“There are ways.”
He nods in my periphery and sighs like he’s about to say something really shitty when the water at our feet begins to ripple and wave, coming in at rougher intervals, and then we hear the sound of a boat drop into a lower gear. I think we both see her at the same time. She’s golden-tan, raven haired, and wearing one of the smallest pink bikinis I’ve seen in a really long time. That’s saying something, because my bedroom has a view of one of the student apartment pools off campus.
The wind is making her hair fly everywhere, and she lifts her sunglasses to the top of her head to secure her tresses like a headband then offers a friendly smile and wave as she continues on to the dock to our left.
Cline is speechless as I look up at his face, suppressing the urge to reach over and close his mouth for him.
“Did your entire life just flash before your eyes? Wedding, babies, white picket fence?” I ask and hold back a smile as he blinks his way back into reality.
“What? No. It was more like topless, in a tent, on her back.”
“You’re disgusting.”
His eyes meet mine and he holds my gaze as he speaks the next words so that they’ll hit me straight in the gut. “Every guy does it. Ask Elliot how many times he’s closed his eyes and pictured you naked recently.”
I turn and walk away before he says anything else, my throat suddenly tight and stomach twisted with worry. It’s possible he’s right, but it doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t have to mean anything.
The bathroom looms before me, and I hurry inside like it’s my only safe place, some sort of dirty salvation in the woods where I can have some peace and quiet. But I know better, because no matter how far I run, I can never outrun myself. I have the loudest voice I know, even when I’m completely silent.
The ocean’s salt is still sticking to me, and there’s sand in between my toes when I walk into one of the stalls. I stand there for a minute, trying to breathe through my nose and form a plan on how we’ll get out to the rocks so that I can jump like Wendy had. So I can feel the exhilaration of the drop into the water. She talked about the freedom of the fall, and even though I’m terrified of heights, I would do this in her honor. Just to feel a flicker of what she might have experienced.
There’s a creak and then the sound of the main door being slammed shut. A shuffling of feet through the water on the floor alerts me to someone else in the bathroom, and just when I start to hold my breath and my heartbeat gets louder in my ears, I hear the click clack of flip flops on the floor, and I know it’s not one of the guys coming to find me. It’s another camper.
Of course it is.
I exhale and turn around, lifting my foot to flush the toilet so I don’t seem like some kind of weirdo, and let the commode noise die down before I reach for the door handle. There’s a huge colorful butterfly sculpture attached to the yellowed tile up by the screened windows, and I pause for a moment, wondering who would put that much effort into decorating a restroom before the sound of the other person washing their hands brings me back to reality.
Gaining my composure, I step out and head toward the sinks when I notice that the other occupant of the bathroom is the girl from the boat. She’s got a towel wrapped around her chest, her hair thrown into a ponytail, and her sunglasses perched on top of her head again. She smiles at me from the mirror’s reflection.
“Hi.”
“Hey,” I say and turn the water on to wash nothing from my hands. When I’m done, I reach for a paper towel, but she hands me one instead.
“September.”
“What?” I ask, leaning back to look her over. Her cheeks are sunburnt, and her bright green eyes are a little red so I’m wondering if she’s high or if it’s the lake water.
“I’m September. What’s your name?” She extends a slender hand my way, and I blush as I realize that she’s just being nice and that this is probably how my mom did shit back in the day. Just talked to people. It takes a few drinks for me to get this friendly. This girl is offering up her hand like she’s ready to be best friends.
“Audrey. I saw you come by on your boat.”
She grins. “It’s a rental. I’ve only got it for another day. Are you in the lot next to the little red tent?”
“Yeah, how did you know?”
“We’re neighbors for a couple more nights.” She turns to her reflection in the mirror again and presses the pink spots beneath her eyes. “These are gonna hurt like a bitch once the sun goes down. I probably won’t get any sleep at all.”
“One of the guys I’m with snores like an eighty-year-old man who forgot to plug in his CPAP machine, so you probably won’t get any sleep anyway. My apologies in advance.”
Her laugh is loud and genuine, and her smile reflects in her eyes. But the sound also bounces all along the walls, across the tile, and with it comes the sound of fluttering.