I sighed. “He sounds like a douche.”
“Ummmmmm, you just cursed!” Jenna sing-songed behind me.
“No I didn’t.”
“Yes you did.”
“Didn’t.”
“Did.”
“Douche is not a curse word.”
“UMMMMM, YOU JUST DID IT AGAIN.” She cackled with giggles, a weird hiccuping sound. I deliberately splashed her with my paddle and she squealed. “HEY, YOU SPLASHED ME.” She splashed me back.
“Oi.”
“Can’t get me.”
“Yes, I ruddy well can.”
And we both dolloped water onto each other.
Kyle called behind him. “Amber? Can I remind you you’re supposed to be a responsible adult?”
“When have adults ever behaved responsibly?” I twisted and grinned at Jenna. We both nodded and simultaneously aimed our paddles at Kyle, dowsing him too.
“You stinkers!”
He aimed back, and by the time we’d all calmed down we were totally soaked through. I laughed myself out, feeling good. About how the sun was already drying my clothes, about how it looked bouncing off the ripples, about the way the trees were so dense and old that they seemed to whisper secrets, about how Kyle had looked at me when I soaked him.
“Come on,” Kyle straightened his paddle. “We’re almost at the other side.”
We pushed on, the trees getting nearer, the whoosh of our paddles stronger. Then, with an unceremonious thud, our kayak hit the bank of the lake.
“We did it,” I cheered, and Kyle and Jenna whooped with me.
Kyle turned round again. “Whoever would’ve thought it was possible?”
“Oi, I just wasn’t trained properly,” I replied. “And kayaking isn’t a key life skill. I’m good at useful things, like making a roux.”
“A what?”
“A roux. It’s the base of any white sauce, or soup. It’s when you cook flour and butter together, a roux.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m starting to realize this is quite common.”
I stuck my tongue out. “Roux are more useful than kayaks, I promise you.”
“You’re a good cook then?”
I nodded. “Do you know what a roux is?” I called behind to Jenna, not breaking eye-contact with Kyle.
“Of course,” she answered solemnly. “You need a good roux for macaroni and cheese.”
“See,” I said, triumphantly. “I bet the guy who climbed Mount Everest didn’t know how to make a roux.”
Kyle held a smile and then turned to paddle the kayak back the opposite way.
“Right, ready to head back? We’ve got swimming soon, in the lake to cool off.”
“Yay!” Jenna yelled. “Can I show you my dive? Can I? Can I? I can dive REALLY good.”
“Sure,” we both replied.
We got back into the flow of paddling – the pier unbecoming a dot, and growing into a blob, then a bigger blob. Other kayaks joined us, all heading in the same direction. I spotted Russ, his feet up on the front of his boat, his arms crossed behind his head, relaxing as two kids paddled frantically behind him.
“That’s it,” Russ called, half-asleep. “You’re doing great.” The kids seemed to find it funny.
“Hey,” I yelled, over the water. “Child labour is illegal in the States, you know?”
Russ jerked up and almost fell out. He saw it was me and covered his eyes with his hands to shield them from the sun. “From what I’ve seen today,” he called back, “you are in no position to give lectures on the art of paddling.”
Whinnie’s boat was just in front of us. Charlie Brown was still paddling madly, like a wind-up toy on MDMA. The boats began to thump together, forming a disorderly queue up to the pier. Bumface Kevin was already there, reaching down with his big strong arms to yank children out, lavishing them with praise.
“You go, well done you, you are so smart, what a team!”
I turned round to Jenna. “You have fun?”
She nodded. “It was adequate.”
And both Kyle and I shook the boat with our laughter.
We waited to dock our kayak. It was only when we’d stopped paddling that I realized my hands were red raw, but I didn’t care. I felt all light – from chatting to the girls, from them helping me understand Melody, from learning how to kayak…
Speaking of Melody, she seemed to be waiting for Kyle on the dock. She’d rolled up her camp T-shirt into a minitop and rested against the wooden poles, one tanned leg cocked perfectly to accentuate her lean angular muscles.
We lifted Jenna from the boat first, and she ran in the direction of the beach. Then Kevin pulled me up onto the dock, then Kyle.
I hung back, waiting for Whinnie. Trying not to watch Kyle and Melody together. But not really trying.
She manoeuvred Kyle away down the length of the pier. I watched them stop, and she tucked a stray piece of his golden hair behind his ear.
I didn’t hear it all, but I did hear her say…
…“I had such a good time last night.”
And my stupid heart hurt, and all the good-feeling went again.
Like it always does. When you mistakenly let people in.
SITUATIONS THAT ARE DESTINED TO FAIL:
Trying to talk to your friends about boys
+
A past record of not being very understanding about that topic
Fifteen
From: LongTallAmber
To: EvieFilmGal
Subject: Death to cheerleaders
Hello again you sexy gorgeous friends of mine.
How’s the British summer going? I looked on the BBC site here (it’s so weird, guys, there are ADVERTS on it in America) and…well…yes…sorry about the rain? I feel most smug here in the burning sunshine while you’re being pissed on from grand heights.
Thanks so much for the last Spinster Meeting! It really cheered me up. The FCP girl is so much easier to handle now I have an academic-but-essentially-cruel word for her in my head. She’s inevitably got together with the Prom King guy, because life is so ridiculously clichéd sometimes I wonder why we bother living it when nothing is ever a surprise any more… NOT BITTER. Definitely not bitter.
Love you all, miss you loads
Ax
PS Lottie, no, I won’t send you photos of my sunburn. I told you, it’s gone down!
PPS Did you know that canoes and kayaks aren’t the same thing?
From: EvieFilmGal
To: LongTallAmber
Subject: RE Death to cheerleaders
Hello tall one,
How did you fit in a canoe? Are there photos? Please say there are photos.
I’m sorry about the whole cheerleader/Prom King debacle. Do you have any way of watching films out there? If so, I prescribe The Breakfast Club. And another film called Heathers. Honestly though, it’s not worth it. Don’t waste time mooning after guys who can’t see how great you are. Do you not remember my whole first term of college with Guy?
How are things with your mum anyway? You went all stiff on us when we asked last. LET IT OUT. Again, remember my whole first term at college?
Learn from my mistakes, lovey.
We’re all okay over here in Blighty, though the rain is crazy. Crazier than me even. We should totally section this rain.
Evie x
From: LongTallAmber
To: EvieFilmGal
Subject: RE RE Death to cheerleaders
Thanks for your email, love. Sorry it’s taken a few days to get back to you. I’ve been knee-deep in all sorts of forced-fun unpleasantries. If I have to see another campfire again after this summer, I may have to MAKE THE WHOLE WORLD INTO A CAMPFIRE AND BURN EVERYTHING.