On the Lake

I met an old friend and her cousin at my favorite summer spot in the Pocono Mountains. It was my summer home. Here I would go canoeing in the summer, run along the beach and meet strangers, and make close friends. It was during this summer I met someone who I dearly love, though perhaps not as romantic as the prompt asks for. I was (and am still) someone who believes in staying close to friends from my time. And the person in question was the cousin of a friend. My friend’s name was Christine, and her cousin’s name was Amelia. I, of course, am your narrator, Jaclyn.

My friend and I went to the same elementary school. Our dads had similar jobs, and by sheer coincidence, her parents had rented a home in the mountains for the summer. Now, I didn’t exactly envy Christine, but others did. — my friend and I were both funny people, full of the twisted medical humor and stress of girls who had nothing to worry about in life. My friend met up with me in the daytime. Shortly after texting her, I discovered she was in the area, and so knowingly I went to meet her at her summer rental.

She had already told me she wasn't happy to be at the lake house, missing her home and friends in New York. I was less unhappy about the situation as I was there willingly, and my mom and I resolved to stay up there for a couple of days, rather than weeks. I did not really know whether it was worth spending time up there, but the view was so nice and the events fun, so I had a somewhat positive opinion of the place.

Now my friend’s cousin was someone who I had texted and met several times on the internet. We both had an interest in the same webcomic, so always texting about it and writing some verses together, we were close enough. I had found some solace in her company since I moved away from my home when I was younger. As time went by, our interests diverged, but even today I text her every couple of months for some updates on her life. This all lead to an exciting meeting between us — I did not know what she was like in person. Was she just as silly or entertaining? Was she as poetic, full of japery and such?

It was that fateful night that we met. Even though maybe not strangers in the night under the full moon, during the fateful Fourth of July we spent some days together, independently. Though now I think back to it and wonder if I missed some statements about freedom and breaking away from a king, mostly I think of what fun we had.

See, my house was on the lakeshore, so we would go out day and night, canoeing to the beach or pool. I familiarized them with the water, then had a blast. It was cringy teen shit for sure, being the sort of thing you would do if you were sick of the conversation and each other.

Mostly speaking, my friend wanted to jump out of the canoe while the fireworks were going off. I was happy to do so, as the fireworks were beautiful and would last for about fifteen minutes. So she jumped, and with the fireworks going off overhead, she landed with a splash.

Then I tipped us over, and we had a great time rowing our canoe and oars back to shore. Later on, after we did our flips into the water and had some conversations about body hair, she told me I didn’t need to capsize us, but I just smiled and smiled. 

So that was the fun summer day we had together, though we were not romantic or strangers in the night.

Since this story is too short to publish in its current state, I will post four hundred extra words of nonsense here instead.

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