Page 29 of Break My Heart
‘I don’t even know you. I can’t be friends with someone I don’t know.’ I get in the canoe and grab the paddle. ‘Ready to race?’
He gets in the other canoe. ‘So what’s the plan?’
‘We paddle to the other side of the lake and back. Whoever gets back first wins.’
‘Did you decide on a place for breakfast?’ he asks, getting his paddle in place.
‘There’s not going to be a breakfast.’ I give him a smug grin. ‘Don’t you remember camp? I was three canoe lengths ahead of you. You didn’t even come close to catching up.’
‘Three lengths, huh?’ He smiles. ‘That’s a lot of detail for someone who claimed not to remember me from camp.’
‘I remember this annoying kid who complained when he didn’t win. I’m guessing that was you.’
‘I didn’t complain. I got angry. And you weren’t three canoe lengths ahead of me.’
‘Can we stop talking and just do this? I have a lot to get done this morning.’
‘Count of three. One. Two. Three.’ He takes off.
‘Hey! I wasn’t ready!’ I yell, struggling to get the canoe away from the shore. When I finally do, Sawyer is a third of the way acrossthe lake. ‘Shit,’ I mutter, paddling as fast as I can to catch up. But Sawyer’s already at the end and turning around. His muscular arms are moving the paddle through the water like it’s no effort at all.
‘Great weather this morning!’ he yells as he passes me on his way back to the shore, a smirk on his face and not even out of breath.
What was I thinking? We’re not seven anymore. He’s a grown man. He’s bigger and stronger than me. Of course he’s going to beat me. I should’ve picked a different activity, one that had us on a more level playing field.
By the time I make it back to shore, Sawyer’s canoe is on the stand and he’s relaxing on a bench.
‘I don’t want to hear it,’ I say, lugging my canoe out of the water.
‘Need some help with that?’
‘Nope.’ I take a moment to catch my breath, then drag the canoe across the shore and hoist it up on the stand.
‘Have a seat,’ Sawyer says.
I go over and sit next to him on the bench, my arms still burning from paddling so fast.
‘Good race,’ he says.
‘Of course you would say that.’ I stare out at the lake. ‘You won.’
‘You really thought I wouldn’t?’
‘I didn’t at first, but then I remembered we’re not seven anymore.’
‘Maybe I let you win back then.’
I look at him. ‘You didn’t let me win.’
He smiles at me. ‘How do you know I didn’t?’
‘You’re too competitive to let someone win.’
‘Maybe I was being nice.’
‘To me?’ I laugh. ‘You hated me.’
‘I didn’t hate you.’
