Chapter two
It was a few days into summer vacation, day three of our stay at the Lake House. The rest of the family had gone for a quad ride, with Dexter’s family, leaving the two of us behind, to get reacquainted and hang out.
After a few years, we stopped the postcards and now our only communication during the school year was via the internet. Because of this, the first few days were always awkward.
I sat on a rock, on the water’s edge, while Dexter skipped rocks, creating tiny ripples in the lake with each bounce. The only sound was the faint chirping of birds and rustling of leaves in the distance. And, although we weren’t speaking, it was a peaceful silence, no words having to be exchanged to let him know I was enjoying myself.
It wasn’t that I didn’t WANT to say anything; I always loved talking to him. No, it was more of a, “I have no idea what to say to you, because whenever I try and say something intelligent, it just sounds completely stupid.”
Yes, I was going through the awkward, self-conscious teenage girl phase. It happens to the best of us.
This, effectively, cut off all means of communication.
After a few more throws, Dexter came to sit beside me, so close I could feel his body heat radiating into my skin.
“I love this time of year,” he whispered, breaking the silence. I merely nodded, inhaling the sweet scent of the outdoors.
The water began to smooth out, the ripples fading away into the rest of the water. The sun wasn’t so hot it was uncomfortable, and yet the wind wasn’t so cold as to be unbearable. Looking back on it now, I realize how ideal the set up was for me to have my first kiss. The boy sitting close to me, so close I can smell his sweat, him whispering my name, me turning to find us nose to nose, him leaning in and…
I bite his nose.
Because, 14-year-old me decided that being awkward was more important than the most romantic thing that had happened to her to date. In second place had to have been in second grade when I shared a water bottle with Peter Fell, which in my case, was basically like indirect kissing. But back to the subject at hand.
He jumped back, holding his nose in shock, staring at me with wide eyes. “Wh… Why? Wha…? You…? Nose?” He stuttered out, unable to contain his confusion. His blue eyes stared up at me in wonder, unable to understand the meaning behind my action.
Did I want to kiss him? Did he want to kiss me? I wasn’t sure, nor did I want to know. We were friends. He was the one good thing summers gave, and I sure didn’t want to ruin that. At least, I didn’t think I did. I had never really considered us as anything but friends.
So without another word, I took off towards the dock, stripping off items of clothing as I went. Left at the end of the dock in just my bathing suit, I dive in the freezing cold lake water, stifling the urge to shriek as my bare flesh touches the icy grasp of the water.
I resurface quickly to find Dexter still sitting on the log, just staring out at me in wonder, his mouth slightly ajar. I beckon him with my head, indicating he should jump in as well. He doesn’t respond, choosing to stay silent and stoic. I merely shrug and duck my head under, ready to practice my one handed-underwater handstand.
