I follow Mom and Dad to the side of the house where abeautiful dark wood door leads into a little tiled entryway that dumps into a long room. To the right is the kitchen, and to the left is a round wooden table and white chairs. Behind it, a row of three windows looks out toward the lake.
The kitchen is twice the size of our old kitchen, with a little peninsula that juts out and three bright red metal stools. Beyond it is a large living room with skylights, and a three-season room to the left that leads out to a large two-tiered deck. Like Lake House A, this house is set on a hill, but we’re right on the edge of it, practically hanging over the water, set alongside a little jut of trees. To the left of the deck, a small beach area stretches out, and a dock cuts into the water.
On the opposite end of the house there is a master bedroom with bathroom on one side of the hallway, and a large bedroom on the other side. Beyond them are a laundry room and a large bathroom. At the end of the hallway are two more bedrooms. Everything in this house is in shades of white, blue, and gray, with pops of yellow here and there. Compared to the dark paneling and garage-sale furniture of Lake House A, it’s like looking into the sun, being surrounded by so many pale colors.
“This is ridiculous,” I say as I join my parents out on the deck. The sun is setting and the trees that stretch up across the hills on the opposite side of the lake look like they’re on fire. The house isn’t that fancy, but it’s a million times nicer than what I’m used to at the lake. There’s an attention to detail here that Nadine obviously never bothered with. This feels like a house someone might live in all year. It almost feels too nice for a vacation house. There’s something comfortable and low-stress about worn-in furniture and mismatched lamps. “We can afford this?”
I regret saying it. My parents don’t ever bring up money. I have no idea how much our usual cabin costs, but this one is at least twice as big and ten times as nice, so I can only assume.
“It would be a bit of an adjustment,” Mom says, leaning on the railing next to me, her eyes fixed on the lake. Her voicesounds cautious. Maybe this isn’t a done deal. Maybe I shouldn’t get my hopes up. I look out across the water, trying to make out where our old house would be on the horizon, but everything looks like a mass of green and blue from this distance.
Behind us a door slams, and I hear voices inside the house. I hear Sylvie first.
“Did they find a house, too?” I say in Mom’s direction, before they reach the deck and it becomes rude to ask.
“They did,” Mom says, her voice full of relief.
I smile, glad that Asher and I didn’t ruin everyone’s summer. Maybe this can all still be salvaged after all.
“Where?” I ask as Sylvie steps out onto the deck, followed by Greg and Asher.
Mom pushes her hair back from her face and looks to my dad, who takes a step toward my mom, like they need to be a united front. But a united front for what?
Asher pushes through the door from the three-season room and his lips are tipped up in the faintest hint of a smirk. He looks like he’s about to sneak off to find my purse and fill it with earthworms. But he stays right where he is, just outside of the door, and greets me with a tip of his head. “Hey, roomie.”
My heart sinks. Drops to my feet and rolls right off of the deck and into the lake. “Excuse me?” I’m talking to Asher, but I’m looking at my mother, who is giving Asher a sideways scowl.
“We were getting to that,” she says, a smidge more irritated than I’ve ever heard her with him.
Asher looks appropriately scolded, and shoves his hands into his pockets. “Sorry, Ms. Walters.”Ms. Walters?What a little suck-up.
“Seriously?” It’s the only thing that will come out of my mouth—I can’t even form a full sentence. All of the words have left my head.
“Obviously you’re not sharing an actual room.” She shakes her head at me, like I’m being ridiculous, even though I’ve onlysaid one word. “This is the best-case scenario. We can’t find anything else on short notice and together we can afford this.”
I look back out at the lake and let it settle over me. Seven weeks in the same house as Asher Marin. Not just dinners together, but probably breakfasts and lunches, too. A shared television, and deck, and yard. A shared bathroom, maybe. Access to my…everything.I’ll have to buy padlocks for my dresser drawers. Maybe something industrial to lock up my unmentionables.
“My room is off-limits,” I say, fixing Asher with a stare.
“Of course,” Dad says, a little more aggressively than I was expecting. I think he and I have different concerns regarding what Asher could do in my bedroom. Behind my mother, Sylvie is nodding her agreement.
Asher has wandered over to the side of the deck closest to the yard, and I sneak a glance at him. He’s already looking at me, his face emotionless. “Of course.” He shoves his hands into his pockets and raises his brows at me. “Same goes for you.”
I cut him a glare and my eyes dart over to my parents. This is the most we’ve ever let on about our…issues…in front of them. “Of course.”
Mom squeals and Sylvie does a giddy little jump in place. Dad and Greg nod in approval, clearly proud of themselves for finding a solution to what could have been a disastrous end to everyone’s vacation.
“This place is going to be like a freakish college reunion soon,” Asher mutters as he walks past me. “Let’s go pick bedrooms.” He says it so casually that I’m waiting to hear what teasing comment comes next, but nothing does.
I follow him off of the deck and back into the house, which, even at dusk, is luminescent. We’re halfway down the long white hallway when Asher finally speaks again. “I don’t care which one I get, so you pick.” He stops in front of the two rooms at the end of the hallway, one on the left and one on the right.
“We’resharinga bathroom? What kind of fresh hellisthis?”
“The kind where we don’t have to go home and sit in our normal houses for the summer.” He nods toward the bedroom door to my left. “Don’t be a baby.”
I fight the pout I was about to give him and I can see the smirk forming as I twist my mouth into what I’m sure is an absolutely demented-looking smile.
“You can lock your bathroom door from the inside,” he says. “Not that I plan to creep into your room.”
