"Kiss me, and you will see how important I am."
~Sylvia Plath
➳♀♁➳
Every year since I'd met the Creevy's, Memorial Day was spent at their cottage on Wayne's Lake. They invited Lina and I, our families, and whoever else Senator Creevy needed to woo to his side. We'd go boating, tubing, and swimming. We'd lay out and tan, play volleyball on the beach, or search surrounding cottages for cute boys.
Memorial Day reminded me of the hotdogs we cooked on the grill and the fireworks Cora's dad would launch into the sky. It was Cora's favorite holiday, because as long as the cottage was filled with people her dad had to impress, he stayed nice. For a few days, it was like she had an actual father.
This year, however, Senator Creevy and his wife had to attend a conference out of state. Cora wasn't going to let that ruin her weekend, though, and asked if she could have a few friends up at the cottage to celebrate alone.
Her father said no, naturally.
So Cora told me to throw some things in a bag and get in the car - we were going to do it anyway.
And I was really looking forward to going, even if it was against the Master of the House's wishes. The emotional breakdown from the week before had been quite draining, and I'd spent as much time with my family as possible in the days after. We went to Molly's favorite restaurant, I took her to see "Cars 3," and we went out for way too much ice cream. And although I was happy for some family time, especially after realizing that my brother was leaving in less than a month, a weekend at Cora's cottage wasn't something I was going to turn down.
I was ready for a relaxing couple of days, laying out in my bikini, drama free.
➳♀♁➳
My duffel bag swings against my legs as I lug it down the stairs and into the living room of my house. Cora and Lina look up when I come into view, each giving me wide grins. Cora's already wearing her bikini, a cherry red triangle top with matching bottoms, with a see-through, knit coverup dress overtop. Lina's wearing a flowery, flowy sundress and a big floppy hat.
I look down at my running shorts and "Happy Camper" t-shirt and grimace.
"I hope you brought your sexiest bikini, girlfriend," Lina hoots, throwing on a pair of sunglasses, "because that milkshake's gonna bring all the boys tonight!"
I roll my eyes and laugh. I loved camping. Ever since I was little I'd gone on trips with my dad and brother, sleeping in a tent in the woods, the chirping of crickets and buzzing of mosquitos lulling me to sleep. Cora and Lina despised that sort of camping, and much preferred staying in Cora's three story cottage with king sized beds and stocked refrigerator.
I packed t-shirts and leggings and they dressed like they were competing in a fashion show.
"Let's get the show on the road!" Cora says, throwing her hands up. "Scott and Brandon are waiting in their car to follow us up there."
Scott was Lina's two-year boyfriend, but Brandon was a name I didn't recognize.
When Lina saw my confusion, she commented, "Brandon is Cora's new lover boy."
I frown. "Cora, you didn't tell me you were seeing someone."
She gives me a slow smile. "You were busy."
I try not to be hurt by the statement. I didn't think I'd been that busy. Oliver certainly wasn't taking up that much time in my life that I could've been ignoring my friends... right?
Or had I been inadvertently distancing myself from Cora and Lina, too distracted by a boy of my own?
"Sorry," I just say, forcing a smile onto my face. "So tell me about him. When did you meet?"
Cora stares at me for a second, hands fiddling with the lace of her dress, before her lips turn up in a slow smile. "I saw him at the beach, looking like a flawless Roman sculpture - like the ones I saw on that family trip to Italy last year. And I swear to god his abs were glistening -"
"She's got it bad," Lina smirks. We both laugh.
It's nice to see Cora happy, I think.
"Well," Cora says, "shall we get a move on?"
I hike the handle of my bag onto my shoulder and head towards the door. "I'll call you when I get there, mom!" I yell behind me as I follow my friends outside.
"I love you," she calls from the kitchen.
I yell it back and close the door, running to where my friends are already seated in the car. I hop in and we drive.
Later, we're on the highway, zipping past town after town, trees dancing past us as we fly down the road. I lower the window from my spot in the back seat, sticking my head out to feel the wind on my face.
It almost feels like I'm back on Oliver's motorcycle.
"Skylar!" Cora yells over the wind rushing into the car from the open window.
"What?" I yell back, finger pressing down the button to close the window. It slides shut, silencing the wind.
"Park went on a date last weekend," Cora says.
Something inside of me feels tight. My brows lace themselves together, my expression confused, along with another emotion I try not to name.
"He what?" I ask quickly, before straightening my face, fingers attached to the hem of my shirt, pulling. "I mean, who was the lucky gal?"
Cora smirks, fingers tapping on the steering wheel. "I know. Who would've thought the day would come when dear old Parky would move on?"
"Move on?" I ask. A thread comes loose from the fabric of my tshirt.
Lina laughs. "Please, Skylar. He's been in love with you since you met, you've just been too stubborn to admit it."
I frown. "He is not in love with me," I start to say, but the car rounds a turn and suddenly we're in front of a large cottage made of white brick.
"Here, bitches!" Cora yells, sliding on her sunglasses and exiting the car. The other car carrying Scott and Brandon slides in behind ours.
The driveway of the large vacation home cuts up a hill, through looming trees, and wraps around the house to the back, where there's a garage, pool house, and infinity pool. The cottage sits higher than any other on the lake, per Mr. Creevy's request. It looks like something out of the Great Gatsby.
"Who's ready to part-tay!" Squeals Lina as she jumps into her boyfriends arms.
Suddenly I don't feel like such a Happy Camper.
The room Lina, Cora and I had always shared when we came up to the lake together was on the top floor. It had three twin beds, each under a tall window that allowed the sunlight to flutter in when morning came. We shared secrets in those beds, all huddled up in our comforters and giggles. We'd tell ghost stories or talk about boys, who at first had cooties, but then gave us First-Kiss stories to tell as we got older. What happened at the cottage stayed at the cottage, but I carried the happy memories with me wherever I went.
As our group steps up to the elaborate front door of the house, however, I realize that this trip was going to be different. As we step through the doorway, a grand staircase comes into view. It's steps are of white marble that climb to the ceiling, the railings carved into swirls and geographic designs.
"This house is gonna host a sick-ass party tomorrow night," Scott comments, looking around the place.
"Yeah, it's gonna be wild," Cora agrees, hopping up and down excitedly. "I hope everyone's ready to get plastered!"
I laugh, hike my bag more firmly on my shoulder, and begin to ascend the staircase. "To the top floor, then," I grin.
Lina and Cora both insistently giggle from behind me. "Actually," Cora says slowly, "I think I'm going to share a room with my hot boy toy."
I try not to let my face fall. Turning to Lina, I raise my brows expectedly.
She looks at the ground. "Uh, Scott and I were going to take the guest suite on the second floor."
Both boys simply stand, the group of four awaiting my response. I suddenly feel very left out, like my friends were at an event that I wasn't invited to. The corners of my mouth slip downward, and I turn my face so they don't see my disappointment.
"No, that's fine," I say, forcing a bright smile onto my face. "But I call the master bedroom."
After unpacking quickly, I change into a swimsuit and run downstairs. Birds can be heard chirping outside and the sun shining through the windows makes me long to be on the water.
"Let's get moving, people!" I yell throughout the house. I pass the living room, with its large television and plus, white furniture. I skip past the study, a room lined floor to ceiling with bookshelves, a desk seated in the center. The floor changes from carpet to wood floor and suddenly I'm in the kitchen.
"Oh cute suit!" Lina compliments from her seat on the counter. The kitchen is a string of counters winding around the walls, with two refrigerators on opposite sides of the room, a large stove, and multiple sinks. There's a dark stone oven in the corner where the chefs would make homemade pizza and bread for the family. It's any professional chef's dream.
"Yes, very patriotic," comments Scott, pointing at my American flag triangle top and fiery red bottoms.
I'd spent all of high school with Scott, and him and Lina had been dating for years, but I often felt that I still didn't know him very well. He wasn't the type of guy to talk about himself, or to ask many questions about others. He didn't keep to himself, per say, but his conversations usually revolved around baseball or lacrosse instead of anything deeper.
I'd had Pre Calculus and Chemistry with him last year, but neither class contained any of his jock friends so he often sat in the back, earphones in and hood covering his shaggy brown hair.
Now he stood in the kitchen, slicing up a watermelon, smile on his face and eyes trained on Lina. They really were a perfect couple.
"Well I was hoping we could get the boat in ASAP," I said, winding around the counter to grab a fresh slice of watermelon. Some juice dribbled down my chin as I took a bite, and I wiped it with the back of my hand.
"Yeah," Lina says, fingers playing with her brassy red braids. "I think Cora's just waiting for Park to get here. Which should be any moment now-"
"I'm here!" yells a voice from the other room, and the slam of the front door radiates through the house.
"Park!" I yell automatically, dropping my forgotten watermelon onto the counter and sprinting out of the kitchen. I fly down the hall and around the stairs and leap into the arms of my best friend. "It feels like I haven't seen you in ages."
He wraps two strong arms around me and tucks my head to his chest. He smells of fresh soap and citrus.
I smile into his chest, because his presence is so welcomed. He tips the scale and with him in front of me, I somehow don't feel like the odd one out anymore, no longer a third wheel.
He takes my hand and twirls me. I laugh when I stop spinning, dizzy. His face is warm, open, a smile displayed on his lips and a carefree look in his eyes to match. He shakes his dirty blonde hair, wet from a shower taken not long before his arrival, then tugs me back down the hall to the kitchen.
"Who's ready for a day of fun?"
We spend the day racing around the lake on the Creevy's cherry red speedboat, skiing, tubing, and pushing each other in the water. The sun shines down, warming us for a good part of the day, only dimming as evening approaches. Lina tries her hand at kneeboarding and fails so miserably that the entire boat erupts in explosive laughter.
"It's not funny," she pouts as she climbs up the ladder and into the boat. "The stupid board hit me in the shin."
"Not as hard as you hit the water after that fall," Park jokes at the steering wheel, barely able to get the words out over his laughter.
Lina punches him in the arm and collapses into the seat next to her boyfriend.
"I'm next," I announce, hopping from my cushioned seat and buckling on a life jacket. I pause on the back of the boat, turning to Park. "Give me something hard."
Park, a glint in his eyes, mutters, "Oh I'll give you something hard," before Cora slaps him, yelling a sharp, "Parker James, just drive the boat!"
With a giggle, I jump in the water. It's calm on the surface and my body cuts through it like a warm knife through butter. The water is cooler than I expected, a cold pressure surrounding me, relieving me from the hot sun. Every sound is muffled and everything around me hums, the lake itself seeming to emit a soothing song. It's peaceful, though I'm only under for a moment before my life jacket pulls me towards the surface.
I get settled onto the board, grab the rope, and yell, "Go!"
➳♀♁➳
We head back to the house when the sun starts to fall. By seven o'clock, several of us have showered, grabbed a bite to eat, and separate to partake in our own activities.
I'm running a brush through my wet curls when Park enters the room. "You scored the master bedroom - nice," he says with a wink.
I set the brush down on the white dresser in front of me, looking at Park's figure in the mirror. "And I hear you're still sleeping under the stairs."
He grins and steps around the king size bed in the middle of the room, lazily falling onto the bedcover and sprawling out amongst the pillows. "What can I say? Old habits die hard."
Since he was a young boy, Park had always slept beneath the stairs at the grand old cottage. There were rooms to spare, but one day he hauled a mattress into the crowded closet under the steps and slept like a baby until morning. He's been scared of the lightning and ran to his parents room - the one we stood in now - for comfort, only to be rejected and told to go back to sleep. He didn't like the room he shared with Cora on the top level of the house, so he settled for under the stairs.
"Well I, on the other hand," I say, turning to face Park, "have this entire king-size bed to myself." I laugh excitedly and skip towards the bed, prop my leg up on the space next to Park, and flip over him to the other side. The cushions squeak below me like frantic mice, then adjust to my weight. Rolling over to my stomach, I stare at Park expectedly.
"What?" He asks after a moment. His mouth, always shaped into a signature smirk, shifts to form a smile.
"Cora says you went on a date," I say, reading his face as I speak.
He immediately rolls his eyes, lifting a hand back to settle behind his head. "I wouldn't call it a date, per say. A girl expressed interest and I took her out to placate her."
Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. "And since when has Park Creevy ever cared about 'placating' a girl?" My fingers play with the tassels on a pillow. "Please, you never do anything unless you want to - you must like her."
Park exhales heavily, his chest falling like a tired accordion. "She was okay, a bit too prissy for my liking."
"Then why'd you take her out?" I ask. I'm not sure why I care so much, but suddenly the details seem important. "What'd you do?"
He gives me a side stare. "Why do you care?" His tone isn't hostile, simply inquiring. I look away. "You've never cared about any of my other dates before."
I'm silent. I shrug, because it's all I can manage. The truth is I don't know why I care. I could pretend that my questions were mere small talk, but that would be lying to both of us. For some reason, I care. I care who he took out, what they did. Was she nice? Pretty? Did they kiss as the night came to a close?
"You're my friend, Park," I say bluntly. "I'm interested in your life is all."
He manages a smile. "Well I won't be seeing her again, if it means anything to you." I can't help but notice the wave of relief that floods my chest. "She was boring, only talked about her sick poodle."
I laugh and plop down so my head is on a pillow and I'm on my side, facing Park. Our bodies are inches away, close enough that I feel his body heat. "Thanks for driving the boat today," I say.
He nods, lips pursed in thought. I study his face, the way his nose slopes, the peaks and valleys of his mouth. Anyone staring wouldn't be able to doubt Park's beauty. It wasn't simply a handsome face, it was a beautiful one, smooth and defined.
His eyes flit towards me and catch my stare. His eyes sparkle.
Suddenly he whispers, so softly I barely hear. "At the beach, that day," he starts, his lips barely moving. My eyes fixate on them, absorbing every word. "Why did you turn away?"
I'm transported back to that day. I don't need reminding to conjure up the memory. I can still feel the breeze in my hair, the sand underfoot. He means the kiss at the edge of the lake. The kiss that didn't happen because I turned away.
Why did I turn away? He asks.
"I don't know," I whisper.
Because I don't.
"Would you turn away again?" He asks, face soft, nearly emotionless except for a longing look in his eyes.
I blink. His eyes pull me in. I break contact and find I'm staring at his lips. "I don't know," I answer again.
And softly, oh so softly, he leans in. My eyes flutter closed, automatically. It's as light as a feather dancing on my lips, our kiss. It lasts a moment, just a peck. Park delivers to me his heart in that moment, but a peck is all he allows himself. It's like falling into a bed of satin; like a deep sigh at the end of a long day. It's short, but sweet. Unexpected, but not unwanted. Time slows down and after, I'm left blinking through a haze.
Park disappears from the room before I can even process what happened. I lay alone on the giant bedspread, chest rising softly, fingers to my lips.
My emotions are a tangled web that I don't have time to sort through. I pick at the pieces in my head, trying to decide what I'm feeling.
Still lost in thought, I startle when a figure appears in the doorway, colorful and loud.
"Skylar!" Cora sings loudly. "I brought you a surprise!"
I sit up on the bed, confused and disoriented. My best friend's face is alive with excitement. I wonder for a moment how she would respond to me kissing her brother just minutes before her arrival.
I throw away the thought. Perhaps no one would find out.
Cora claps, bringing my attention back to her. Although I try to focus, my lips practically buzz with the memory of Park. "Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls," Cora says in a deep, faux announcer voice. "Please address your attention to the doorway as I proudly present-" she reaches outside, grabs, pulls, and another figure appears "- Oliver Manning!"
My heart lurches while my stomach drops.
Shit.