Page 29
Story: Cam Girl
“Hell yeah I am.”
My mind flickers back to the strange car, the rust bucket on worn tires, but I keep my lips zipped.
“We’ve got the fire going and everything. It’s a beautiful night.”
Aiden grabs a bowl of freshly made sweet potato french fries on our way out. Steam still rises from them.
I grab one of the fries and burn my fingers, scalding my mouth when I toss it up, and not caring about either. “Ah, you’re trying out some new culinary skills, I see.”
I chomp through the steam and potato.
“Oh, something like that.” He grins at me.
Outside, smoke belches from the grill. Three Adirondack chairs ring the fire pit and the small patio is a perfect backdrop for the stillness of the lake and the quaking trees.
Aiden’s right; it’s perfect, just warm enough to hint at the coming months but with a bite in the air that offsets the lightning growing in my veins.
A few sips of beer and I’m already halfway lost.
I drop into one of the chairs with the weight of the day like an albatross around my neck.
“Damn, Doc, you look like hell. You could have taken the time to change.” Soren’s got the trout cleaned and side by side on a stainless steel tray. “You don’t have to wear scrubs all the time.”
“I was too keyed up to change. I wanted to get here as quickly as possible,” I tell him.
Aiden settles on my right, his legs spread wide and his posture relaxed. From this angle, I see the kid he used to be in college—the star football player making waves on the field.
Not much has changed since those days.
Excepteverythinghas.
How much have we gone through since then? Since two students and their TA thought they could take on the world together?
Aiden’s smile is infectious. He holds out his own bottle and I dutifully clink mine to it. “Cheers,” he mutters.
“You should at least grab a shower, Tase. You can borrow some of my clothes. They won’t fit you, but you won’t smell like whatever it is you smell like,” Soren adds.
“You’d know if you ever bothered to get a real job,” I throw back.
He grunts out a laugh. “I have a real job. It’s called real estate investing. See? It’s even in the title. You should try it sometime if you’re ever ready to stitch up your bleeding heart.”
It’s the same joke we constantly toss like a football to each other. And luckily there’s too much history to ever take offense.
Soren had been on an aspiring trajectory before he decided to take a completely different turn into left field, on a fucking whim.
Neither of the cousins wanted the same thing out ofthe life they’d been forced into by family. I got my doctorate and they went on their own paths.
Somehow, we kept in touch. We ended up maintaining our closeness despite everything. And thank god for it because I wasn’t sure who I’d be, or where, without them.
Soren grabs the trout with tongs and sets them on the sizzling tines, the fish skin immediately crackling with the heat. Aiden digs his hand into the fries and pulls out a handful. He raises them to his lips and shoves them in at once.
“How long are you planning to stay this time?” I ask, leaning forward.
Aiden shrugs. “A couple of weeks. I’m not sure I can avoid my duties much longer than that.”
“Speak for yourself,” Soren says. “Spring break doesn’t apply to me. I can be here for as long as I want.”
“As long as your daddy’s money holds out, you mean,” I reply as I reach for my own fry.
My mind flickers back to the strange car, the rust bucket on worn tires, but I keep my lips zipped.
“We’ve got the fire going and everything. It’s a beautiful night.”
Aiden grabs a bowl of freshly made sweet potato french fries on our way out. Steam still rises from them.
I grab one of the fries and burn my fingers, scalding my mouth when I toss it up, and not caring about either. “Ah, you’re trying out some new culinary skills, I see.”
I chomp through the steam and potato.
“Oh, something like that.” He grins at me.
Outside, smoke belches from the grill. Three Adirondack chairs ring the fire pit and the small patio is a perfect backdrop for the stillness of the lake and the quaking trees.
Aiden’s right; it’s perfect, just warm enough to hint at the coming months but with a bite in the air that offsets the lightning growing in my veins.
A few sips of beer and I’m already halfway lost.
I drop into one of the chairs with the weight of the day like an albatross around my neck.
“Damn, Doc, you look like hell. You could have taken the time to change.” Soren’s got the trout cleaned and side by side on a stainless steel tray. “You don’t have to wear scrubs all the time.”
“I was too keyed up to change. I wanted to get here as quickly as possible,” I tell him.
Aiden settles on my right, his legs spread wide and his posture relaxed. From this angle, I see the kid he used to be in college—the star football player making waves on the field.
Not much has changed since those days.
Excepteverythinghas.
How much have we gone through since then? Since two students and their TA thought they could take on the world together?
Aiden’s smile is infectious. He holds out his own bottle and I dutifully clink mine to it. “Cheers,” he mutters.
“You should at least grab a shower, Tase. You can borrow some of my clothes. They won’t fit you, but you won’t smell like whatever it is you smell like,” Soren adds.
“You’d know if you ever bothered to get a real job,” I throw back.
He grunts out a laugh. “I have a real job. It’s called real estate investing. See? It’s even in the title. You should try it sometime if you’re ever ready to stitch up your bleeding heart.”
It’s the same joke we constantly toss like a football to each other. And luckily there’s too much history to ever take offense.
Soren had been on an aspiring trajectory before he decided to take a completely different turn into left field, on a fucking whim.
Neither of the cousins wanted the same thing out ofthe life they’d been forced into by family. I got my doctorate and they went on their own paths.
Somehow, we kept in touch. We ended up maintaining our closeness despite everything. And thank god for it because I wasn’t sure who I’d be, or where, without them.
Soren grabs the trout with tongs and sets them on the sizzling tines, the fish skin immediately crackling with the heat. Aiden digs his hand into the fries and pulls out a handful. He raises them to his lips and shoves them in at once.
“How long are you planning to stay this time?” I ask, leaning forward.
Aiden shrugs. “A couple of weeks. I’m not sure I can avoid my duties much longer than that.”
“Speak for yourself,” Soren says. “Spring break doesn’t apply to me. I can be here for as long as I want.”
“As long as your daddy’s money holds out, you mean,” I reply as I reach for my own fry.
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