The Lake

Hope

YEAR 2003

"Mommmmm.." I shout. "I'm going to be in the back.. on the pier."

"Okay, sweetie. Be careful & dinner is in an hour, so be back on time."

"Okay!" I shout as I turn the knob open to exit through the back door. I've lived in this house for all of my seven years of life, & my favorite spot will always be: The Lake. I never get tired of it's calmness & haunting beauty. Our house has a lake in the backyard, & my mom even bought a water trampoline a few years back for me & my big brother, Harry, to use. I walk down the long, off-white pier connected to the end of my backyard. I take my flip flops off, & I dip my toes in the fresh water.

The air is a crisp, 70 degrees on this Summer Day. School starts in a few days, & I'm not ready to start the second grade. Second grade is when we have to start taking real tests & learning more stuff, not just the alphabet or simple addition & subtraction. I sigh as I throw little rocks at the water, causing a ripple effect. I wish I had someone to talk too.. Yeah, I have a few friends from school, but they live across town. I want to live next to someone & experience this gorgeous lake with them. We could hop on my trampoline & swim in the clear, blue water. We could run up & down my pier & see who could jump into the water the furthest. We could talk all day & night until our parents made us come inside & go to sleep.

We could be best friends, through elementary school & middle school, even high school.

But even as a young seven year old, I know I'm being delusional, & that'll probably never happen. The closest thing I have to a best friend is my brother. But he's two years older than me, & he doesn't like playing with me because I "cry all the time," according to him. It's not my fault that he's mean & likes to push me around. I swear, he thinks I'm a boy, so he's always too rough on me, & then, he gets even more mad when I tell our parents on him. But he deserves it. Stupid nine year old thinks he's better than me when I'm way smarter than him already. & I'm the good child that my parents favor.

"Hey.." My angry thoughts are broken by a small, unfamiliar voice. I snap my head to the left to see a skinny, young boy with a mushroom style haircut standing over me. His blonde hair is a unique shade of golden yellow, & it even has traces of dark brown at the roots. His eyes are as blue, or even bluer, as the lake that I've grown to love over the years..

"Um.. Hi." I respond. He rubs his hand over the back of his neck, & he begins to dart his eyes all around.

"My mom saw you sitting out here alone, & she thought I should come say hi.. so.. hi." He repeats.

"Hi," I repeat, not really knowing what to say. I've only talked to a few boys in my life, including Harry. The boys in my class are so annoying, & some even still believe that we have cooties. Seriously. Girls with cooties? "Oh, grow up, will you?" I always feel like shouting at them. I'm very mature for my age, which is why I'm sure I only have a few girl friends.

"I'm Luke." He sticks out his hand for me to shake.

"I'm Hope," & I place my hand in his & move it up & down, slowly. They're cold & clammy, probably because he's nervous.. But why would he be nervous around me? It's just me. "You can sit down." I move over to give him room on my dusty pier.

"Thanks.." His voice is shaky, & he sits down next to me.

"So? Are you new here?" I ask.

"Yeah, we just moved here from Sydney. In Australia. In that house." That's when I notice his accent. He doesn't sound too bad, & it's not as thick as a British accent, so I like it. I like it a lot. He points to the large, red brick house next to mine. Cool.