Page 4 of It Started at the Lake

I still laugh over the fact that she chose to live in student housing when she started college five years ago. She’d simply shrugged and said she wanted to experience college like a “normal student” when I’d asked her about it our freshman year.

Thankfully, we moved out of our dorm before our sophomore year and into our apartment we have now. Living with the two of us is way more fun than with six girls.

“Camden will be there,” she sings, like mentioning her brother, who she has tried to set me up with multiple times (and failed) is a selling point.

It’s not.

I grab Evie’s hand. “Okay, I’ll come with you.” My tone suggests I’m the one doing her the favor, though we’re both well aware it’s the other way around. And I would have agreed to come no matter what. I have a hard time saying no to her. “But I need to find a job. Is there a restaurant I could serve at or something?”

She squeals and pumps my hand up and down. “Yay! I’m so excited. This is going to be the best summer ever! For once, I won’t be the only girl.”

I note she purposely doesn’t answer my question about a job. It’s fine. I’ll look when we get to Stokesley. “Thank you for saving my butt from a lonely three months. I’m looking forward to hanging around the lake and doing recreational activities.”

She shakes her head, her blonde ponytail swaying behind her. “Are you kidding me? Do you know how annoying it is being around a bunch of guys all the time?”

Negative, ghost rider. I do not.

I have this bad habit of always picking the wrong man to date, which has left me with a broken heart way too often. Until I figure out how to keep myself from immediately assuming my happily ever after right after meeting someone, I’m on a break from dating. “You’re related to them. Of course it’s not that fun.” And I have to think of them like family as well so I don’t repeat my old patterns.

From the pictures Evie’s shown me, she’s related to some of the hottest guys I’ve ever laid eyes on, but it’ll be fine. I’ll be fine, I lie to myself.

She points at me. “Exactly. This summer all of that changes. Instead of being the lone wolf, I’ll have my she-pack with me. The people of Stokesley better watch out because you and I”—she wiggles her brows—“are in for a summer of fun!”

What she thinks is fun and what I think, are as different as the desert and a rainforest. “Just know I will not pretend to like some guy’s friend so you can hang out with the man you’re interested in. Okay?”

She wrinkles her nose like what I suggested is disgusting, though that exact scenario has played out multiple times in our friendship. “We’re not freshmen anymore. If I like someone, I can date him on my own.”

I hold back my snort. “I’m going to remind you of this conversation later.”

She stands, smoothing out the wrinkles on her khaki paperbag shorts. “You won’t need to. But come on”—she holds her hand out to me—“we need to get laundry done and start packing.”

I put my hand in hers, letting her pull me up. “I’ll get a load of lights started, then scrub down the bathroom. Want to tackle the dishes?”

“You know I’ll do the kitchen over the bathroom any day of the week.”

I have to give Evie’s parents props. Most rich kids Evie told me about have “a person for that,” meaning they don’t know how to cook, clean, or do laundry because they’ve always had someone there to take care of it for them. Evie’s parents made sure she functioned like a mostly normal adult.

In our bedroom, I sort dirty clothes into white, light, and dark piles on the floor. The first time I met Evie’s parents, Harvey and Clara, I thanked them for raising Evie and allowing her to room with me. For being multimillionaires, they were really down to earth. Honestly, I thank my lucky stars every day for Evie, and now her family, too.

Because of them, I'll get to experience a new place with my best friend before my last two years of college, all while keeping my heart safe.

It’s a win-win summer for me.

CHAPTER 4

Bennett

The sun tips over the treetops to the west, casting long shadows across the grass. This point of the day is when the lake no longer feels refreshing, but is downright cold. The wind often picks up and the waves get bigger.

I’m standing in my red swim trunks with my brother Emerson and cousin Camden down by the beach, waiting for Henry to arrive for our inaugural jump into the lake. It’s a tradition my grandparents started when they bought the house for their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. The first thing when arriving at the beginning of every summer, everyone has to run down to the dock and jump into the lake. Often we do it in our clothes. Because I arrived earlier than everyone else, I took time to get in my swimsuit.

Goosebumps rise along my skin as a breeze blows against my bare chest.

“If Henry doesn’t hurry his butt up, I’m jumping in without him,” I say, shaking out my arms. I’m getting impatient in my old age. Not that thirty is old, but considering what my life has been like the past three years, I feel like I’m fifty.

“He must be taking a dump, considering how long he’s taking,” Camden says dryly. His red- and white-striped towel hangs over his right shoulder.

“Maybe his trunks are too small and he’s embarrassed to join us,” Emerson adds. “I’m giving him two minutes. We’re breaking tradition standing here.”

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