Page 65 of Overachiever
Chapter Twenty-One
Owen
It’s a nice day, cooler than usual without the normal humidity late summer likes to smack us with. We have a spot where we typically go to fish. It’s also a popular spot for some of the high schoolers to swim, and I’m glad to see it’s empty today. You’d have to be young or dumb to jump in that water. Or unafraid of a skin infection.
Graham and I drag a cooler of beer down the embankment, then the lawn chairs and fishing equipment, before going back for Marty. He’s been doing a lot better, but there’s no way he’s making it down with crutches. Instead, Graham and I get on either side of him and haul him down to the waiting lawn chair.
“I could get used to this. Who wants to rub my feet?” he taunts.
“You know how fast you’d sink with that cast, right?” Graham threatens.
I grab a few beers out of the cooler and toss one to Graham. “Faster if we tied him to the chair and threw the whole thing in.”
“Keep your kinky bondage games in the bedroom,” Marty says, shaking his head when I offer him a beer.
Graham frowns. “Are you still taking those pain pills?”
“Relax Dad, I only have a few left.” Marty accepts the fishing rod I hand him, and we all focus on getting the lines in the water.
Sitting on the bank, we’re all quiet for a while, listening to the rushing water and watching for a sign of a bite. It’s nice, and it makes me miss home a little. I didn’t grow up in the middle of the woods or anything, but in a rural area with no close neighbors, and fields on all sides. A small stream cuts through, separating our property from the next, and I spent countless hours out there wading and catching tadpoles.
Maybe it’s just on my mind because I’m looking forward to going home and taking Remee to meet my family. I know they’re going to love her.
“Why are you grinning at your reel like an idiot?” Marty asks, interrupting my thoughts.
“Fuck off. I was thinking about seeing my brothers in a couple of days. Everyone’s coming home. Remee agreed to go with me too.”
“Brave girl. I’ve met your brothers,” Graham says with a chuckle.
Marty yanks on his line and sits up, reeling like crazy. We all laugh when a tiny fish breaks the surface of the water. “I had bigger goldfish as a kid,” I tell him, when he throws it back.
The size really doesn’t matter. We’re just catching and releasing anyway. Fishing is more of an excuse to get away and have some beers outside while it’s still summer.
“I had a rainbow fish as a kid,” Marty remarks.
Graham looks at him. “It was different colors?”
“Nah, not striped like a rainbow. It just changed colors every few months.”
“You’re full of shit.” I reel my line in to see my worm has been stolen and rebait it.
Marty casts his line again. “Seriously. Coolest fish ever. We didn’t know it was a rainbow fish when I first got it. It was just a yellow fish. But a few months later, I came home from school and it had turned orange.”
Graham glances at me before asking Marty, “Did it change color again?”
“Yeah, at least four times. I remember coming home from baseball camp and it was white. Mom called me when I was staying a weekend at my grandmother’s to tell me it had turned gray.”
By now, I’m fighting not to laugh and if I look at Graham, I’m going to lose it.
“What happened to it?” Graham asks, sliding his hand across his mouth.
“Died. I found it floating when I woke up one Saturday morning and buried it. I was upset, but dad said I could get a puppy, so I got over it.”
Graham’s shoulders start shaking, and he buries his face in his hands.
“What?” Marty asks.
When Graham looks at me, I swallow hard to keep from laughing. “I don’t…I don’t know whether to tell him,” I admit.
