Sue hummed. “I think he wants to make sure he can pull you out if he needs to,” she said, squeezing my shoulder.
On the morning of the swim, I made my way down to the water, Mom and Dad following with mugs of coffee and an old-school camera. When Sam came down to the dock, I walked over in my bare feet, holding my towel and goggles.
“Today’s the day. How are you feeling?” Sam asked from the boat when I padded onto the dock.
“Good, actually. I can do this.” I beamed and threw my towel in with him.
“Good, good,” he muttered, checking around the boat for something. He seemed . . . nervous.
“How are you feeling?” I asked. He looked up at me and scrunched his nose.
“I know you’ll do great, but I gotta admit I’m a little worried if something goes wrong.” I hadn’t heard Sam sound panicked before. But today he was panicked. I stepped down into the boat.
“The water’s calm, you know CPR, you have an extra life jacket as well as a life preserver, there’s a whistle in the boat to call for help, not that you’ll need it since we have an audience.” I pointed up to where my parents had joined Charlie and Sue on the deck, and waved at them.
“We’re rooting for you, Percy,” Sue called down.
“And,” I continued, “I’m an excellent swimmer. There’s nothing to worry about.” Sam took a deep breath. He looked a bit pale. I wrapped my finger around his bracelet. “I swear, okay?”
“You’re right,” he sighed. “Just remember to take a break if you need to—you can always float for a bit.”
I patted him on the shoulder. “So, should we do this thing?”
“Let’s,” Sam said. “I’d wish you luck, but you don’t need it.”
Once I was in the water, I pulled my goggles on, gave Sam a thumbs-up, and then turned my attention to the far shore—a small, rocky beach was my target destination. I took three deep breaths, then pushed off from the lake bottom with my feet and set off in a steady front crawl, my arms and feet working in tandem to propel me forward. I didn’t rush my strokes, and soon the rhythm became almost automatic, my body taking over from my mind. I could see the side of the boat when I tilted my head for air, but I didn’t pay it much attention. I was doing it! I was swimming across the lake. My lake. With Sam beside me. A rush of pride ran through me, powering me on and distracting me from the burning in my legs and the ache in my neck. I kept going, slowing down when I needed to catch my breath.
I switched to breaststrokes for several minutes to relieve the tension building in my shoulders, then resumed the crawl. At times, I could hear Sam cheering me on, but I had no idea what he was saying. Every so often I’d raise a thumbs-up in his direction to let him know I was okay.
The closer I got, the stiffer my limbs began to feel. The ache in my neck and shoulders grew intensely, and I struggled to keep my focus on my breathing. I clenched my jaw against the pain, but I didn’t stop. I knew I wouldn’t. I was going to make it. And when I did, I pulled my body up on the sandy shore, flung my goggles aside, and lay with my head on my hands, my legs still in the water, breathing fire through my lungs. I didn’t even hear Sam pull the boat up on the beach—didn’t notice him until he was crouched beside me with his hand on my back.
“Percy, are you okay?” He shook me gently, but I couldn’t move. It was like my body was covered by the lead blanket they make you wear for an X-ray. Sam’s voice was suddenly right in my ear. “Percy? Percy? Let me know if you’re okay.” I turned my head to him and opened one eye. He was inches away, his face lined with worry.
“Mmmm,” I groaned. “Need to lie here.”
Sam let out an enormous breath, and his expression transformed to glee. “Percy, you did it! You actually did it! You were amazing!” Words kept tumbling from his mouth, but I struggled to comprehend them. I felt delirious. “I can’t believe how you just kept going and going, with no breaks. You were like some kind of machine!” He was wearing the most gigantic smile. Sam only seemed to get better and better looking, like he was growing into himself, and when he smiled like that, it was completely disarming. He is pretty. I found myself smiling at the realization.
“Did you just say that I’m pretty?” Sam asked, laughing.
Oh god, I must have said that bit out loud.
“You must really be out of it.” He took off his shirt and lay down beside me with his lower half in the water, his hand on my back. He smelled like sun and sweat. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply.
“I like how you smell, too,” I whispered, but this time he didn’t respond.
After about five minutes or five hours, Sam announced that we should probably head back so no one worried. I slowly crawled to my hands and knees and, with Sam’s help, made it into the boat on legs that wobbled as though they were filled with lake water Jell-O. “Drink this,” he ordered, passing me a blue Gatorade and wrapping a towel around me. Once I’d had a few gulps, a smile burst across his face again. “I’m so proud of you,” he said.
“Told you she was a swimmer,” Charlie said to Sam as he pulled me out of the boat, giving my shoulder a squeeze.
“She really is,” Sam replied. The smile seemed permanently attached to his face, so much bigger and more open than the lopsided half grin he usually wore. There was an assembly line of hugs when I got out of the boat. First Mom (“You looked great out there, honey”), then Dad (“Didn’t know you had it in you, kiddo”), and finally Sue, who squeezed me tightest of all. I was an inch or so taller than her now, and she felt soft and small. She held on to my hands when we pulled away.
“You’re an awesome kid, you know that?” Her pale blue eyes crinkled at the corners. “Let’s get some food in you. I’m making breakfast.”
To this day, I don’t think I’ve ever eaten as much bacon as I did that morning. My parents had gone back to the cottage, but Sue made enough food to feed ten people. She cooked Canadian and regular bacon, and the boys watched with fascinated stares as I dug into piece after piece, along with scrambled eggs, toast, and fried tomato.
At the end of the meal, Sue looked each of us in the eye, and said, “I’m so impressed by each of you this summer. You’re really growing up. Charlie, you’ve been such a help in the kitchen, and, Sam, I’m grateful that you’re working with me now, too. I don’t know what I’d do without my boys.” She said this with total conviction, her voice steady despite the sentiment.
“You’d probably chain some other poor teenager to the dishwasher,” Charlie replied.
Sue laughed. “Absolutely. Hard work is good for the soul. And, Percy,” she continued, “it takes a lot of dedication to do what you did today—not to mention winning that writing prize of yours. I’m as proud as if you were my own daughter.” She patted my hand, then went back to eating her breakfast, as though she hadn’t just given me the greatest compliment I’d ever received from a grown-up. When I looked over at Sam, he was beaming.
It was the perfect end to summer.
Hi Percy,
I know Thanksgiving was just this weekend (still pretty grossed out by how Delilah drooled over Charlie, by the way), but guess what? Mom is going to let me take New Year’s Eve off, so we can spend it hanging out.
Sam
Sam,
Delilah thinks Charlie is cute, but don’t worry, she has a crush on her cousin’s best friend. She’s even forcing me to go on a double date with them, so she’ll probably forget all about Charlie. Jealous?
Mom found an old fondue set at a yard sale, and is doing a ’70s-themed New Year’s dinner. I hope you like melted cheese.
Percy
Percy,
What kind of terrible person doesn’t like melted cheese?
I don’t like Delilah like that if that’s what you mean. Have you met her cousin before?
Sam
Sam,
I haven’t met Delilah’s cousin yet. He’s in 12th grade like Charlie, but he goes to a different school. His name is Buckley!!! But everyone calls him Mason because that’s his last name, and I guess he doesn’t like Buckley. Who would?
Countdown to NYE is on!
Percy
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