Page 21 of Puck Your Friend

I stop a few feet away, giving her space. “You’re over here all alone.”

She gives a small smile. “Doug’s a control freak about his shots. I’m just here in case he can’t line one up. Until we can do interviews.”

A few yards away, Doug adjusts his camera, angling for a better shot of the drills. Frankie shifts her weight, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

The pull towards her twists tighter.

I breathe in deeply. She smells like a Beta. My instincts tell me I’ve missed something important.

I don’t know if it’s her or just me getting caught up in the past. All I want is for things to go back to how they were that last summer.

11years ago…(age 15)

The basketball bounces off the backboard, and Frankie grabs it before I can try. She moves like a tiny tornado. Fast, wild, impossible to stop. Faster than anyone I’ve played with recently, and it’s been two weeks of constant games in one sport or another. She dominates at all of them despite her size.

I plant my feet and try to cut her off. “You gonna pass, or are you scared I’ll steal it?”

Frankie spins away from me, grinning. “You’re the one down by two. Maybe catch up first.”

The court’s cracked in places. Weeds push through the thinning cement. It’s one of the older courts near the back trail.

Ford, Logan, and Jace are at archery, something neither of us wanted to do again after last summer; I was terrible at it and Frankie finds it boring. So we came here instead for a little one on one.

She dribbles low, weaving around my attempt to block, and I’m forced to pivot and watch her feet to figure out what she might do next.

She fakes right, then turns with her back towards me as she goes to shoot. I react without thinking, stepping up to cut her off. I reach around to grab the ball. Instead, my arms wrap around her waist. Not the ball.

Her back presses flush to my chest with my hands still on her stomach.

I freeze. I didn’t mean to get this close.

She turns to say something, twisting in my arms, but stops when our noses nearly touch.

We’re close enough I can feel her breath against my lips. There’s flecks of gold in her big brown eyes.

A long beat passes between us, and for the briefest of seconds, I want to pull her closer and brush my lips against hers. Instead, I step back and raise my hands.

Frankie swallows hard and straightens. The ball rolls on the ground by her feet. She glances away and tugs at the collar of her shirt. “Dang it’s hot out today. Want to go swimming?”

I nod. “Yeah. Th-that sounds good. Th-they’ll know where t-to look if they can’t find us.”

Kill me.

Of all the times for my stutter to come back with a vengeance, it has to be now? I’ve gone a few days without stumbling over my words. Even if a kiss had been on the table, I doubt it still is.

We leave the ball on the court for the next people and head toward the path, glancing around before we duck under the STAFF ONLY sign.

In the last four years, not a single camp counselor has ever found us back here. They don’t seem to check it at all. Probably forgot about it, we haven’t found a reason for it to be off limits, other than they can’t see it from the lifeguard tower, and it’s too far away for them to reach us if they had to. We’re all strong swimmers, so nothing has ever happened.

The trail winds through thick trees and uneven ground that opens into the hidden edge of the lake. A rough slope of packed dirt, scattered rocks, and thick grass line the shore. The old oak leans out over the water. The lake glints in the sun, inviting us to dive in and cool off.

While here, it feels like the rest of the camp doesn’t exist. Our hideaway from everything else. As long as we’re back in time for meals and bunk count, the camp counselors never realize when we’re not around. Not with the sheer amount of campers who come here.

I peel off my shirt and unfasten the bracelet from my wrist. I’ve worn it every day since she gave it to me, kept it dry and take care of it. I want it to last for as long as possible. I set it on a flat rock, out of the sun.

She does the same, folding her shorts and shirt, before stepping up to the shore. The black tankini hugs her sides with a teal band that cuts across her middle.

It shows a bit of midriff and makes my brain flash to the 5K mud race at the start of summer. I hurry to follow her, before I can think about that more and how it felt when she let me lift her for the wall.