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Chapter Seven
Labor Day weekend had always been Molly’s favorite long weekend of the year. Crystal Lake at the end of August, beginning of September, was one the best places on earth to be. It was thick silent forests and sparkling water, cool mornings and mist along the grass. Warm afternoons on the lake but feeling that hint of fall in the air, and floating down the river with her best friends. It was last-minute barbecues and bonfires on the beach.
Today had been perfect.
And not just because the weather had been wonderful, or because the last of the litter of kittens she’d rescued the week before had been adopted. It was perfect because Nate was home and things were back to normal. Or at least her new normal. A normal she could live with.
They floated down the river, and she teased him about pretty much everything while he made her laugh with just a look. They spent a lot of time arguing sports. She liked the Montreal Canadiens, while he was all about the Rangers. Nate was a Patriots fan, while she liked the Ravens. They argued about the merits of rap versus rock, (she liked Eminem; he liked Tool), should the toilet paper roll be over or under (she was all for under; three guesses as to his preference).
Most importantly, she learned that she could compartmentalize and keep her feelings for Nate tucked away in some quiet little corner of her soul. She could do that and put a smile on her face and forget that things weren’t the same. Or normal. That she was pretending things were normal. Giving an Oscar-worthy performance, in fact.
And for a while, she forgot she was pretending. For a while, she relished having Nate in her circle again. His smile reacting to hers. His eyes lighting up when she told a funny joke or pointed out that every time Brad bent over, he exposed eighty percent of his butt crack. Every. Single. Time.
They’d floated down the river and enjoyed the water, the music, and their friends old and new. Link was funny as hell and kept them entertained with stories that made no sense. But the more beer he ingested, the harder it was to understand his accent, and by the time they reached the pub on the water, he was singing a song about a lass and a beer and a night gone bad.
Molly watched Link saunter up the stairs as she pulled a pair of jean shorts over her bathing suit. She’d opted for a simple black one-piece and, since it was still warm, decided to forgo the white tank top for now. She tied a blue zip-up hoodie around her waist and slipped into her running shoes, which she’d kept in her backpack.
“I can’t believe he’s one of the top footballers in Europe,” she said, pulling her hair up into a high ponytail as she turned to Nate. His silver aviators were still in place so she couldn’t see his eyes, but there was something about the way he stood or the stillness in the air that made the hair on the
back of her neck stand on end, as if she’d stuck her fingers into an electrical socket.
For a few moments, he didn’t answer. He just looked at her. And she looked at him. The air got thicker, the electricity hotter. She wanted him to take off his sunglasses, hell, she nearly asked him to, but then they were saved, or rather, she was saved, when Jessica yelled from the dock.
“You guys coming or what? We’re all starving.”
The spell, or whatever it was, shattered, and Molly jumped at the sound of Jessica’s voice. She scooped up her backpack and turned on a dime, suddenly wanting to get away from Nate. Away from the eyes that hid behind those sunglasses. Away from the pretending.
It was exhausting.
She headed up the steps and disappeared inside the restaurant. When she spied her brother, she tossed him her backpack and asked him to save her a seat at their table before seeking out the bathroom. She hoped a bit of quiet would calm her nerves. There were a few girls at the sink applying gloss and fixing hair, but none that Molly knew. She waited until they left and then splashed water over her face, leaning a bit closer as she studied the reflection in the mirror.
She’d owned these features her entire life, and for a while, they hadn’t been her friend. But that was more about being young and immature. About feeling awkward and not good enough. Luckily for her, it passed. She’d always been a confident kid, especially when it came to sports. It was when her hormones exploded that things got complicated.
She took stock in her reflection in a clinical way, as if it didn’t belong to her. Big expressive eyes. Clear skin. Nice mouth. High cheekbones. Her jaw was a little pointy in her opinion, but whatever. She was what her Nana Malone called a late bloomer. She’d told Molly that, one afternoon after too many mimosas. Her nana had drained her long crystal stem of its golden liquid, set it down on the table between them, and waved her finger in Molly’s face. She’d said, “Thank God you grew into your arms and legs and that face. Lord, for a while there, all I could see was your damn nose every time I looked at you. Reminded me of your grandfather, and goodness, it didn’t suit him either.” She’d settled back in her chair, nodded a few times, and said, “Thank God indeed.”
The only time Molly had given any kind of a crap about the way she looked was in senior year when she realized her feelings for Nathan Jacobs went way beyond the boundary of their friendship. And when he swooped in and asked her to prom? When he told off Brett for asking her because of a bet? It had made her whole year. She thought he’d done it because he had feelings for her, and for two whole weeks, she’d fantasized about the upcoming night. About being with him. Maybe even having sex for the first time. Didn’t everyone do that on prom night?
Instead, the night of, he’d acted no different than any other time they’d hung out, and at the dance, he’d spent more time chatting up girls than hanging out with Molly. At the after-party, she’d walked in on him with some girl she’d never met before. The sight of his naked butt as he moved inside her was an image that had burned into her brain with the force of a rocket. She froze, probably whimpered or something equally embarrassing, because he knew he wasn’t alone anymore.
Nathan had actually turned around and winked when he saw her. It was a hey, I’m getting some kind of thing. He told her to close the door and then he’d gotten back to business. That was when she knew she’d never be like those other girls. Interesting in ways that Nathan would be attracted to.
She was Molly. A pal. The girl who spent hours in net as goalie while he practiced his wrist shot. Or behind the plate while he worked on his slider. The girl he felt comfortable winking at while he was inside another girl.
As for the blossoming, the growing into her face and body as her Nana said, well, it didn’t seem to matter to Nathan, not even when other boys started noticing her. And it never would.
“So, get over it already,” she muttered, stepping away from the mirror.
The only seat available to Molly had her sandwiched between Link and Nate. Which was fine. Link was a welcome distraction. His stories were both hilarious and unbelievable. But the entire meal, from appies of deep-fried pickles, stuffed mushrooms, and calamari to entrees of burgers, fries, and homemade pizzas, she felt Nate’s quiet looks, almost like a physical touch. And by the time everyone was done and they were getting ready to board their transportation back to Crystal Lake, Molly felt like she wanted to crawl out of her skin. She thrummed with nervous energy, and her shoulders were tight with nerves.
She walked around the corner to where it was quiet and leaned against the railing. The large deck wrapped around this particular restaurant and jutted out over the river. She looked down at the swirling water so long that her vision blurred, and blinked it away when Zach sidled up alongside her.
Her brother’s cheeks were flushed, and there was a glassy tinge to his eyes—the guy had had his fair share of beer. He rested his elbows on the railing.
“Great day, Moll.”
“It was.”
“Almost like back in the day. For a minute there, it felt like Stu wasn’t an old married man, and Brad didn’t mention his damn job once. And Nathan? It’s like he never left.”
