For the Summer

by Shey Stahl

  My shirt had gotten wet so I took it off and threw it toward my towel.

  “You want your shirt back, Sophie?” You dangled my shirt above my head, teasing me.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you think you can catch me?” You palmed my shirt and ran down the sandbar.

  Austin and Grayden were chasing Ivey into the water. She was laughing, so I took off after you, all the while demanding you give my shirt back.

  When we got close to the water, you stopped, smiling, and then bailed in, my shirt still in your hand. “What’s the matter, sweet Sophie? You scared to get wet?”

  “Give me my shirt, Bensen,” I demanded, trying to cover myself by wrapping my arms around my waist.

  You smirked, mischievously. “I think I’ll keep it.”

  I made a face as I neared you. “Give it back. I only have that one with me.”

  You laughed as if my thinking you would give it back so easily was absurd.

  “You’re not very funny.”

  “Oh, yes I am. I’m very funny.” You smiled, your cheeks glowing a little from the sun. “And sexy.”

  “Nope.” I blushed. “You’re not.”

  “Oh, what do you know? You’re thirteen.” You tossed the wet fabric in the air. It slapped against the water in front of you. “Say please.”

  “Please.”

  “Say it again.” You reached over and touched my cheek and for a brief moment, and I thought you might kiss me. My stomach dropped at the thought.

  “Bensen,” someone said from behind me in an authoritative tone, “give the girl back her shirt.”

  I spun around, coming face to face with a tall man, very obviously your father, Robbie. You looked like him, same eyes and same hair.

  “Dad, that’s Sophie. Ivey’s friend. I’m just messing around with her.”

  “Nice to meet you, sweetie.” He turned, as if he was going to walk away, and you tossed my shirt at me. My sister, Stephanie, wandered by and you threw a glance in her direction as she passed.

  Your dad looked at you and then me again. “Don’t stay out here all night. Some people are trying to sleep and don’t like kids screaming at all hours.”

  You rolled your eyes and flipped off your dad’s retreating figure. Ivey laughed.

  He looked at you, knowing what you did. “Have some fucking respect, Bensen.”

  “Yeah, whatever … Dad,” you said, winking at me, such a typical teenage boy. You were doing it on purpose, a game the two of you seemed to play with one another. You didn’t like to be told what to do, and Robbie, well, he was hell bent on making sure he told you.

  “You little motherfucker!” Robbie stopped, meeting my eyes. “Sorry,” he apologized. I waved him off. After spending my days with you and your family, I was getting used to the cussing. I would’ve lying if I said I hadn’t already been practicing my own.

  “Whatever,” you said, jogging after my sister, Stephanie, and Grayden, who followed as well, all headed to the bonfire blazing four houses down.

  I watched you guys, mostly Stephanie, wondering if I would be like that when I was older. Would I follow guys around like that? Would I want them to tease and flirt, and would I flip my hair and giggle when they did?

  When we got back into the house that night, Ivey and I headed up to her room where I found you had stolen my pillow and blanket. I went to your room to get it back and was met with plenty of teasing from you and the other boys.

  “I don’t know why he’s acting like this,” Ivey said as we brushed our teeth.

  “Because he’s a stupid boy.” Boys were different, but the thought that you had went out of your way to steal my shirt that night and hide my stuff was cute to me.

  Through Ivey, I learned a lot about the Cole family that night. We were up in her room, filled with clothes and make-up she would never wear and music she loved. To think, this was just your summer home; you guys lived in Alpharetta, which I learned was outside of Atlanta, in some half-million dollar home with fancy cars and every toy you could imagine. I couldn’t even comprehend having the luxuries you guys had. I mean, you guys had two houses. My parents could barely afford one.

  Back home in Savannah, I didn’t run with the same crowd as your family. Even if we were to go to the same school, we wouldn’t have hung out. I knew that.

  Our families were different, too. While they both had their own businesses, your dad had his handed down from his father.

  My dad started out with nothing. He and my mom had Shanna when they were in high school and started Kaden Electric when they graduated. My dad was determined to make a name for himself and provide for his family, something my grandpa said he would never do.

  Well, they did, but it didn’t come without work. We didn’t have a fancy house or fancy cars. We lived within our means. I knew Dad saved money, but if we had it, you would have never known looking at our possessions.

  Your family, they had money, and it showed in everything from the homes, cars, and clothes. Boats, vacation homes, expensive jewelry, you name it, you guys had it.

  Despite the differences, it didn’t stop our families from getting along, which was nice because I liked Ivey. And then there was you—the flirty, smart-mouthed boy who seemed so sure of himself, but yet, just as lost as any other teenager when you looked closely enough.

  July 2003

  Your parents invited us over for a party toward the end of July. I wasn’t sure if they were just curious as to why I had spent the majority of the summer at your house, or if they actually liked your parents.

  When we got there, you were sitting on the dock with Brady and Grayden. Sadie and Stephanie came with us, both to see you I assumed. Every time I turned around, they were asking me questions about you. And actually, Shanna came, too. Corey seemed to be having some pre-wedding jitters, or they were fighting, anyhow, she came over.

  I had never been on a houseboat before, but it was pretty cool. The music, our families, it was all something that made that summer so memorable for me.

  What made it even more memorable was the fact that this was the first time my dad warned you to stay away from his daughters. It wasn’t just the first warning, but also the most entertaining.

  I could tell he wanted to say something, words of wisdom he’d been sitting on all summer. When he saw you by yourself at the cooler, he took his chance, excusing himself away from my mom.

  Looking through the cooler, I could feel you watching me. Little glances. Nervous little glances at my dad, too.

  You were right to get nervous around him.

  My dad was standing behind you, his voice clear as day, hands on his hips as he tried to appear relaxed. “Stay away from my girls. That’s your only warning.”

  When he left, you turned toward me, a smirk present. “Wow, your dad’s an asshole.”

  “He’s not that bad.” I rolled my eyes, knowing he was that bad.

  “Uh.” You shifted, gesturing to my dad looking at you with a pointed glare. “He told me to stay away from his daughters.”

  “You might want to listen to him.”

  Your head tipped, eyes squinting as if that was an impossible task. “I don’t listen to anyone.”

  I tried to laugh, but what came out was some weird giggle, and that made you start laughing.

  When you laughed, you covered your mouth, a habit I guessed, but it was funny to me. It had been a while since I had seen you so honest. In front of your friends, you were bossy and full of attitude. They did what you wanted. You set the mood for anyone around you.

  I could easily picture you as a little boy, too; you still had that face. The one that screamed innocence, but with a boyish mischievousness under the crooked smile that let me know you were far from innocent.

  A bunch of us made it over to the lake when our parents started drinking. It was nice to be away from the adults and especially my dad’s watchful eye.

  That night didn’t exactly end well. While we were having fun, you decided I needed to
get in the water and gave me a shove.

  What you didn’t see was my right ankle tucked under the ladder.

  Strangely enough, unlike when I broke my arm last year, I heard the crack before I felt it.

  Not a lot of words were said. Mostly gasping, a couple of screams, but no words.

  Everyone hovered around me, nobody acting, but just watching as I struggled to keep myself above water. I don’t think anyone could figure out what to do or how to react because they weren’t even sure what had happened.

  “What’s wrong?” Ivey asked, her face twisted in pure shock. I think she knew what happened, and she reached for me, trying to help by pulling me back toward the dock where I could hang on. “What hurts? Is it your leg?”

  “My—” I couldn’t even get the words out before my head dipped below the surface again. Trying to tread water with a broken ankle wasn’t going so well.

  “Fuck …” With one hand on the dock and the other wrapped around my waist, you took a hold of me and pulled me against your chest. Needing the support, I scrambled to wrap my arms around your neck, cringing in pain. “I think she broke her leg. Shit, are you okay?” Your head dipped forward trying to access my face for any indication I wasn’t.

  Everyone seemed to scramble then. Ivey called out to our parents, and my dad came down and helped me out of the water. As he was carrying me away to take me to the hospital, I snuck a glance back at you.

  Your look paralyzed me. How a boy of fifteen could have a stare like that seemed strange to me. I could feel your anxiety. You felt bad. But just before I was far enough away, you winked.

  At the hospital it was confirmed I had broken two bones in my ankle. The next day they casted it, half way up my calf, and I was back at the lake. Only now there was pretty much nothing to do.

  When I thought about what I hoped to experience during my summer at the lake, it certainly wasn’t a broken ankle. But, on the other hand, I had a good stock of pain pills. And you.

  The next day we were on Aunt Megs’s dock. I had my right leg propped up by beach towels, my left one dangling in the water. You were next to me, glaring at Grayden every time he came by on the jet ski and sprayed water up at me and I complained about him getting my cast wet.

  “What’s his problem?” I asked, mostly to myself. You looked over at me, handing over another strawberry Jolly Rancher, a peace offering for breaking my ankle.

  Maybe.

  “Grayden is a dick. He’s just that way.” You weren’t going to offer any excuses for his behavior, and frankly I was glad you didn’t. It seemed the only person Grayden listened to besides Jesser was you, but that didn’t mean you were going to tell him how to act.

  You took my iPod and started scrolling through my music. It made me slightly nervous that you could see all my songs—like a glimpse into me I wasn’t ready to share. If anything, you’d know my obsession with The White Stripes and OutKast.

  “What did you guys do last night after I left?” I asked, watching Ivey on the other jet ski, trying to knock Grayden off his.

  “You mean after my dad yelled at me for breaking your ankle?” You rolled your eyes with a snort of annoyance.

  “You didn’t break it,” I said, kind of chuckling. “Okay, well, you did.”

  “There was a party up the lake.” You seemed less than interested in it, but your tone was off. I thought you might be upset, but maybe it was just because you broke my ankle. “Went there. Shanna was there.”

  I nodded, not thinking much about it.

  “I’m sorry about your ankle,” you said, not making eye contact. I didn’t know it was hooked on the steps.” Still scrolling through my iPod, I noticed you had created a playlist for me: Sweet Sophie. On it was a mix of Tim McGraw and The Marshall Tucker Band, your favorites.

  “You should be. It hurts really bad!” I cringed, holding my knee as if in excruciating pain. “Really bad.”

  You rolled your eyes, sighing, and then pointed to the ground. “Look, over there.”

  “At what?” I looked toward the lake to see that you were pointing elsewhere.

  “That dead bug.” It was squished in the mud where the water slipped up the wet grass.

  “Yeah, so?”

  “It’s my ego. You killed it.”

  “It’s okay. You’re—” I was just about to say something else, maybe tease you a little, when I heard yelling coming from inside. “I’ll be right back.”

  You helped me up, and I hobbled my way toward the house.

  I walked in, the door slammed behind me when I hit it with my crutch. “Hey guys.” My greeting fell on blank stares. “What’s wrong, Shanna?”

  “Nothing, Sophie.” Shanna took the sleeve of her black hoodie and wiped her tears from her cheeks. “Everything is fine.”

  It was a lie.

  There wasn’t much said by anyone, but I knew, even at my age, that something was wrong when I saw the hole in the wall and Shanna sitting on the floor with her arms wrapped around her legs, pulled tightly against her chest. Mascara ran down her face creating a painted picture of hurt and regret.

  Corey sat across from her, his knuckles bloody, hands shaking, his head hung in a mixture of anger and shame. In another outburst of anger, his legs kicked out, revealing he wasn’t at ease just yet.

  Shanna looked up at me, warning with a glance to get lost. When I didn’t listen, her head tipped to the door, another reminder it was none of my business.

  I did as she wanted and made my way back out to the dock where you were still sitting. I handed you a strawberry popsicle and my crutches, and then sat beside you.

  “You brought me a popsicle?” You seemed surprised.

  “Yeah, so?”

  “You’re kind of adorable, Sophie.” You smirked, almost amused.

  “Shut up, or I’ll stab you with my crutch,” I said, biting my bottom lip, tasting the sugar from the strawberry. “My sister and Corey got in a fight.”

  Your mood suddenly shifted as you slowly peeled back the white plastic wrapper on the popsicle. “Oh yeah?”

  I nodded.

  You ran your hand through your hair, in an almost nervous gesture. “Why are they getting married anyway?”

  “They’re not now. At least that’s what I’ve gathered from the slamming door and ‘Wedding’s off’ I heard him yell. They’ve been together since they were kids. Seemed like it was supposed to be that way for them, you know?”

  “Have you ever had a boyfriend, Sophie?” you asked, expertly changing the subject. Your forehead creased in deep concentration.

  “No.” Then I got brave. “What about you?”

  “No. I’ve never had a boyfriend.”

  I laughed. “I meant girlfriend. Have you?”

  “No.”

  “Ever?” I realized I was fidgeting with my hair and hands. It was ridiculous that just your presence made me so insane I couldn’t even focus on talking. “Or just not right now?”

  “Just not right now.” You shifted your foot, and your leg touched mine. Neither of us moved away.

  “Have you ever had one?”

  “Don’t be so greedy. I’m not that interesting.”

  You were interesting to me, though, and the more we interacted, the more curious I became. Tilting your head, you looked over at me when the silence fell, and I could tell you understood exactly how I was feeling. You may not have been the youngest of five, but you had your own set of expectations. Expectations you never wanted.

  “I think you’re interesting.”

  You lifted your chin, your eyebrows knitted together, looking at me. “Don’t say that. You don’t know what you’re sayin’.”

  We were silent for another few minutes before I asked about baseball. “What position do you play?”

  You smiled, one side higher than the other as you unwrapped another Jolly Rancher and handed it to me. “Left field.” And though you weren’t completely looking my direction, I knew your attention was on me as opposed to your sister an
d your boys on the jet skis whipping around us. “What about you? You play, right?”

  I nodded, placing the sweet candy in my mouth. “Yeah, I play third base.”

  Just as you were about to ask another question, Grayden splashed us again when he came by the dock. This time it pissed you off. “Fuck Grayden, stop it! Sophie can’t get her fucking leg wet!”

  Grayden glanced over his shoulder, rolling his eyes, and then took off in the other direction with Ivey. He didn’t come by again, though.

  It was just like he wanted to test you as far as he could, but once you told him to knock it off, he listened.

  “You can go with them if you want. I don’t need you to babysit me.”

  You looked over at me, another smile that was higher on one side, but my eyes caught yours, so clear, so blue, shadowed by dark lashes and that golden hair. “I’d rather be here with you, pretty girl.”

  August 2003

  You looked at me with a stranger’s eye that summer. That was the best way I could describe what it was you did for me. Despite the amount of time we’d spent together that summer, I didn’t really know you, but somehow, you saw me clearly when no one else did. I didn’t know why I said that, even if it was true. I felt like I didn’t know about a lot of things lately.

  A lot changed that summer for both Shanna and me. I didn’t know what Shanna had done, but whatever it was, Corey wasn’t about to forgive her. He called off the wedding, and she went on a trip to France with her best friend. She came back in late October with a tattoo on her lower back and her lip pierced, saying she was dating a guy named Sheldon. Dad was pissed.

  What changed for me?

  It was subtle that first summer, but something did change. I was no longer the girl who was just the little sister, never allowed much freedom and usually pushed aside for the issues her sisters had. When I was with you and Ivey, I never felt that way, for different reasons. She was teaching me what it was like to have a best friend, and you, well, you may have been just a flirt that summer, but you were the first boy who paid any mind to me and not my sisters.