Chapter Two
265 days until graduation
Summer is slowly coming to a close, meaning Hagen’s Lake is the most popular place to be all day and night.
I normally have much better things to do than tan on a beach and jump into the water off an old, rickety dock, which holds true for a large majority of the summer. This summer especially since I’ve been focused on college tours and filling out applications for different Universities.
But Winnifred Carter and Eloise Taylor are persuasive, and they refused to let me go all summer without going with them at least once.
My friends have been able to bring bits of peace to my life when I’ve been too stubborn to do it myself. They understand I need it more than I do sometimes, and I’m truly grateful for it.
But that doesn’t change the fact that I waited until the last weekend possible.
Plus, Winnie loves the atmosphere of the lake, and I have conceded that anything that could get Winnifred Carter away from ballet for almost an entire day can’t be that terrible.
I jog down my house’s front porch steps as the girls wave at me from the car. Winnie is driving and agreed to pick both Eloise and me up.
I open the backdoor, jumping in before the car pulls back down my driveway.
“Glad you joined us for once, Gen,” Eloise snides sarcastically from the passenger seat.
“Oh, you know her.” Winnie smiles. “She’s busier than both of us combined.”
I roll my eyes. “Says you, Miss Ballet Prodigy.”
“Don’t pretend like school doesn’t completely consume you, even during the summer, Evie.” Winnie turns off my street and onto the main road.
“Yeah, how many colleges have you toured so far?” Eloise asks.
“A few.” I shrug.
The actual answer is seventeen.
Winnie looks back for a moment. “I thought you were set on Columbia. Are you having second thoughts?”
“Not sure,” I clip. “New York is a little too…close.” The only downside of wanting to go to college far from Connecticut is that all the Ivy Leagues are on the east coast, keeping me here.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve enjoyed the structure of living in Fairwood. Small town leave little room for deviation, and that has always been of consolation to me.
Yet, I’m aware of the fact that my intelligence should not only know the bounds of Fairwood, and to grow into the best version of myself, I need to leave.
“Great, she’s trying to flee,” Eloise says to Winnie, throwing her head back with an exaggerated sigh.
“Do you really blame her?” Winnie replies, making Eloise sigh.
These two girls are my absolute best friends, my twin pillars keeping me standing when I’m in fear of falling, and as sad as the idea of me leaving is, I know that neither of them blame me.
They both know the type of disservice I would be doing myself by staying in a small town like Fairwood.
When we pull into the parking lot of Hagen’s Lake there are already swarms of high schoolers.
The closer we get to the beach the more people I recognize.
Everywhere I look there are kids from Fairwood, almost all of my classmates are here. Most of them are drinking beer from glass bottles, some are playing volleyball in the sand, and the rest are already in the water.
It’s not even noon yet.
“Kids from our school are seriously drinking beer openly in public?” What idiots I scoff as I look toward the girls. “Is this what it looks like every day?”
“No, it’s not usually this packed,” Winnie says. Her and Eloise are already throwing their cover-ups on the blanket they have laid in the sand, leaving them in bikinis. “It’s the most popular night of the year, people will be here all day and all night.”
This is true, considering all the food trucks in the parking lot, and the games of sand volleyball going on that don’t look remotely close to being over. It doesn’t appear people will be leaving anytime soon.
“Come on, let’s get in the water,” Eloise says, pulling on my t-shirt, signaling for me to strip down to my bathing suit.
Her strawberry blonde hair sways with every movement, and her blue eyes are much more prominent in the sunlight.
“Won’t it be a little cold?” I ask sarcastically.
They both look at me in shock before Winnie declares, “that is officially the dumbest thing you’ve ever asked.”
The sun is beating down on us, and it is certainly hot enough to swim. This is a rarity in Connecticut, usually by the time the calendar hits September our days are no longer blistering, and instead only mildly warm.
Sometimes though, on days near the beginning of the month, we’ll get lucky. Today happens to be one of those days.
“Of course it is, because I don’t ask dumb questions,” I say, grinning as I pull my t-shirt over my head, folding it neatly before discarding my shorts.
I hear a whistle from one of the nearby groups of boys. “Looking good, Alderidge!”
My head snaps to the direction of the noise, even though I already recognize the voice.
Standing not even twenty feet away from our blanket is none other than Logan Callaghan, the eldest child of the richest family in Fairwood, and who I consider being one of the best friends I’ve ever had.
All of us grew up together: Logan, Luke, Winnie, Eloise, and me.
Our parents are best friends, since our moms had all gone to Fairwood together. They stayed friends into their adult years, all of them marrying and having children roughly around the same time, making it inevitable that the five of us become inseparable.
On top of Winnie and Logan also being neighbors, Logan’s sister, Mae, and my sister, Gwen, have become as inseparable as us older kids.
But even then, we’re all in the same grade at school with lots of similar classes, causing our paths to cross frequently.
“I’m sure you were just waiting for a show, weren’t you, Callaghan?” I yell back sarcastically.
“You know me too well, Gen!” He smirks.
I flip him off.
By the looks of it, most would assume that Logan is a scumbag and that I hate him for it.
And if anyone were to bring this assumption to my attention I would probably go along with it because I like to push his buttons.
The truth is, Logan Callaghan is the farthest thing from a scumbag—whatever that may be. He respects people, especially women, more than any other person I know (probably because he grew up surrounded by hardass women) and any comments exchanged between us are in genuine fun.
He jogs over, leaving his group of friends behind and revealing his true intentions. “How are you ladies doing today?” He mockingly curtsies once he’s standing in front of us. “Are you staying for the fireworks tonight?”
“I’m not sure if we’ll be staying that late.” I shrug, looking toward the girls, who are lathering themselves in sunscreen.
“Well, you should,” Logan says, “I know it’s past your bedtime and all, but it’s really fucking fun.”
“I’ll think about it,” I reply. “But if you’re the one lighting them off, that may be an issue.”
He feigns offense. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He knows exactly what I mean.
“It should be pretty obvious why I don’t trust you with explosives.”
Eloise cuts in, “L, who’s your friend over there?”
Winnie and I both turn toward the group of boys Logan had left, noticing the one Eloise is talking about.
I’m sure that I’ve never seen him before, which is unusual. Not that I’m the best at remembering names in relation to faces, but I’ve gotten fairly good at recognizing one or the other.
“Oh, that’s Jameson,” he says, confusing me more since I don’t recognize the name.
“That’s all you’re going to tell us?” Eloise scoffs.
“Ladies,” Logan narrows his eyes toward us. “I am not your inside source. If you want to find out everything there is to know about my new friend, then go ask him yourselves.”
“We aren’t asking you for his social security number, jackass. We just want to know what he’s doing here, where he came from,” I tell him.
“Jameson’s staying with me for the school year as a foreign exchange student. He’s from London,” Logan answers.
“So, he’s going to school with us?” Winnie glances between Logan and his new friend.
“Yup,” he replies in a chipper tone. “Well, it’s been nice talking to you ladies, but I should probably head back over.” He points over his shoulder back toward his group of friends.
“We’ll join you,” Eloise says, and I can instantly tell by the look that she gives me this is what she was planning all along; why she asked about Jameson in the first place.
“Great,” He smiles, leading the way across the sand.
“This is a bad idea, El.” I grid through my teeth, dragging my flip-flops through the sand.
She grabs my arm, beginning to drag me along. “Come on, Gen. This is supposed to be fun.”
“If having fun were your intentions, you would not be dragging me over to stand with a group of douchebags,” I tell her pointedly.
“I heard that!” Logan yells, looking back.
“What other motives could I possibly have?” She asks, almost sarcastically. “It’s not like I’m the master of the male species.”
She has a point; Eloise has made it known since freshman year that she was strictly into girls. Therefore, she has no use for boys in any way other than platonic ones.
It isn’t a secret that Eloise’s greatest passion project is my love life, and she is well aware of my hesitation.
It is quite clear as soon as she caught a glimpse of the somewhat attractive English boy, attempting to set him up with me was her priority.
I roll my eyes at her antics. This is such an Eloise thing to do. “This isn’t funny. You know I’m not interested.”
“Not interested in what?” She smirks continuing to pull me along.
A large group of Logan’s friends quickly surround us, including the English one, and all of them are already gawking at either Eloise or Winnie. It’s hard to decipher which though, and I don’t really care to. I’m just glad it’s not me who has their attention. I don’t want it.
“Winnifred.” Noah Sommers nods at her in greeting as he scans over her Dior bikini, which accentuates her slender frame and long blonde hair.
Logan looks over when he hears her name, and we all know why.
Noah Sommers is a known player, like a ‘Willing-to-sleep-with-any-girl-with-a-pulse” type of player.
Partly because he is one of the most attractive boys in our school, but also because he has an incredible sense of charm.
One that Winnie and I refuse to fall for.
And since Winnie is one of Logan’s closest friends, it makes sense for Logan wants to put a divide between her and Noah.
He doesn’t want to see her get hurt. Ever.
I take a step back, opting to stay toward the outskirts of the group, and eventually both Winnie and Eloise do the same.
Standing in a circle, the sand burning my bare feet; the conversations seem to flow easily, except I’m not saying anything.
Usually I choose to not partake in any large group discussions like this one, because I’m too logical to converse as easily as everyone else is right now, but also because most people think I talk as intelligently as I do because I’m trying to hurt their feelings. (I’m not, but I’ve been told that I talk like I am.)
So, to avoid confrontation, I stay quiet.
Until I’m spoken to directly, then my game of silence is over.
“Evie, what did you get on the SAT?” Luke Shepard asks.
“1580,” I say. I know higher than average scores are expected of me, but most of the time people still feel the need to boost my ego, which is entirely unneeded. So, I wait for it to pass.
“Holy shit,” multiple of the boys say.
Knew that was coming.
Slightly to my left, a pair of brown eyes skim over me before making dead eye contact.
It”s Jameson, the English boy. He’s looking at me.
He’s looking at me.
For an extended period, I might add.
At this moment I can’t deny his obvious attractiveness, seeing as he’s a tall, brown-haired, and well-muscled boy. With his amber-colored eyes, and sharp facial features, it’s kind of hard to be unattractive unless your personality sucks.
Looking at him is like staring off the side of a cliff. It feels wrong in a way, like you know it could end badly, yet it’s so captivating you can’t pull your eyes away.
“Evie, are you on Adderall?” I break my gaze away from the Jameson, taking a step back from the cliffside.
“No,” I reply. “I’m not taking anything.” I don’t need to.
“Jameson, isn’t that close to what you got on the SAT?”
I advert my gaze, looking down at my legs, noticing how tan they look because of the hot pink bikini I’m wearing.
“Not quite,” his accent drawls. “I got a 1550.”
My eyes snap back toward him. “You did?”
“Yes, I did.” He looks me right in the eye as he says it, making my skin feel like it’s blistering more than it already had. “It wasn’t too difficult.” He shrugs.
I would ask how that is possible, but that would be hypocritical, coming from someone who got a higher score.
What I truly want to ask is “how is it possible for someone to get that score that isn’t me?”
I stay quiet though, because I know there’s only one answer: He’s almost as smart as I am.
“You know what, I’m going to go swimming,” I tell Eloise and Winnie, already jogging toward the water.
I don’t stop, not giving myself time to think before I’m running into the water until it’s up to my hips.
“Gen, wait!” Eloise is running after me, Winnie close behind.
Eloise dives headfirst into the water behind me.
My minds taken back to the days we all would come here with all our parents, bickering about who would be standing and who would be sitting on shoulders as we played chicken.
Back when those were the only types of things we had to worry about.
“What was that about?” Winnie asks.
I shrug. “I was getting hot.”
“And bothered... or?” Eloise asks as she comes up from underwater. Her blue bikini is covered in flowers and is blending with the water of the lake, which catches my attention.
Winnie laughs, eying me and saying, “oh, I see, you have the hots for the new guy.”
“I think that”s your area of expertise, seeing as you can barely look at Logan without your eyes turning to hearts,” I retort, poking Winnie in the ribs.
“Ah, avoidance. The Genevieve Alderidge Specialty.”
I dunk my head under water, smoothing my long hair back as I come up. “I’m not avoiding anything; I merely do not feel like having this conversation. It is irrelevant.”
“I don’t think it is. I think you find the English boy attractive.”
“And I think you’re digging.” I sigh, already annoyed with where this conversation is heading. “I wouldn’t notice if the English boy is attractive because it doesn’t matter to me anyway.”
I notice his appeal, but I’m being truthful when I say it means nothing.
“Right.” Eloise rolls her eyes. “Because you are just so worried about holding onto your idea that love doesn’t exist.”
She dives back under the water, and Winnie is shooting me a knowing look.
She thinks Eloise is right.
And deep down, maybe I do too.