The lake house was built in the late 80's, hence the rickety old dock needing to be pulled out. The machines were to be there around 8, but Adam drove to the lake the night before, to say goodbye to the old thing.
Memories of the dock were stacked in Adam's brain. He had learned to fish there, it was where he had learned to skip stones. It was where he had acquired the jagged scar on his arm, from catching on to the wood, mid-dive.
As he drove down the long, bumpy road, he felt his breathing change. He had gone to this place every summer for most of his life, but it had been five years since he was here last. Now 18, he knew that things weren't going to be catastrophically different. But he wondered what was still there. If that one pair of mud boots still sat at the bottom of the shed steps, or if the frogs still croaked their way into oblivion.
The weight on his chest heaved its' way to his hands. Getting closer and closer, he began to remember the last time he was there.
Her name was Juliet, and he loved her. Only for the short two months he was there, each summer, from the age of two to 13, he loved her. Summer love was something he knew all too well, and her name still ached against his lips when his parents' mentioned her. Juliet Knighton, who lived in the red-stained house next door. Juliet Knighton, who still made his heart wrench in a thousand different places, because he didn't expect to have to leave that summer.
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She sat at the edge of the dock, her toes grazing the top of the lake. On a napkin beside her sat four Oreos, one shoved in her mouth and another in her hand. She hummed a tune quietly to herself as the birds chirped and the water splashed from fish catching their breakfasts. She heard the dock squeak and felt it knobble to one side. She turned around and smiled.
"Adam! I brought breakfast!"
His arms swayed limply at his sides as he walked the dock. He never quite trusted the thing, especially now that he was bigger. He had turned 13 that past December, but it didn't quite hit until the beginning of Summer. His Mom was grateful for it, too. It meant he could walk around in clothes just an inch too small for three months without having to worry if he was uncomfortable. But, he never was.
Adam was too much like a river to be uncomfortable with anything. He flowed every which way, made his way passed dams, and knew exactly where to end up. He was the type of person that always was who he was going to be, even if he didn't show it.
But right now, he was Adam. And there was Juliet, with cookies and a smile. He smiled back, that same crooked smile he gave everyone. But the closer he got to Juliet, it became toothy. He let his lips wander back and finally he smiled and let himself laugh. He was flushed with the feeling that he knew she was different.
"That's not breakfast, Jule. And you might as well feed the ducks with it, I can eat an entire pack by myself in a minute."
Juliet snorted. "Pft. I'd like to see that. You've been a twig your entire life, I don't think your body can even comprehend that amount of cookies exists."
She laughed at her own joke and continued to. She thought she was hilarious, and Adam knew she was. He looked at her for a second and then beyond her to the lake. Ripples of water sprang every now and again, but for the most part, the lake was glass. It was eerie and pristine.
"I have a surprise for you." He said quietly, nearly to himself. He sat down and picked up an Oreo. If she wasn't already used to how he spoke, she might've missed it. She knew to always be listening.
"Okay, so you know how I'm homeschooled right," he nearly whispered again. She said nothing, only nodded. But his eyes were still fixated on the lake, so he glanced at her eyes to make sure she was listening.
