“Say something to me you wouldn’t’ve said before.”
“Okay. On the bed so I can fuck you, Lake.”
“Say another,” she pleaded.
“I want to feel your hands on me.”
“That right there.” Lydia pointed at me, turning her head to her husband while keeping her eyes on me. “What did I tell you, Gare?”
My collar got a little tight, and I felt like I was back at camp again, the police calling me away in front of all those kids. “What?” I asked.
“You get this look when Lake’s name comes up. You always have.” Lydia held the magazine to her chest. “A look you never get about anything else in your life. Or anyone.”
I chugged the rest of my beer and tossed the empty bottle with the rest of the garbage. It didn’t surprise me that I got a look. I knew that about myself. Charles had noticed it. Tiffany, too. I was pretty sure Lake’s mom also knew.
“I always had this theory,” Lydia said. “I think you have a teeny tiny thing for Lake.”
Years ago, I would’ve taken my secret to the grave, but tonight, amongst friends, as an older and wiser man, I just shrugged. “What do you want me to say?”
“Ah-ha! So it’s true!” When she puffed up, she had to catch the bag of marshmallows before it slid off her lap. “I have a nose for these things.”
Gary looked the definition of perplexed, his eyebrows knitting as he whipped his head between Lydia and me. “How teeny is tiny?” Gary asked.
“I’m not talking about this,” I grumbled.
“Is this . . . for real?” Gary asked, drawing out the question. He was high enough to look fucked up, but I knew that wouldn’t get me out of this. I’d seen him hold his own during a political debate after smoking way more than he had tonight.
“No,” I said. “It’s not that simple . . .” I sat forward as Lydia passed me a stick with a marshmallow. I fumbled, nearly dropping it in the fire. “There’s no crush.”
“Who said anything about a crush?” Lydia asked.
I stuck the marshmallow in the fire. “You know what I meant.”
“Dude.” Gary shook his head. “You’re so flustered right now.”
“I’m not flustered.”
“Your marshmallow is in flames,” he pointed out, laughing too loudly.
I blew it out, but the thing was nearly black.
“Was it like that at camp? Did you have a thing for her then?” Gary asked. “You dirty bastard. Flirting with one of the counselors.”
I was sweating. The beer made my thoughts hazy. I ran a hand through my hair and checked to make sure Henry was still asleep. Luckily he was, because he didn’t need to hear this. He was a cop, and a good family man. “It’s not like that,” I said. “I wasn’t . . . I didn’t . . .” Except I was, and I did. I couldn’t deny it, because I couldn’t lie to them. I’d gotten way too close to the line with Lake when I was supposed to be the adult.
“Dude, relax,” Gary said. “She was a sixteen-year-old hot blonde. You think I never flirted with one of the junior counselors?”
I expected Lydia to smack him, but she just rolled her eyes. “You creepy old man.”
“What?” Gary said. “I’m just human. You have any idea what I was up to at sixteen?”
“Spare us,” I said.
“I would’ve put my dick in anyone that let me, but nobody did. Lydia, on the other hand, slept with a college professor.”
I raised my eyebrows at her and teased, “Did he at least give you an ‘A’?”
“She was in high school!” Gary added.
“I told you that in confidence.” Lydia threw a marshmallow at him, then looked at me. “My girlfriends and I had fake IDs and daddy issues. It was bound to happen.”
“You weren’t eighteen?” I asked.
“Seventeen. He was late-twenties.” She stuck her tongue out at Gary. “To this day, it was the best screw of my life.”
Gary grabbed the arm of her chair and pulled her over in the grass. “Lies.”
She wrinkled her nose, then leaned in for a kiss. “Okay, fine. Maybe second best.”
I didn’t know what to think. Lydia didn’t seem fucked up. In fact, her easy intimacy with Gary was making me even more nostalgic than usual. Sometimes I’d sit out here alone and remember those nights at camp. Watching Lake across the campfire. Teaching her the constellations. Walking around the grounds with her in the kind of silence you could only find in the mountains.
The truck, the lake, the stars.
I missed holding Lake in my arms as much as I missed being inside her and kissing her. It occurred to me that I was Lake’s college professor. Someone else would tease her about me the way Gary did about Lydia’s shameful secret.
“You ever see the officers who arrested you out here?” Henry asked.