“Nope.” I fasten my seat belt. “All clear.”
I wait for a moment, half expecting some kind of explanation for the way things ended up at the festival, but he just puts the truck back in gear and drives away. I want to ask about Kate, but I don’t want to seem like it bothers me. After all, if we’re keeping things casual, things like exes shouldn’t matter.
I look around for the first time. “Someone’s been busy,” I tease, noting the clean interior and smudge-free windows. Instead of the usual piles of equipment and snack wrappers, I can actually see the upholstery, and outside, the paintwork is gleaming.
“Not me.” He laughs. “My sisters were being total pains yesterday, so I gave them some chores.”
“Nice!” I pretend to hit him. “Your sibling karma must be ruined.”
“Uh, yeah.” Reeve gives me a grin. “Kind of late for that now.”
We cut around Main Street via a series of densely wooded back roads, heading out of town on a dirt track I’ve never seen. “OK.” Reeve exaggerates looking around at the empty intersection. “Evasive maneuvers complete. We are a go!” I laugh, settling back in my seat as we turn onto the highway and pick up speed. Soon, we’re flying out of Stillwater, warm air rushing past us, and a rock song playing loud from the old, duct-taped stereo.
I prop my bare feet up on the hot dashboard and relax, one arm slung out the open window. I can see that my legs show all the evidence of my summer adventures: the scrape on my knee from painting the back porch, that bruise on my shin from tumbling off the dirt bike. I wonder how long they’ll take to fade when I’m back home.
“So where are you taking me?” I quickly turn to Reeve. He’s wearing Ray-Ban–style shades, looking too cool with one hand lazily on the steering wheel. He glances over at me and grins.
“It’s a surprise.”
“What kind of surprise?”
“The surprising kind!” He laughs, reaching over and taking my hand. Slipping his fingers through mine, they rest together on the seat beside him. I grin and turn back to watch the green valley speed by outside my window.
After driving for about thirty minutes, Reeve turns off the highway onto a small dirt road. We move slowly under looming trees, the track covered in pine needles and leaves. I love the forest here now — at least in daytime. The canopy above us seems to block out the world, sunlight filtering through and making everything around look extra still and peaceful. At last, Reeve pulls off the track and parks. I glance around, seeing nothing but forest.
“Where now?”
“You’ll see.” Slamming his door, Reeve grins at me, teasing. He pulls a cooler from the back of the truck and waits for me to gather my things. Then, taking my free hand, he leads me deeper into the trees. I walk happily beside him, loving how we don’t have to stay alert for Grady to come crashing through the trees at any moment. Out here, we’re completely private.
“How do you know about these places?” I look up, at the pine trees and foliage all around. “I mean, you could live your whole life in the area and not know these spots.”
“I guess that’s the way we like it.” He climbs over a fallen log and waits to guide me over it. “It’s all word-of-mouth. Someone finds a cool place, tells someone else . . . or they don’t. I bet there are places all over the province that only a few people have ever been.”
I remember the view from the mountain, the miles of forest and lakes stretching out below us.
“Anyway, we’re here. . . .” I could swear Reeve looks kind of nervous as he leads me out of the trees, to a clearing by a lake. Only this one is nothing like back in Stillwater.
“Oh, wow,” I breathe, gazing around. The water is deep and blue, fringed with thick forest, but that’s not all: hundreds of flowers line the lake, their flat leaves resting on the water itself and spreading out into the middle of the pool. I drop my bag and walk all the way to the shore. “Are they water lilies?” I peer at the tiny white buds and dark green leaves, just like in that Monet exhibit my mom dragged me to see in New York one time.
Reeve nods. He’s standing by our pile of stuff, his hands bunched in his front pockets, almost as if he’s waiting for my reaction. I practically skip back to him.
“This is amazing!” I tell him. Throwing my arms around his neck, I kiss him in glee. “I can’t believe it, it’s so beautiful!”
“Cool.” Reeve’s face spreads into a smile. “I figured you’d like it here. You brought your camera, right? So, you can take all kinds of photos if you want.”
“I will!” I turn back, amazed at the view. “Is the water OK to swim in?” I start to kick off my sneakers even before he nods.
Stripping down to my bikini, I slowly wade out into the lake. The water is freezing, of course, but I edge out farther, the mud squelching between my toes. I don’t care. All around me, the water lilies float gently on the surface of the water, bobbing as my movement sends hundreds of ripples out across the lake. It’s incredible, but standing in the middle of it all, I’m overcome with a strange sadness, as if I know this is a moment I’ll never get back.
I look around, trying to burn everything into my memory. The hot glare of the sun through the edge of my shade, the gorgeous blanket of flowers lapping gently around me, the way my every step sends clouds of mud billowing in the clear water . . . and Reeve, still watching me from the shore. I exhale a slow, shivering breath.
“Come in!” I yell, forcing aside the sadness, and the thought of that neat print on the calendar back at Susie’s, marking the end to all of this. “The water’s gorgeous!”
We spend hours just lazing by the water that day. Reeve teaches me to skip rocks off the still water, picking out the perfect flat discs and twisting my wrist just right to send them hopping all the way to the middle of the lake. We eat hastily made sandwiches and his mom’s fierce pepper brownies from the cooler, and talk about plans for school and our families until the sun begins to sink lower and the air picks up a low chill.
By the time I make it back to Susie’s (Reeve dropping me off around the bend again to make sure nobody sees), it’s almost six.
“Jenna, have you seen my red — oh, sorry.” Susie walks in without knocking, just as I’m getting changed.
“The red sweater?” I straighten up, in my bikini top and shorts. “I think it was down in the kitchen.”