My Favorite Love (The Lakeland Boys Book 1)

by G. L. Snodgrass

  Only these three next to me could be trusted. My heart expanded, thinking about how important they were to me. I would trust them with my life. If it was important, they’d fight to the death for me. Of course, if it wasn’t important, they’d tease the hell out of me.

  “Come on,” Tank said. “A race to the raft and back. Losers have to collect firewood for the night.”

  Four years ago, we’d built the raft and anchored it out fifty yards. It had been our pirate ship. Our raft down the Mississippi. A refuge when the lake got too cold.

  Luke was up and into the water before the rest of us could react. That was okay, he needed a head start to make it interesting. The rest of us were pretty evenly matched.

  The cold water bit at me like a pissed off dog. Sapping the warmth from me so fast my head got light and fuzzy. I shook it off and started digging for the raft. I loved swimming. Liked the way my body felt cutting through the water. Each stroke stretching my muscles. The world fell away, and all I thought about was reaching out and pulling the water towards me.

  As we turned around the raft and started for home, it was neck and neck until Nick started to pull away. Me, being a typical guy, did what any guy would do in the same situation. I reached over and grabbed him around the ankle and pulled him back. Hey. There was nothing in the rules that said we couldn’t.

  He kicked out trying to plant his heel in my face, but I dodged it by swinging wide. Our tussle however, had given Tank the lead he needed. I put my head down, only taking a breath every fourth stroke.

  My lungs began to burn, and my muscles began to ache. The cold had drained my strength, and I could feel myself starting to fall back as Tank put on a final sprint.

  We came out of the water at the same time. I shook my head to get the water out of my eyes as we began the footrace to the end. Both of us knew the finish line was the clubhouse. The first person to touch it won.

  I would have beaten him. It was only twenty yards to the shack, but a movement off to the left caught my attention and sent my heart into overdrive. Amber and Marla stood there, both of their mouths open in surprise.

  I hesitated for a moment. That was all Tank needed as he sprinted forward and slapped our shed with a mighty “Swaaap” sound that echoed through the silent forest.

  He yelled, “Finally, I finally beat you. You dork.”

  The smile on his face was large enough to swallow a barn owl. The man had just achieved a lifelong dream. His smile instantly dropped when he saw who I was staring at.

  One of the first rules of our club back when we were eleven was ‘No Girls.’ Of course, we’d never had to enforce that rule because until recently girls didn’t really seem to care what we did or where we went.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked my little sister, as I swiped the wet hair out of my eyes.

  She was dressed in a white tank top and cutoff jeans. Since when did my sister start looking all grown up? I glanced at Amber and my heart stopped. The girl was perfect with long bare legs ending in red shorts and a yellow top that hugged her small waist, exposing a narrow strip of bare skin above her shorts.

  My mouth went dry, and I had a hard time remembering what I had been thinking about.

  “It’s a free country. You don’t own these woods,” Marla said, sticking her chin out daring me to tell her to go away.

  “Well, hello there,” Nick said, as he came up to stand next to me. I saw both Marla and Amber glance at him, then away.

  “Hey, no girls, remember?” Luke said, as he walked out of the water.

  “Luke,” Nick said “that rule was made when we were young and stupid. I don’t know about you, but I suggest we forget it.”

  I could feel it all slipping away. My world was no longer the same.

  “Maybe we should leave. Come on Marla, let’s go,” Amber said, as she turned to go back down the path.

  My heart stopped. I didn’t want her to leave. I wanted her to stay so I could show her the things we’d made. The rope swing on the cliff across the lake, the raft, the shack. The camp site we’d tailored with tree stumps and cooking fire pit. Most of all I wanted to see her eyes when I showed her the Eagle’s nest at the end of the lake where it spilled over into a small stream.

  “But, what about this food? No way am I leaving it here for them,” Marla said with her hands on her hips, as she nudged a small cooler sitting at her feet.

  “Food?” the four of us said at the same time.

  “Yeah, Mom suggested we make some sandwiches and stuff, and bring them out here for you guys.” Marla shot Amber a look, and I knew she was lying about something. Mom probably didn’t even know her fridge had been raided. It would definitely beat the Doritos and beef jerky we’d brought with us.

  “No way are we delivering this stuff and then turning around.”

  “Whoa,” Tank said. “No one said you had to leave.”

  Marla looked at him and smiled. Once again Tank had come to her rescue.

  Amber glanced to each of us waiting patiently. Her eyebrow rose a millimeter when she came to me. Asking me to make a decision.

  I thought of the case of beer cooling in the lake. Would Marla nark on us? Would Amber? I studied them for a moment and realized it was worth the risk.

  “Since when did we ever follow the rules?” I said.

  Amber smiled, and my world began spinning again.

  Chapter Four

  Amber

  Marla had been right. Bringing food had been a stroke of genius. I hadn’t been too sure about coming all the way out here. Infringing on them. The idea of hiking through the woods to some secret lake had been both terrifying and thrilling at the same time.

  She’d been insistent. Kept repeating how they didn’t own everything and couldn’t dictate what she did and where she went.

  The walk here had been fun and not hard at all. I’d loved every step. The colors and play of light through the trees was fascinating. When we first got to the lake I’d been blown away, the blue was a color I’d never seen before. Layers of difference reflecting the sky while holding its own deep secrets.

  Right here, I could stay here for days and paint something new every day. Then, I saw him come out of the lake.

  There should be a rule. No guy should look that good. When he stood up out of the water to race against Tank, my heart had skipped several beats and couldn’t seem to settle down to a normal rhythm. The guy was a god. Chiseled muscles, wide shoulders, and a laughing grin that screamed how much fun he was having just being him. As if being Jason Turner was the best thing in the world.

  He didn’t see us for a few seconds. For a moment, I was able to observe him in his natural element.

  He moved like a jungle cat. Fast, sure-footed, and smooth. Water cascaded off him like he’d just stepped out of the shower. When he wiped that chunk of wet blond hair out of his eyes, I thought I’d melt right there and then.

  For the first time in my life, I wanted to paint a portrait. I wanted to capture his essence. Graceful movement, quiet observation, and a smile that melted the world. Youth, promise, and potential. He is at the cusp of becoming a man I realized, but looking back on his childhood with love and a sad regret.

  We settled down by the lakes edge. As Marla started handing out food, each of the guys regaled us with tails about what they had built. The adventures they had had.

  Nick stood up and walked to the lake and returned with a six pack of beer. Really, is that what they were into? He caught my look of surprise.

  “It’s only beer. It’s a hot day, and a man likes to have a beer on a hot day,” Nick said, as he pulled one from the plastic loop and gave the remainders to Jason. Nick popped the top and chugged half the can letting out a long sigh and licking his lips as he lowered the can.

  I watched Jason take a can and pass it along. I didn’t think about the right and wrong of underage drinking. I thought, these guys really should put on shirts. It made it hard for a girl to think.

  “You going to
tell Mom and Dad?” Jason asked Marla.

  She bit her lip and shook her head. Jason looked at me, as if waiting for my comment.

  This is what you wanted, Amber, I reminded myself. To be around normal people my own age. To do things that didn’t revolve around my parents. I didn’t have any secrets from my parents I realized. Not one. That didn’t seem right. It was obviously time I started. I shook my head confirming that I would keep their secret.

  First, Luke then Tank, each pulled a can free. Tank looked at the remaining two cans, then shrugged his shoulder and passed them to Marla. She froze, shooting Jason a look. He stared at her for a moment then said, “One.”

  Marla smiled, then took the cans from Tank, and handed me the last one.

  So, this is what they meant when they talked about peer pressure? I thought. Nobody said anything about me having to drink the beer. I honestly don’t think they would have thought less of me, but this was like a bonding moment. I was either one of them, or I wasn’t. My decision completely.

  I opened the can and took a sip. I immediately spit it out to a sharp round of laughter. It tasted like warm moldy bread soaked in lake water. How could anyone ever like this?

  “It grows on you,” Nick said with a smile, as he raised his can in a silent toast before taking another sip.

  The afternoon crawled by, as we sat and talked, soaking up the sun and enjoying the fact that we didn’t have something else to do. Another demand, obligation, or expectation. It was one of those carefree days that I had dreamed about.

  “So, tell me, how did Tank get his nickname? Unless, that’s your real name?” I asked.

  The tips of his ears turned pink as he stared at his hands in his lap. Marla laughed.

  “It’s my fault,” she said. Seeing my confusion, she continued, “The first day of first grade, Mom had spent the morning putting my hair into a long braid. I was wearing this cute red dress, black shoes. I felt so grown up. This was real school. The school my brother went to.”

  Jason smiled at his sister, and I saw the love between them. I felt jealous. I would never know the specialness of having a sibling.

  “It was recess, right after lunch,” Marla continued, “two of the third graders … “

  “Jimmy Clark,” Jason said with a frown.

  “And, Tom Cheavers,” Tank added, his forehead narrowed in a scowl.

  “Well, they started teasing me. Pulling my braid, saying mean things. You know typical stuff. But, I didn’t know kids could be like that. I’d grown up on Lakeland Street where everyone was nice to Mrs. Turner’s kids. Or, they’d have to deal with her. I started crying and yelling for them to leave me alone. I remember being so scared and so ashamed that I was crying. This was my first day of school. What if they didn’t let me come again because I cried? What if they said I wasn’t old enough yet? So of course, I cried more.”

  Her eyes got that faraway look as she thought back to the moment.

  “They pushed me down. I remember looking up just in time to see Henry,” Marla indicated Tank who continued to study his hands. Marla continued, “That was his name then. He barreled into both boys with a flying tackle. He knocked both of them down and stood over them as if he would pulverize them if they thought about moving.”

  “He ran all the way across the school yard before either Nick or I saw what was going on,” Jason said.

  “Mr. Daurty came over and pulled Henry back,” she continued, “he grabbed him by the collar and said, ‘You can’t be plowing into people like that, you’re not a Tank.’”

  Here she stopped, as she smiled at the big boy across the camp site from her.

  “They took him to the principal’s office and his parents were called.”

  “That was okay,” Tank said. “No one ever messed with any of us after that.”

  “Especially, after we got to Jimmy and Tom on the way home,” Luke said with a laugh.

  “So, after that, I started calling him Tank,” she said with a soft smile directed at him.

  “I liked it. I never liked Henry. Even my mom calls me Tank.”

  “Except when she’s mad at you,” Nick said with a laugh, “Then, it’s Henry Louis.”

  The group laughed.

  A sense of longing washed over me. These people had a history, a history I would never know and could never be a part of. They were totally and completely wrapped up in each other’s lives and had been from the very start.

  In New York, you were lucky to know your neighbor and talk to them two or three times a year as you passed each other in the hall.

  After several hours, Marla sighed and said we had to start back before it got dark. I could tell she wasn’t real happy about leaving, but there was no way my parents would let me camp out with a bunch of boys. They might be cool and free thinking, but not that much.

  We gathered our stuff. I looked back at Jason for a moment. Our eyes locked and I had a brief vision of what it would be like to spend the night alone with him in the forest. Wrapped up in each other’s arms. My spine shivered with want and need.

  Calm down girl, I told myself. You don’t know if he’s even interested. Sure, that look says he’s interested, but do you really know? My knowledge of boy’s looks was not very extensive. Do not get all mushy about some guy you just met, I continually reminded myself.

  The walk back seemed different. Away from something instead of towards something new and exciting. We were quiet, Marla was lost in her own world. I was pretty sure it revolved around Tank.

  I didn’t see the guys for a week. Tank and Jason were in football practice all day and too tired at the end of the evening to do anything but sleep. Luke was at his new job, and Nick was off doing whatever Nick did. Knowing him, it probably revolved around a girl or a party or both.

  Marla had been roped into babysitting her two little brothers while her mom worked at the library. The street seemed forlorn and empty. There were other people about, but it wasn’t the same. They weren’t the people I wanted to hang out with. It made me smile, thinking that a few weeks ago I didn’t know anyone that I wanted to hang out with and now there were five people.

  My art called to me, as it always does when I have a quiet moment. I got my sketch pad and tried several different scenes, but nothing worked. I wanted to draw Jason, I realized. My fingers ached to try and capture that chin, those eyes. But, I held back. No, not yet. I needed more, I wasn’t ready.

  I had to turn down the invitation to the Thursday meal because my mom took me to Nordstrom’s in Seattle to go school clothes shopping. I told her I wanted to just go to the local mall, but she wouldn’t listen. Nothing new there. Mom wasn’t big on listening to other people’s opinions.

  The first day of school arrived much quicker than I wanted. My stomach was in complete turmoil as I went through my new clothes for the fifty-eighth time before finally settling on an A-line skirt and a cute top to match. Keep it simple, Amber, it’s only high school.

  Marla met me outside and walked with me to the bus stop. I noticed that her mom had won the argument as to which clothes she would wear. Wisely, I kept my mouth shut.

  “Where’s your brother?” I asked before I could stop myself. It seems my ability to keep quiet was not completely fine-tuned. What would she think? Please do not think I’m interested or anything.

  “He’s driving my dad’s truck. You’d think he could give his little sister a ride, but no! That’s reserved for his friends.” She frowned and shook her head. “We had a big fight about it last night.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said with the appropriate amount of caring. Inside I was sending up a big thank you. At least I’d know someone on the bus. Maybe I should bug my father about getting my driving license. In New York, it hadn’t been an issue. I think it was going to be different here.

  Thirty seconds after getting on the bus I knew I was going to demand that Dad help me get my license. No way was I doing this every day. It felt like I’d stepped into a long yellow coffin that smelled of
leather, cheap perfume, and some unknown smell that reminded me of the subway on a hot summer’s day. Not the kind of place you wanted to spend a lot of time.

  One thing the bus had going for it, it prepared a person for the chaos of school. I hadn’t expected the noise, smell, and churning movement. The hallway was crowded with kids yelling, pushing, and trying to go a dozen different places at the same time.

  In the corner a couple were kissing, his hands rubbing places that shouldn’t be rubbed in public.

  A teacher yelled, “Kimberly, Stanton, quit it and get to class,” then turned to separate two boys pushing each other.

  The amorous couple broke apart, glanced at the teacher. Saw the teacher’s attention elsewhere and resumed. I wanted to watch and see how far things would go but the crowd pushed me along.

  People kept zigging when I zagged. Were there rules? Why didn’t everyone going north use the left side and those going south the right? It would make so much more sense. Instead, it was like being in a school of insane fish, each with their own idea of the right way to do things.

  I looked at Marla, determined to keep her in sight, until I made it to my locker. She was smiling, greeting friends while continuing to move, slipping and sliding through the crowd like a natural athlete. Her body seemed to move without conscious thought.

  As I walked, I checked out what other people were wearing. It ranged from fussy librarian to street corner hooker with an occasional cheerleader uniform. I couldn’t believe how much make-up some of the girls were wearing. My outfit appeared to be in the middle, the nothing special look would fit in, I realized and sighed a quiet thank you.

  When we got to my locker, Marla smiled back at me and said, “It’s worse at lunch.”

  I swallowed hard and tried to hide the fear that was building up inside of me. How had I gotten to sixteen, almost seventeen-years-old without learning how to maneuver my way through a school hallway? It felt as if the walls and roof were about to fall in on me. I had to concentrate on my breathing and kept repeating to myself. ‘You can do this’ - ‘You can do this.'