Summer was almost over. It was the first official weekend in August, and I’d be leaving on Monday. Brit and I tried not to discuss it, soaking up every last minute together. We’d often come together frantic to touch and hold one another, and this night was no different. Elk Lake City was celebrating its annual Harbor Days with week-long festivities that included carnival rides, family activities, and a fireworks display. We’d already attended the annual parade earlier in the day, but tonight, I wanted us alone.
After I rowed us out a bit from shore, enough that we could still see Leo’s house, but Leo couldn’t make out the two of us, I stopped, allowing us to drift.
The moon wasn’t full but still bright in the dark sky.
“I leave on Monday,” I said, mentioning the unmentionable.
“I know,” Britton whispered. I reached for her, sitting opposite me. The boat wobbled as I pulled her to me, and she fell against me. Giggling, she straddled my lap. My hands ran up her back, twirling her ponytail around my fist.
“I’m going to miss you so much,” I said into her neck before kissing her. Her throat bobbed. I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to say goodbye, but I needed her to know how I felt. Continuing to suck at her skin, I nipped at her before pulling back. “Every time I look at the night sky, I’ll think of moments like this.”
She lowered for my lips, kissing mine sweetly at first. Quickly, the kiss turned more eager, desperate even, under the conditions of our impending separation.
“Make love to me. Make a new memory under the moonlight with me,” I begged.
“Here?” She questioned of the rickety old boat, on the water, in the open. . . moonlight. It was so dark, no one could really see us, and I gripped her hips, dragging her against the hard length in my shorts.
“No one will see,” I whispered against her mouth, sensing her hesitation. Slowly, she slipped off my lap to remove her underwear and hitched up her short skirt to her waist. I lowered my shorts just enough, covered myself in a condom, and returned her to my lap.
“The things you do to me,” I muttered, crushing my mouth against hers, giving us a second to rub against one another before angling her up and over me and slipping into her warm body. The position was different, as we balanced in a wobbling boat, but she’d been on me before like this in my dad’s old truck. “The things you let me do to you.”
Slowly, we moved, the boat rocking to match our rhythm. We clutched at one another, rushing to a finish line in our teenage haste. As if in a fairy tale, fireworks cracked the sky behind her, over the larger lake. The sparks were high enough to illuminate us in momentary bursts, and eventually, we came in tandem with the light show. I stared up at Britton, still over me.
“You’ll always be in my heart, Brit,” I said, sorrow filling my voice. Her eyes reflected the bright light illuminating the sky with another burst of color.
“I love you, too,” she said, and I knew nothing would ever match this moment.
Take 11
Scene: A Rainy Night
[Britton]
I don’t know why I ran away from Gavin last night. Perhaps it was the shock of how much I enjoyed his kiss. The heat of his mouth, mixing with the coldness of mine, turned my insides in a way I haven’t felt for years.
Not even with Patrick.
I hate the thought as I loved Patrick. He was my best friend and a great father. He was a wonderful man, and he didn’t deserve to lose his life so young. He’d taken on a burden he never asked for and didn’t turn his back on me. I owed it to him to remain faithful to him, even after his death.
It was silly, actually. Jenna was always trying to get me to date.
“You’re too young to play the role of a black widow, doomed and damned to loneliness for eternity.” She was so dramatic.
Perhaps it was the fact I have something important to tell Gavin, and he keeps cutting me off, distracting me before I can get the words out.
These are my thoughts as I sit in bed after a sunny day has turned into a stormy night. The wind whips outside, and the exterior door to my bedroom rattles. I’ve tried to ignore it and read to settle my wandering mind. Tomorrow will be a long day as the annual Harbor Days Festival is a pivotal event in town. We’ll be open most of the day to accommodate the influx of visitors to our little city on the bay for a morning parade, afternoon family activities, and carnival rides. By four, we’ll be closed so my employees and I can enjoy the festivities which culminate in fireworks.
The first year we were here, it was only Gee and me. Last summer, he wanted to spend time with his new friends. I allowed it with myself as a chaperone. This year, he was begging to be allowed to wander the small carnival section with friends and without a hovering mom. I was hesitant to acquiesce, but Theo was on Gee’s side and even volunteered to keep an eye out for him. I’m saddened a little as I don’t know what I’ll do with myself that night, and the idea of sitting home alone feels pathetic.
On this thought, I press the bedsheet covering my legs off to the side. With the threat of rain, I’ve closed the windows, but the room is stifling me. Another rattle occurs at the sliding door leading outside from my room, and I slip out of bed to check the closure. The house is positioned on this land sideways, meaning the bedrooms face the lake to take advantage of the breeze. Each bedroom has a sliding door with access to the yard, which doesn’t thrill me about Gee’s room, but precautions are in place to secure the door each night.
As I flip back the curtain drawn over the glass, I reach for the handle and look up. With a flash of lightning over the lake, a man is illuminated just outside the door with his hands on the opposite side of the handle.
I scream.
Then a palm flattens on the glass, and I recognize him. Hastily, I unlatch the lock and slide open the heavy door.
“Gavin, what are you doing?” He’s drenched. I hadn’t even noticed the rain had begun, but on further listening, I hear the water pummeling against the roof.
“Get in here,” I whisper-hush, although I don’t know why I’m whispering nor why I’m letting him inside my room. He stands still once he crosses the threshold, dripping on the wood flooring. My eyes scan another dress shirt, soaked through, and plastered to his firm chest.
“What were you doing out there?” I groan.
“I needed to see you.” He swipes a hand through his hair, which splatters water on the curtain behind him. “I’m a fucking mess.” An undertone to his words implies more than the drenched clothing.
“Have you been drinking?”
He shakes his head, spraying more water around the room, and I think he’s lying, but it doesn’t matter.
“You could have used the front door,” I mutter, uncertain what to do with him. “Or called.”
“Funny thing. I don’t have your number, and it’s late. I didn’t want to risk disturbing Gee. I figured coming to the back door was better than standing outside your window holding a boombox belting out ‘In Your Eyes’ by Peter Gabriel.” It takes me a minute to process the scene from the movie Say Anything.
“You wouldn’t do that.” I laugh, recalling how he did something similar when we were younger. He’d hear a song on the radio and tell me to listen to it online. He’d say the song reminded him of me, and I’d analyze every word to understand his feelings.