14. Sawyer #2
I walk down the gravel driveway, pebbles finding their way into my sandals. The small amount of discomfort feels good, in a weird way. It distracts me from the actual pain.
The cottage sits on a quiet street a short walk from the lake.
I’ve grown to love this part of Lake Mercer, with its collection of summer rentals and small lake houses scattered among the trees.
The county may neglect maintaining the area, and the dirt roads get flooded when it rains, but it’s nice to be around homes that don’t have seven days a week landscaping services and sports cars in the driveway.
This is the part of town that families come back to year after year, roasting marshmallows in backyard firepits and spending their days playing on the sandy shores.
No fancy boat slips or private docks. And they’re not here because it’s trendy.
It’s the exact opposite. I felt bad that Owen was missing out on staying at the Aldrich lake house on the better side of Lake Mercer…
but really, we are on the better side. I wish I realized it sooner.
A screen door slams on my left. I glance over and see an older couple walking out onto their porch, coffee mugs in hand, watching me. I can’t help but wonder if they saw me on this morning’s news.
I look away and keep walking.
The street smells like wet earth and pine needles, that familiar scent of an Upstate New York summer morning when the dew hasn’t burned off yet. Somewhere a lawnmower starts up, and a dog barks.
Normal sounds on a normal day…like the world didn’t just end.
I pass by another yard with nautical towels hanging on a clothesline and wind chimes tinkling in the slight breeze.
As the road curves, I spot the weathered “Lake Access” sign.
Once I start on the path, it feels like the temperature drops a few degrees.
The canopy of maples and oaks overhead creates a tunnel of green, blocking out most of the sun.
My feet welcome the soft dirt and scattered leaves. They’re so much better than gravel.
Birds call to each other in the branches—chickadees, I think, and maybe a cardinal.
Knox would know. He was always pointing out birds when we were kids, trying to teach me their songs, but I never held onto the knowledge for more than a day.
I always knew he’d be there, loving the way he got to repeat his knowledge for me to hear.
The path slopes down, getting steeper the closer I get to the water. I have to watch out for thick tree roots that snake across the path like veins, and vines of poison ivy growing along the edge of the path.
Finally the trees thin out and the lake comes into full view, dark green and calm.
The morning sun shimmers on the surface, turning certain areas silver.
Across the water, there’s other docks and cottages nestled among the trees.
A pontoon boat sits motionless in the middle of the lake, probably someone fishing for bass.
I kick my sandals off and walk out onto the dock. Its planks are uneven and the wood is sunbleached, but I can imagine so many children jumping off it into the water, or families fishing from the edge.
I walk to the end and sit down, letting my legs dangle. Everything is so still, so quiet.
And I hate it.
Owen should be here with me. He should be cannonballing off this dock, splashing water everywhere, laughing like a goof, and trying to convince me to jump in after him. Or just sitting beside me, his long legs skimming the water’s surface, his warm hand in mine.
But he’s not here.
He’s never going to be here again.
Closing my eyes, I breath in and out, trying to loosen some of the tightness in my chest. This lake holds so many memories.
With Owen and Knox, but also with myself.
Moments I learned who I was, what was important to me.
Memories that had me raging mad, hiding my face in embarrassment, or feeling mind-numbingly happy.
Moments that live with me still.
I couldn’t sleep. The air conditioning was on the fritz and my room was like an oven. On top of that, my mind wouldn’t shut off. I’d been replaying the day in circles. Watching Knox teach some girl he met in town how to waterski, his hands on her waist as he helped her up, his laugh when she fell.
Owen had been there too, of course. Cheering from the dock, offering the girl encouragement when she wiped out, being supportive and nice. Knox was kind of a dick to her, teasing her in his usual Knox way, smirking and showing off.
The girl laughed, blushing, clearly loving the attention from both Aldrich brothers.
And why wouldn’t she? Either was a catch.
Owen with his gorgeous smile and sun-lightened hair, always turning everything into a good time.
And Knox with his lean muscle, and gray eyes that somehow see all the things you try to hide.
They were a package deal that summer, complete opposites that oddly balanced each other out.
I told myself I didn’t care. That Knox could flirt with whoever he wanted.
But I couldn’t sleep.
So I traded my nightshirt for a tank top and cotton shorts and snuck out of the house, walking barefoot down the path to the dock. The lake was black and silver under the full moon and the water was so still it looked like I could walk across it.
I thought I was alone until I saw him.
Knox sat at the end of the dock, dangling his feet in the water. He was still wearing his button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up that he wore to the restaurant we went to for dinner earlier. He didn’t turn around, but I knew he heard me.
“Can’t sleep either?” He sounded tired, his voice rough around the edges.
“It’s too hot.”
“Yeah.”
I should have gone back inside. I stood there thinking about it for a long moment. Being alone with Knox in the middle of the night felt dangerous in ways I couldn’t name…but I sat down beside him anyway, leaving space between us.
We sat in silence for a while. His shoulder was so close to mine I could feel the heat radiating off his skin. I focused on the water, on the way the moonlight made everything look like a dream.
“You know Cassiopeia is right there.” Knox pointed up, before hesitating and dropping his hand. “Nevermind, it’s stupid.”
“It’s not stupid, it’s cool.” I tilted my head back to look. “Which one is it?”
“The W shape. See it?” He shifted closer, and even in the dark I knew his eyes had lit up. “In Greek mythology she was a queen who—” He stopped. “Okay, I know you don’t care about this shit.”
“I didn’t say that.” I kept looking at the stars. “You always assume people don’t want to hear what you’re thinking, or what you’re into.”
He was quiet for a moment, swinging his legs back and forth slowly. “Most people don’t.”
“Well, I’m not most people.” I bumped into his shoulder for emphasis.
“No,” he said quietly. “You’re really not.”
Warmth spread through my chest and I was acutely aware of the spots where our skin touched.
“Want to swim?” he asked, breaking the silence.
“It’s pitch-black out there.”
He turned to look at me, and even in the dim light I could see the challenge in his eyes. “Scared, Thorne?”
My pulse kicked up. “No.”
“Liar.”
Before I could respond, he stood and undid the buttons on his shirt, tossing it aside.
I tried not to stare at his bare chest or at the way the moonlight carved shadows across his stomach and shoulders.
Since he turned eighteen, his body had changed.
He wasn't the lanky kid I grew up with. Then again, I wasn’t the same either.
He unbuttoned his shorts and dropped them, standing there in just his boxers.
“You coming or not?”
I stood on shaky legs. My tank top was thin enough to swim in, but my shorts weren’t. I hesitated, then hooked my thumbs in the waistband and slid them down, hyperaware of Knox watching me.
“Don’t stare,” I muttered.
“Wasn’t planning on it.”
But when I looked up, his eyes were on me. Not leering, just...looking. I had to stop myself from pulling my shorts back on and sprinting back up the path to the house.
He turned and jumped off the dock, disappearing into the black water so quietly, if I wasn’t watching him I’d never have known.
I stood at the edge with my toes curled over the wood. The water looked never-ending, like there could be an entire universe under its depths. During the day, it was just the lake, familiar and safe. But tonight, there was something unsettling about it.
“You know, you could just say you’re scared,” Knox called from the water.
“I’m not scared.”
“Then what are you waiting for? A written invitation?”
“Maybe I’m just enjoying making you wait.”
I could hear the smirk in his voice. “There she is.”
“Fuck you, Knox.”
He laughed, and the sound gave my stomach butterflies. “The water’s so nice, Thorne. Quit stalling and get your ass in here.”
I sucked in a breath, held it, and jumped.
The water was shockingly cold since my body had adjusted to the hot night air. I gasped as I broke the surface, treading water with my hair plastered to my face.
“See? Not so bad.” Knox’s voice came from a spot on my right. “Told you.”
“You’re still an asshole.”
“Yeah, I am, but a smart asshole.”
I scoffed, not wanting to stroke his inflated ego. “Right.”
He laughed and started to swim out toward the middle of the lake. The shore lights got smaller behind us until we were surrounded by darkness and stars. I could barely see Knox beside me, only noticed the occasional splash of his arms cutting through the water.