8. A Small Breakdown #2
“Congratulations,” I said. “You’ve unlocked the full fishing experience.”
She gave me a mock-glare. “You tricked me into meditating, didn’t you?”
“I’d never,” I said, clearly lying.
She rolled her eyes and leaned forward to dip her hand into the lake. “Honestly, I think I’m better off swimming for the fish at this point.”
“Please don’t wrestle a trout. I didn’t sign the waiver for that.”
But she was already standing, stretching like she was warming up for an Olympic dive, her line still bobbing uselessly beside her. I didn’t realize just how close she was to the edge until her foot slipped on the damp wood, her balance pitched forward—
—and with a very undignified squeal, Cassie splashed straight into the lake.
I was on my feet before I could think, boots kicked off, shirt tossed onto the dock as I dove in after her.
The water hit like a surprise wake-up call. Cold, sharp, clean. I surfaced, coughing once, already scanning.
Cassie popped up a few feet away, sputtering and slick with lakeweed, laughing so hard she could barely breathe.
“I’m fine!” she gasped. “I’m—okay, not majestic—but fine.”
I swam to her anyway, because logic didn’t really stand a chance against instinct. “You are the least graceful mermaid I’ve ever seen.”
“Did you really jump in the lake for me?” she groaned, her face a wild mix of gratitude and disbelief as she swept soaked hair from her eyes.
“Absolutely. It’s in the manual. Page three, under ‘When the Damsel Falls in the Lake.’”
With this part of the lake being somewhat shallow, I stood next to her and lifted her up.
She didn’t resist as I looped an arm around her back and under her knees, hoisting her up in the classic damsel-in-distress carry.
The part of me that would’ve normally made a joke went completely silent as I held her in my arms.
Because she was laughing.
Glowing.
Dripping water, cheeks flushed, and absolutely radiant.
“You’re enjoying this,” she accused as I waded us back to shore.
“A little,” I admitted. “You’re very dramatic. It’s entertaining.” Not to mention cute in a way that made my heart pound in my ears.
She flicked water at me. “I slipped.”
“Into the lake.”
“It was an accident.”
“Sure.”
I stepped up onto the grass, still carrying her because, honestly, I wasn’t quite ready to put her down. She didn’t seem in a rush, either.
But when I finally set her on the soft moss at the edge of the lake, she looked up at me with that half-smile of hers and said, a little breathlessly, “You’re ridiculous.”
I was only ridiculous for grinning like a fool.
But as she laughed again and pushed soggy hair off her face, I didn’t care. Because whatever this was—this easy chaos, this new softness between us—I was all in.
Even if it meant getting soaked.
We both stood dripping on the shoreline like two drowned raccoons. Cassie peeled off her jacket, wringing it out with a grimace.
“I’m going to smell like lakeweed for a week.”
“You say that like it’s not the official Everwood fragrance.”
She let out a surprised laugh and tossed her jacket onto a moonlit rock. Her cheeks were pink from the chill, her eyes bright from the dunk, and there was something about the way she stood—barefoot, soaked, and smiling—that made my heart do this odd little stutter-step.
“I can’t believe you jumped in after me,” she said, glancing over.
I shrugged, trying to play it cool despite the very real awareness of her bare arm brushing mine. “You fell in. It was either jump or pretend I didn’t see it and suffer the guilt forever.”
“Or you just really wanted to be a hero,” she teased.
“I’m not that noble. Your splish-splashing was scaring all the fish away.”
She laughed again. “What fish?”
I wrapped a towel from the back seat over her shoulders, pulling it tight and allowing my hold to linger. Her eyes were charged, but hesitant. I let go, allowing her to make the choice.
The air had cooled, but the moment hadn’t.
She sat back down on the edge of the dock, legs dangling just above the rippling water, and after a second, I joined her.
My hand half covering hers. She didn’t pull away, although her side glance let me know she was well aware of the touch.
I inched my hand even further, covering hers with mine.
Neither of us said anything right away. We just sat there, shivering slightly, basking in the weird calm that follows chaos.
Then Cassie spoke, her voice a little more serious. “Thanks for this.”
“You mean for dragging you out in the middle of the night and dunking you in a lake? Although to be perfectly honest, this is probably the most weeknight excitement you’ll find in Everwood, except for the occasional movie on the green.”
She nudged me with her elbow. “No. For pulling me out of my own head. I didn’t realize how far in I’d gotten.”
I nodded, watching the water reflect the moon playing peek-a-boo with the stars. “It’s easier to spiral when everything feels paused.”
“Exactly,” she said. “And this... I needed this.”
“I know,” I said. “But with your impromptu night swim, you might have to invest in another pair of shoes.”
She rolled her eyes, but her smile didn’t waver.
The silence that followed felt like something was shifting, slowly, gently, like the seasons turning without fanfare.
Cassie bumped her shoulder against mine. “You’re not bad at this.”
“At what? Dock rescues? Because I’m pretty sure I’m getting a plaque.”
“Definitely.” She nudged me with her shoulder. “For taking me fishing.”
I smiled. For the next hour or so, we just stayed right there on the dock, holding hands.
And for now, that was enough.