certified.”

  “That’s awesome.”

  “My turn for a question.” He turned to face me, and there was something I couldn’t quite name sparkling in his hazel eyes. “Have you ever been skinny-dipping?”

  “What?” I asked, shocked. That was the last thing I expected to come out of his mouth. “No, of course not!”

  He laughed. “I had a feeling you weren’t quite the badass you make yourself out to be.”

  “I don’t think I’m a badass—”

  “Hey”—he held up his hands defensively—“nothing wrong with being afraid of skinny-dipping. Totally normal.”

  “I am most certainly not afraid,” I protested.

  “Prove it.”

  This time I instantly recognized what was in his eyes: a challenge. And if there was anything I hated more than raisins, it was backing down from a challenge. I swallowed uncomfortably, and it sounded ridiculously loud.

  Just like Marty McFly in Back to the Future, I needed to learn how to deal with someone calling me chicken. Or, you know, telling me to “prove it.” Because now I was trapped. If I just went back into the house, like a normal, sane person, Drew would have full right to mock me for being a chicken for the rest of the summer. And that I could not handle.

  So, really, I had only one option. I peeled off my sweaty T-shirt.

  “No way.” He laughed in disbelief. Then the laugh turned to a kind of strangled, uncomfortably choking noise as he realized my bra was about a foot below his eye level. Good lord, I knew my boobs weren’t much to look at, but they weren’t so terrifying they deserved a weird choking noise. “You’re really gonna do it?”

  “Watch me,” I said levelly as I kicked off my shorts. “Well, no, don’t watch me. Turn around!” At this point I was about as covered up as I would be at a beach, thanks to the excellent coverage of my Target undies, but I certainly didn’t want to stand there as I went any farther. If I went any farther. Oh, why was I doing this?

  “Modest all of a sudden.” He turned, and tapped his foot impatiently. “I’m waiting, milady. Always time to chicken out.”

  “Never,” I said determinedly. I would not chicken out. Certainly not in front of Drew, of all people.

  Before I could think about what I was doing, I whipped off my underwear and bra, and hurled myself full-speed off the end of the dock, breaking the stillness of the lake with a satisfying splash as Drew whooped and cheered.

  “Holy shit!” I spluttered as I rose to the surface. “It’s cold!”

  It wasn’t freezing, but it was cold enough that every hair on my body must have been standing straight up. If hair could do that underwater.

  “I can’t believe you did it!” Drew ran to the end of the dock to peer into the water.

  “Told you I was going to!” I splashed triumphantly. “Who’s the chicken now? Buk-buk-bakaw! Buk-buk-bakaw!”

  “Is that supposed to be a chicken?” he asked critically. “That is a terrible chicken.”

  “Shut up!” I tried to splash him, but it fell a few feet short. “That was an inspired chicken! I really felt that chicken!” He chuckled as I did a sort of casual backstroke around,
making sure to keep any and all lady parts under the dark cover of the water. “Are you coming in or what, chicken?”

  “Am I coming in …” He contemplated the question. “Should I? Probably not. What I should do is steal all your clothes and run back into the house.”

  “You wouldn’t.” My heart stopped. I was paralyzed with fear that I’d be stranded, naked, in Lake Dunmore.

  “You’re right.” He nodded, before pulling his T-shirt over his head. “I wouldn’t.”

  I was not prepared for what was under that shirt. Stunned, I stopped moving and started sinking to the bottom of the lake like a stone, until I regained my composure and started madly treading water once more.

  “No peeking!” Drew called.

  “As if, ” I said snottily as I paddled myself around to face the opposite shore of the lake. I had to admit I’d been caught off guard by the surprisingly muscular chest I’d glimpsed. Body by stage combat. Who’d have thought? Well, Amy would be pleased to hear that he had at least one inarguably not-at-all-horrible trait.

  There was a loud splash, and a giant tsunami wave splashed over me.

  “Bleargh!” I burbled, coughing up lake water. Drew popped up to the surface of the lake, hair slicked back and beard matted down like a furry otter boy. “How did you displace so much water?”

  “Cannonball!” he cheered, lifting his arms up in victory as his legs churned below the water. I sank down a little deeper, trying to make extra sure nothing below my neck was visible. Suddenly, I was all too aware of the fact that I was completely naked and mere feet away from another completely naked human being. At least, I assumed he was naked. Quickly, I glanced over to the dock. I spotted a pair of plaid boxers on top of a pile of clothes. Totally naked. This was the first time I’d been this close to another naked human being since my mom made me take baths with other babies when I was little.

  “Oh, Cass.” Drew chuckled. “It doesn’t matter how far you sink down in the water. You’re so pale that you’re glowing like a fluorescent light bulb.”

  “Are you serious?” I shrieked, trying to find a more full-coverage area of water. If such a thing even existed.

  “Redheads.” He chuckled again. “Don’t worry, I promise I won’t look,” he added kindly. “Too much.”

  “Hmph.” I doggie-paddled away, trying to put a little distance between us. Because everything was just feeling too naked and too close.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked, swimming gracefully beside me.

  “Um, hello, a little skinny-dipping etiquette, please?” I yelped as I tried to paddle a little farther away. “Do they not have personal space in Rye?”

  “Sorry, sorry,” he apologized, and floated a few feet away.

  “But you’re right,” I said softly. “It is beautiful.”

  The water was so bright it almost felt like we were swimming in the moon. I could see Drew as clearly as if it were daylight. He cocked his head, like he was considering me. I felt this weird moment of anticipation, a happy buzz of energy, just like I always feel right before the curtain goes up and I walk on stage. Except there was obviously no play here, and I couldn’t understand why I felt that feeling—that pre-show feeling that makes me happier than anything else, that heartbeat before something truly amazing begins.

  “Finally!” a female voice cried jubilantly. Whatever was going on between us was broken, and we both turned to face the dock.

  Heidi ran out of the house completely buck naked, long limbs flashing white in the moonlight. She executed a graceful dive, barely making a splash, and resurfaced near us. “I’ve been waiting forever for someone to jump in! I just didn’t want to be first!”

  Drew and I both laughed. Of course Heidi was a skinny-dipping aficionado.

  Noah and Amy came out a few minutes later, clad in their underwear. I noticed Drew’s appreciative glance at Amy’s matching pink bra and panties set with annoyance. I mean, not that I cared, good for her, since she was in love with him or whatever. But it seemed completely against the code of skinny-dipping to ogle your fellow participants. I turned away from the splash as Noah and Amy jumped into the water.

  “Hey.” Amy popped up out of the lake near me, smiling brightly. Maybe a little too brightly. “This is unusual.”

  “Is it?” I asked. “Summer night, big lake—seemed like a logical turn of events.”

  “Nothing about you and Drew voluntarily hanging out seems all that logical to me.” She was still smiling, but there was something in her eyes that made me feel like I had done something wrong. “You guys are friends now? Naked friends?”

  “What? No! I mean, yes, we are naked, but we are not friends.” Somehow that didn’t make it sound better. “We are separately naked. In the same space. No, it’s still weird. I’m sorry,” I apologized. “He just dared me, and I jumped off the dock, and … yeah. Here we are.”

  “God, Cass, it’s not a big deal.” Amy laughed, slicking her wet hair back. “I was just curious, that’s all.”

  She disappeared under the water, resurfacing near Drew. I heard her laugh ring out across the water, and although she hadn’t sounded mad, I still felt bad, like I’d done something wrong. At the time, it had seemed totally normal to jump naked into a lake with Drew, but now, looking at it through Amy’s eyes, I wasn’t so sure.

  “I brought towels you crazy mofos!” Rhys arrived in a leopard print bathrobe, carrying a stack of towels and a mug. “But the cocoa’s only for me. You lazy bastards can make your own.” He perched at the edge of the dock, dangling his feet in the water, watching the moon and sipping his hot chocolate contentedly, while the rest of us splashed and dove in the lake.

  “Best summer ever!” Amy cried much later, as we all hauled ourselves out of the lake and onto the dock. I executed a particularly crafty towel maneuver to keep myself from being exposed. “Oh, my God, that was so fun. This is the best summer ever.”

  Amy leaned her head on Drew’s shoulder, and while he seemed surprised to see a small blond head resting against him, he didn’t move away. They looked sickeningly cute in their stupid matching striped towels. Nauseatingly cute, like a marshmallow peep wedding. I knotted my own striped towel more forcefully around myself.

  “You kids are crazy.” Rhys sauntered back toward the house.

  “Come in next time!” Heidi encouraged him, dancing through the grass, still naked. I had never seen anyone so comfortable with being naked before.

  “Please. We have no idea what’s in that water.” Rhys shuddered. “Leeches? Eels? Water moccasins? Loons?” He stopped, bending down to pick up a piece of notebook paper that was folded in half, waiting on the doormat. “My, my, my, what is this?”

  “Ooo, a secret note!” Amy squealed. “Read it!”

  And so Rhys did:

  Red—

  Missed you today. Didja check out the script? Same place as before? Meet me their.

  “‘Their’?” Drew read over Rhys’s shoulder, then threw back his head and laughed. “Oh, that’s just precious. Tell me, has your boyfriend completed fifth grade yet, Cass?”

  “Oh, shove it,” I snapped, and snatched the note out of Rhys’s hands. “Reading someone else’s mail is a federal offense.”

  “I don’t think that applies to hand-delivered love notes. Good God, is that written in crayon?” Drew asked in disbelief.

  “No!” I sneaked a peek. It was totally written in crayon. “Oh, just shut up! All of you!”

  I crumpled the note into a ball and stomped angrily into the house.

  Stupid, stupid Cass. Why had I wasted a whole evening with that moron? Just when I thought he might have a few redeeming qualities, he reverted right back to his natural, troll-like self. I definitely should not have gone skinny-dipping with him. That was an activity best reserved only for people whose company you actually enjoy, not condescending jerks with swords.

  It was time for the next phase of the plan—and we would see who was laughing then.

  CHAPTER 15
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  Despite a renewed interest in tormenting Drew, I was feeling a little nervous about the next phase of our plan. It was Heidi, surprisingly, who was super gung-ho about it.

  “They’re just material possessions, Cass,” she reminded me for the millionth time, shaking her head like I was being silly for worrying about the destruction of Drew’s personal property. Or maybe I was just particularly attuned to the perils of destruction of personal property at the moment, thanks to a certain parent’s recent incarceration. “When you think about it, we’re actually doing him a favor. We’re liberating him from the chains of commodity. Maybe we should liberate everyone!” she added brightly.

  “Let’s just stick to ruining Drew’s clothes,” I said. Although “Shakespeare in the Nude” did have a certain ring to it. I knew Heidi would be on board.

  “Please count me out for clothing liberation.” Amy shook her head. “I would die if all my clothes were ruined—”

  “In a totally accidental, freak laundry machine incident, for which absolutely no one was responsible,” I finished for her, grinning wickedly. “Ready to go?”

  “All set!” Amy proudly displayed the bright red thong draped around her index finger, then twirled it a few times for good measure. “I’ve got a feeling, Cass. This is totally gonna do it. This is our Act Four moment—the big event before everything is resolved in Act Five. I wouldn’t be surprised if he dropped down to one knee in the laundry room and asked to put his hand beneath my foot, Kate-style.”

  What was wrong with me? Heidi and Amy were so optimistic, and I was just plagued by little nagging worries. I had to get it together. I’d come up with this plan in the first place. I couldn’t be the weak link now.

  “You’re sure the colors will run?” I whispered urgently as we tiptoed down the stairs.

  “I got this out of a bargain bin at the Rainbow in the mall for two dollars ninety-nine cents. Look, the color’s already coming off on my hands.” Amy rolled her eyes. “Ridiculous. That’s what I get for buying bargain bin underwear.”

  “Out out damn spot,” Heidi giggled, pointing at Amy’s Lady Macbeth-esque hands.