“I definitely was,” I say. His eyebrows arch up in surprise at my admission. “And I’m sorry. I think it was really hard for me to be open and real with anyone the past three years. You, Kiera, my dad. Myself, even.”
He stops spinning the tape, his face thoughtful as he looks at me. Finally, he holds it out to me. “You’ll prove it to me? This weekend?”
I reach out and take it from the open palm of the boy I’m meant to be with. “Absolutely.”
Kayaking is a complete mess in the best possible way.
Sending twenty kids out, half of whom have never kayaked before, for two hours of barely chaperoned fun is bound to be.
Jake tries to kill everyone the whole time, ramming into people’s kayaks at full speed, until Blake manages to knock the paddle out of his hand, stealing it and leaving him stranded in the middle of the lake.
I want to cheer, but since I’m trying to put some distance between us, that would probably not be the best idea.
Kiera coasts to a stop next to me, grinning as she watches him try to hand paddle his way back to shore. “All right, I’ll admit it,” she says, glancing over at me. “My summer FOMO aside, Blake is… pretty great.”
I nod, my gaze meeting Blake’s just past Kiera’s head, the smile on her face making my skin burn more than the afternoon sun.
I’m afraid to put into words exactly what I think of Blake, but I know “pretty great” isn’t enough.
I swallow and look away, at Matt paddling in circles around Jake, and set off after him to help, knowing that it’ll have to be.
25
The next forty-eight hours pass in an absolute blur.
From kayaking, to unsuccessfully scavenging for a four-leaf clover, to flinging myself off a rope swing into the water, I barely stop moving. And Matt is alongside me the whole weekend, Kiera pushing us closer and closer together every time we move even a foot apart.
It’s slowly starting to feel like how things used to be.
“Do a flip!” I call to him as he soars on the rope swing.
“Race you to the dining hall?” he asks, pushing me into the water before we go laughing up the path back to Huckabee Lodge.
And slowly but surely, the rest of the group begins to find a new rhythm, even with Olivia and half the students glaring at me during mealtimes and activities and in the taxidermy-filled Henry Huckabee Lodge hallway.
I try to keep a distance from Blake and our shared room, but she always finds her way into whatever we’re doing, even though she’s already made friends with just about everyone else in our grade too.
It’s a welcome relief when I find myself peacefully floating atop a donut-shaped pool float on Huckabee Lake, my legs still sore from a hike Kiera led us on before lunch.
I raise my head, flipping my sunglasses up and squinting against the bright afternoon sun at the glittering water, the circle of trees around the perimeter, and Henry Huckabee Lodge peeking through the branches. I scan the throngs of students, taking a quick inventory. Kiera is a few feet away from me in an oversize inner tube, Blake is lounging on the dock with a sketchbook, and Matt, Jake, and Ryan have convinced half the boys on the trip to launch themselves off said dock in a very intense belly-flop competition. I can see their fire-engine-red arms and legs from here.
I grimace, watching as Jake slaps the water flat as a pancake, my skin burning as the boys cheer like he just scored a game-winning touchdown.
I slide my sunglasses back on and go to shift farther up in my donut float, but the plastic screeches noisily and as it wobbles past vertical, it tips sharply.
“Shit!” I squeak out as I flip backward off it into the lake, my mouth and nose filling with bacteria-ridden water as I claw my way back to the surface, pushing through the murkiness.
Coughing, I’m about to chalk this up to a bit of bad luck when I feel something lightly tap my shoulder.
Looking over, I see a red lifeguard float sitting atop the water, Matt at the other end of it, a playful grin I haven’t seen since before junior prom plastered on his face.
“Looked like you needed rescuing,” he says.
I push my hair out of my face, glaring as I toss the float back at him. “Rescue yourself, Matt!”
He laughs, and I splash him square in the face, but his hands reach out to grab mine, stopping me from splashing again as he takes a step closer to me. His normally unkempt hair is slicked back with lake water, his shoulders and chest red from belly flopping.
Despite myself, I think of Blake in Huckabee Pool, my breath hitching as she took that step closer to me. How different that moment felt compared to this one. How much… more.
Almost instinctively, I pull my hands out of Matt’s, but I know even before I see his face fall that it’s the wrong move.
Stay on course, Emily.
I look back up at him, giving me a small smile as I hold up my freshly tattooed arm, the dishwashing glove lost somewhere in my tumble. “I need to go disinfect this,” I say, offering an explanation as I grab my donut float and turn back toward the dock. “And you need to go lose your belly-flop competition.”
He grabs my arm, stopping me. “You going to the bonfire tonight?” he asks.
The Midnight Bonfire. It’s a Huckabee Lake trip tradition. One that’s gone on since the very first trip a bajillion years ago. The teachers turn a blind eye for the night, and all the students sneak out, heading to the lake for a bonfire and some after-hours fun.
I nod and he smiles,
