“Fine. I’ll keep my mouth shut,” she shouts as she stomps her way down the hall. “But I’m only trying to stop you from getting your heart broken. You may not have my back anymore, but I sure as hell have yours.”
The slam of her door goes off like a gunshot.
“Fuck,” I grunt, before heading outside to clear my head.
A smooth, clean line bisects the water, and I recognize the kook stroking through the lake. It’s bright and early, and Warren is already doing laps like he’s training for the Olympics.
“What the hell.” I jump into my canoe and paddle out until we’re parallel.
“You and me,” he shouts, pointing over to the buoy at the distal end, and I give a thumbs up.
We start neck-in-neck as we race over toward the forest end of the lake. Warren and I have done this a million times. Hell, I credit myself for getting his sorry ass into rowing to begin with. Way back when, it was me who spent hours training him before he took flight on his own, and now, here we are, going at it like the prize was Reese herself, only Warren wouldn’t know that because he thinks he already has her—owns her.
I pull out a good twenty feet, and he never catches me. We spin around, and he points to the other side, and we do it all over again.
Warren and I glide up onto the white sandy beach of Pleasure Point and roll out of the tiny boats. My muscles are on fire, and I can’t catch my breath.
“Dude,” he pants. “You must have wanted that bad. I don’t think I’ve ever had my ass kicked so hard.” He slaps his stomach as he lets out a howl.
“I usually get what I want.” Not quite accurate but in this case, with Reese, I hope to God it’s me who’s the last man standing. “So what’s up? What’s going on in your life, bro?” I’m not sure what I’ll do if he fesses up to wanting to pop the question. There’s no way Reese and I could carry on this summer charade unless she clears the air with him—that is if she wants to.
“Just the same bullshit day after day—doing an internship for my dad, playing lackey.”
“Cool.” My stomach loosens with relief. He didn’t even mention her. Maybe she’s not that important to him.
“I’m having a big party next week, you up for some bro’s and hoes? We got to get you laid, dude.”
“The party sounds good. I might have plans though.” A vision of Reese moaning beneath me bumps through my mind, and I don’t fight it. “Don’t worry about me. I’m pretty damn lucky these days. And you?” I know for a fact he’s not getting any.
“Got me a wild one. Sucks me off like it’s nobody’s business.” He gravels out a laugh, and I flinch. “She’s got some douche on the side, and I don’t even fucking care, man. It’s sort of an open relationship right now, anyway.” He gets up on his elbows and stares off at the water. My stomach pinches tight, and that cup of coffee I just downed burns through me like battery acid. Why do I get the feeling I’m the fucking douche. “Reese and I will do the whole monogamy thing once we tie the knot, but for now, it’s a summer of sowing some serious oats if you know what I mean. We both know we’re buckling down come fall.”
Shit. Is that what I am? An oat?
“She’s really okay with that?” I find it doubtful.
“Hell, yes”—he cinches his head back a notch—“she’s the one that suggested it. Don’t let that sweet, innocent routine of hers fool you, Reese is nothing but a bad girl waiting to let loose. It’s her best kept secret. But don’t tell her I said so. I’ll deny it every single time.” He gets up and jumps back in his canoe. “Do yourself a favor and find yourself someone like Reese. Life doesn’t get any better than that.” He sails off, and I watch as he pumps his way toward his father’s overgrown house.
I thought I did find someone like Reese.
Now I wonder if I know Reese at all.
Catching Shadows
Reese
“So?” Kennedy stares at me from over the rim of her coffee cup. Her nose is bunched up, her lips set to a snarl, giving her all the drama of a demon, and her ears peak back like an elf’s. I’m guessing over breakfast isn’t the best time to let her know I think she looks like a demon elf. “How’s the bigracefor your virginity?”
Kennedy has long since dubbed herself the keeper of my V-card. As soon as she lost hers, she put mine on a timer.
“It’s getting pretty heated.” That’s like saying the surface of the sun is a little hot. I want to keep all the orally delicious details to myself, but a fire rips through me, and I’m pretty sure she can see it blistering over my skin—goose bumps in the shape of a thousand little penises.
She pumps a dry smile like a lioness ready to pounce her virginal prey.
“Spill the semen, like Ace did,” she insists.
“I’m not discussing bodily fluids over breakfast with you.”
Kennedy is fresh from the shower with her white plush robe pulled snug around her body, her hair wrapped in a towel two feet above her head like a pile of whipped cream. She smells sweet like sugared pears. It reminds me of a dessert my mother used to make. Mom would boil the pears once they began to bruise and sprinkle brown sugar over them. I still do it now and again just to keep her culinary traditions alive. Only next time I’ll pretend I’m boiling Kennedy and her foul mouth, and I find that mildly amusing.
