Chapter 16 #2
One night toward the end of that summer, it was as close as I ever got to telling him how I felt.
It was an evening when neither of us could track down Hollis or Axel, so, carrying fishing poles and a few leftover corncobs from dinner that we could dismantle to use as bait, we headed to one of our favorite spots — a big rock through the trees that we loved to fish from.
It was out of earshot of our parents. They were back at the house entertaining our friend Savannah’s mom and dad.
Their family owned the only lodge in town and lived in Cedar Shores year-round.
Her parents had boated across the lake for dinner while Savannah finished her double shift at the front desk of the lodge.
After getting all the corn kernels stolen by fish, none of which actually stayed on the line, Rhett and I abandoned checking the poles and just sat side by side instead.
Dragging our toes back and forth, cutting two lines in the surface of the water, just two little jet streams shooting out behind our feet.
Shoulders touching, I remember how the warmth of his body managed to reach the side of my arm.
I thought I might keel over when he scooted close enough to nudge against my side with his elbow at random times, like teenage boys figuring out how to be men so often do.
And I’d nudged back. Electrified by the touch in that way, you feel everything so deeply when it comes to your first taste of love.
My brain fired off every what-if scenario while the fireflies came out, a small pack of them blinking off and on above the water while a pair of water skippers skated across the glassy surface, and over the small speed bumps lobbing out across the water from our feet.
It was everything I’d ever written into a fantasy, and I could hear every drip and drop of water that moved across the stillness of our view. Rhett and I froze each time we saw a fish tail jump, or a bird swooping to grab their dinner from the lake.
I saw my first bald eagle taking off with a long trout wiggling between its talons, and he’d nudged me again, pointing.
By that point, I was damn near nauseous from the number of flips my stomach was doing with each touch between us, smiling like a heartsick fool over the tanned skin of our shoulders.
The idea of a kiss seemed impossible, but I still allowed myself to become breathless at the thought of it. Praying my entire teenage fantasy might play out, finally, right there before he was supposed to leave for basic training two days later.
It was the moment I’d always hoped for in the perfect setting beside what I’d come to think of as our lake. At that moment, I was willing to risk Hollis’ temper or Axel’s protective threats, just to get one secret kiss before he left. Something no one else ever had to know about.
But then he’d said something horrible that blew the whole thing up.
“I can’t believe this is the second-to-last night we’ll ever be here again.”
Then he’d smiled at me, like he hadn’t just blindsided my entire existence.
“What?” I’d sat up straighter, no longer leaning back against my hands, the rock beneath me still heated from a long day in the sun.
“I won’t be back next summer, or any other summers from now on. You know that.”
“No, I don’t know that,” I shot back. “Where do you plan to spend summer breaks when you come back?”
“The SEALs don’t do summer breaks. I’ll be training basically nonstop for the next two or three years, if I’m lucky, before deployment.”
“If you’re lucky? Not coming back here is lucky?” If he’d thrown a fist at my stomach, it would have felt the same way.
He gazed out at the water where a dozen or so ducks were swimming by in a line, like they did every evening, until I nudged him hard enough that he looked at me instead.
Our expressions couldn’t have been more opposite — he looked just as resolved as I was confused.
The sweet butterflies I’d been feeling just a moment before were all shot down and dying, replaced with a sickening wave of disappointment coming in fast and hard. His going away party was the next day, and he’d be leaving the morning after that.
This time, apparently, for good.
“The military isn’t like college. They don’t do summer breaks when you’re in year-round training like this. I thought you knew that?”
“Why would I know that?” I asked.
He shrugged like it was no big deal. “I thought everybody knew that.”
All I could do was stare at him, mouth open, until he finally smiled, like he might have found it cute how upset I looked. Which only upset me more.
“We’ll see each other again though. I’m sure of it. I already miss it here. I’m just not sure if our families will ever work out the timing again.”
I’d shifted my eyes out to the water, not really seeing anything in front of me. If he already missed it here, why did he feel the need to leave? And to go so far? And to do something so dangerous?
Just like that, the lake looked like a big, glassy puddle of water.
The magic it held only ten seconds before, gone.
Now all I could see were the pockets of mud spilling into the sand and tall grasses that collected and pooled near the shore.
It was the most beautiful place in the whole world to me, the place I’d always known I’d see him in. But it wouldn’t be that anymore.
After this summer, it’d be just another lake.
The sunsets and sunrises would always be beautiful, but they wouldn’t have him anymore, which changed everything.
“You don’t have to miss it,” I said, feeling strangled by what I’d just realized. “Hollis and I will be back next year. You can just take a break or—”
“But, I’m not, Bailey.” This time, all the laughter in his voice was gone, replaced by the deep, more serious tone of the man he was becoming.
“Maybe I will one day, but it’s not going to be every summer like it has been.
” It was one gut punch after the next, my whole summer tradition suddenly locked in flames.
Some kids looked forward to Christmas, but this was my favorite time of the whole year.
“I can’t believe I didn’t know . . .” I trailed off, feeling young and dumb, showing off every bit of our one-year age difference.
“But I got something,” he said. Then he turned, shifting on the rock to face me, and rolled up the tee shirt sleeve on his far shoulder, the one I hadn’t been nudging with mine all evening. There, beneath his sleeve, was a small, rectangular bandage.
He peeled the edges back, slowly, and the skin looked mildly tender underneath.
My jaw dropped. “You got a tattoo?”
It looked like something I’d seen in my geography class a few times, except I had no idea what this particular set of numbers printed across his arm meant.
“It’s the latitude and longitude of this place,” he said, pointing to each one. “If you look on a map, these numbers would lead you to Cedar Shores. This exact spot. Axel and I both got them in town earlier. Don’t tell your parents yet. I haven’t told mine either.”
My mind began swimming.
“You got matching tattoos?” I stuttered on the idea.
I was shocked that my brother had gotten the same thing without telling me.
“I won’t be here next summer, but now I have this to take it with me.
And when you turn eighteen next year, you should get one, too.
You and Hollis both.” He side-eyed me then, shifting to face the water as he rolled his sleeve back down.
“It’s cutting it a little close with training starting in a few weeks, but I figure since Ax and I are driving across the country to get to our bases, it’ll give us both time to heal before everything starts up. ”
Twisting at the waist and launching myself sideways, I hugged him without warning, careful not to grab his shoulder.
I wished more than anything that Hollis and I could be their third and fourth wheels.
Tattooed, and watching the country fly by from the back seat, going anywhere with them, as long as it was all of us, together.
I felt my heart crack.
And I never forgot the way it tore through me.
When he drove away two days later, I knew I’d been right. Cedar Shores was never going to be the same place I craved to come back to, and I’ve been homesick for it ever since. Missing that place like you miss a memory, even when I went back.
It’s the kind of thing you don’t realize until adulthood.
That places on the map, places you can still go, don’t exist anymore. Not because they change, but because you do. Or the people who made them magical aren’t there when you go back.
And this trip will be our first time arriving back there together since we left all those years ago.
I settle in, listening to the latest set of lyrics Rhett is butchering from the driver’s seat. Watching him sing, half-terrified that the magic I felt as a kid won’t be waiting for us once we get there. And that it might feel like a second heartbreak all over again.
“What?” he asks, tapping my knee three times to beat. I love it when he does that. “What’s that sigh about?”
“Hmm?” I must have sighed louder than I thought between songs. “Nothing. I was just thinking about that last time we were there.”
He grins, like he might suspect why. “Basic training summer. Right?”
I crack a smile, but keep my eyes focused on the road ahead.
Suddenly, I pull the neck of my cardigan and drop it wide to expose the top of my left shoulder blade, then lean forward, making sure he can see what’s beneath it while he drives.
It’s the matching coordinates inked on my own shoulder, a tattoo just like his, except the numbers are written vertically down my shoulder blade, instead of across my bicep like his.
Hollis and I had gotten them to match the following summer when we turned eighteen, missing our brothers more than we’d ever been able to admit.
“I never showed you this in real life,” I tell him, grinning. “What do you think?”