Chapter 2
It Wasn’t the Dancing
“Don’t you think we are a little too old for this game?” Luke asked John as they sat in the small wooden rowboat. For the past few summers, the boys had passed many days on the lake pretending to be pirates, but they were now in their teen years. Wasn’t it time to stop acting like children?
They stopped rowing. “This is not a game!” John joked. “I am exploring my career options. I think a pirate could make an interesting occupation, but I will not know for sure until I test it.” As always, his sandy blonde hair stuck up in every direction. Both boys had abandoned their coats and neckties and sat in just their shirts and trousers. Sometimes, when he really wanted to get into the character, John would tie his belt around his head, but this particular pair of pants were slightly too large. Although that made them perfect pirate attire, it unfortunately meant they would not stay up without the belt to fasten them.
“You do not have a career choice!” Luke rolled his eyes. “You are stuck as an English lord, just like me.” Though, only yesterday, the baron had been thinking similar things. Of course, he had been considering true careers, not piracy.
“Argh, an English lord ye’ say.” John did his best buccaneer accent, holding out his hands. “Empty ye’r pockets. Them lordies are always goods f’er a shilling.”
“A shilling?” Luke questioned. “I don’t think you have a future in robbery if you are only looking for shillings.” Both boys laughed.
“Fine,” John relented, “what do you want to do?”
“I don’t know.”What were twelve-year-old boys supposed to do?“Talk?”
“Talk?!” John did not seem to find the idea entertaining. Though honestly, Luke was not sure he did either. “Talk about what?”
Luke shrugged. “School?” John gave him a disgusted look. No surprise, it was summer break after all. “Politics?”
“We are twelve. Not fifty!” The suggestion truly wasn’t a horrible one. Both of them had a future as political leaders, and most of the subjects they learned in school—and the conversations they had in their common room after—were indeed political.
“Well, what do twelve-year-olds talk about?” Luke asked in frustration.
John offered a few suggestions, “Horses, girls, food, pirates …”
John loved horses, and Luke had already heard him talk about them endlessly. He moved to the next item on the list. “Girls,” Luke answered quickly, “let’s talk about girls.” But he hadn’t really thought about what subject he had selected until he felt his cheeks grow hot.
“All right,” John set down his oar. “Do you know any pretty girls?” He looked more like a detective vying for information than a young teenager casually chatting with his friend.
“Not that come readily to mind.”
John bobbed his head, unsurprised at his friend’s naivety on the subject. “Clara has a friend,” he added lazily. “I think her name is Sarah? Or maybe Iris? I don’t know. She is pretty. She has these dark blue eyes.” It was the first Luke had ever heard John mention one of Clara’s friends in a positive light. He was usually annoyed by their constant vicinity.
“How do you get Sarah and Iris confused?”
“Well, one of the friends is Sarah and one is Iris. Clara has never clarified which was which.” John shook his head. “She has way too many friends to keep track of all of them.”
“You know,” Luke commented, “Clara has blue eyes.”
“Not dark blue, though,” John responded, as if the difference was highly important.
“True. They are more like the sky on a clear summer day.”
John gave him a funny look. “That is a bit … poetic?” Luke could not decide if that was good or bad. “How would you describe her hair?”
Clara’s hair. Hmm …“Like a fallen drop of sunlight?”
“Eww!” John pushed himself back, causing the little boat to sway significantly. “You are in love with my little sister!”
“I am not!” Luke protested as he gripped the wooden sides. If anything, the girl scared him. “I just …” He wasn’t sure what to say, “... like poetry?”
“You do?” John sounded doubtful.
“I suppose,” Luke answered. He did not know why he had given the unusually detailed descriptions, but he definitely did not want his friend to think he had feelings for his younger sister. John certainly wouldn’t approve. And it wasn’t true, anyway. Luke was terrified of the girl.
His plan backfired when John confessed, “I like poetry, too! Especially Shakespeare’s sonnets. I was reading one the other day…”
