“I prefer my freedom. And I am not interested in any of the boys here.” The breeze blew her hair across her face, and I noticed a faint blush creeping into her cheeks.
“Here, turn around.” I reached out and gently turned her. I started to braid Vail’s golden locks into an intricate pattern. In the quiet moments like these, I remembered all the times we had stayed up late into the night, sharing secrets under the stars, and how it always ended with me braiding Vail’s hair. She was the closest thing I had to a sister.
“There you go. All finished,” I announced, her once wild hair now elegantly braided.
With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she exclaimed, “Do you know what I wish to do?”
“I have a feeling.” A grin spread across my face, and I seized her hand as we hurried toward the shed in the garden.
I reached for my father’s old hunting shotgun and a box of ammunition. My mother had taught me how to handle the gun when I came of age, always emphasizing the importance of self-defence. We would often use apples for target practice in the orchard. Although my mother no longer approved of our impromptu shooting sessions, Vail and I both enjoyed honing our skills and spent many hours practising.
With the shotgun and ammunition in hand, we ventured down the forest path toward the river, where the rushing water would muffle the sound of our gunshots. Beneath the late afternoon sun, we stood shoulder to shoulder, with Vail holding the shotgun.
As Vail’s fingers wrapped around the stock, I offered some guidance. “Remember, steady hand, steady breath.”
She stabilized herself and squeezed the trigger. It let out a muffled crack, but the apple placed on the stone wall remained untouched. Disappointment marred Vail’s face as she handed the shotgun to me. “Damn. Your turn.”
I took my place at the firing line and pressed the stock firmly against my cheek. I breathed in and carefully aimed at the apple. Breathing out and with a squeeze, I fired, and the apple exploded in a burst of pulp and juice.
“You make it look so easy,” Vail remarked.
With a hint of pride, I handed the shotgun back to her. “It’s all a matter of practice and focus. Now, let us see if you can manage it this time.”
Before she could aim, I noticed her muttering under her breath, and she wiggled her fingers as she adjusted her grip. I paused, my eyes narrowing.
“You aren’t relying on magic, are you?” I asked, half-teasing, half-intrigued.
Vail gave me a sheepish grin. I could see the concentration in her face as she adjusted the gun’s trajectory. She pulled the trigger, and I saw the apple move slightly to the left before it exploded.
Her eyes sparkled with satisfaction, and she turned to me, her smile wide. “You were right, I simply had to focus.”
“Focus … and magic,” I muttered.
We spent the rest of the afternoon taking turns, and as the sun moved higher in the sky, the heat intensified, and beads of sweat formed on Vail’s neck. She took the back of her hand and wiped away the sweat. I couldn’t help but reach out and tuck a stray piece of hair back into her braid.
Vail’s eyes locked with mine. Just as I thought she was about to say something, the words caught in her throat. She cleared it and finally said, “It is quite hot. Want to go for a swim?”
“Yes, though we must hurry. I do not wish for my mother to fret over me; you know how she is.”
We headed down to the shore, where the water sparkled like scattered diamonds in the sun. Vail set down the shotgun on a rock, her movements graceful and fluid as she slipped off her shoes and socks. She stood up and stretched her arms.
I couldn’t help but watch, captivated by the graceful lines of Vail’s figure, the curves hidden beneath the flowing fabric of her dress.
It was a moment of quiet admiration; one I quickly felt a twinge of embarrassment about. I turned my attention elsewhere, hastily unlacing my boots and removing my socks, eager to distract myself from the thoughts that had begun to stir.
Hand in hand, we ran toward the water. The worries of the world faded with each stroke of the river’s cool embrace. I swam farther out until my toes no longer touched the slick,moss-covered rocks. The water cradled me, and I floated, free and light.
Exhausted and breathless from swimming, I finally collapsed onto the soft, rolling grass at the river’s edge. Vail lay down next to me, her wet dress clinging to the curves of her body. She spread her arms wide, gently brushed them against my dress, and let out a sigh of contentment. “This is perfect, Rosie. I do wish it would stay warm forever.”
I nodded in agreement. “Me too. I never want this to end.” I stretched my arms above my head, my fingers twisting in the long grass.
A peaceful silence enveloped us, and Vail turned to face me. Her lips were a soft pink, matching the blush on her cheeks. She reached out and gently traced the freckles along the ridge of my nose. Her hand lingered longer than it should have, and I noticed her breath seemed to tremble. “I love you,” she said with a small smile. Though we often expressed our affection for one another, this time, it felt different. My heart quickened in response to her words.
With a sudden and bold movement, Vail leaned in and pressed her lips to mine. Time seemed to freeze for an instant as her soft lips lingered. Vail pulled back, her eyes wide with surprise and shame. I felt her absence as soon as she drew away, an unexpected longing filling me. As the moment settled and the space filled between us, I felt a mixture of shock, confusion, and an unfamiliar fluttering in my stomach.
“I … I’m so sorry,” Vail stammered, her cheeks flushing to a deep shade of crimson. “I do not know what came over me.” She quickly gathered her shoes and put them on.
“No need to apologize,” I replied, my voice steady. Vail’s eyes held a glimmer of hope. However, before either of us could say another word, Vail stood up and fled, running along the riverbank.
