Page 24 of One More Chance
The rest of the swim is silent, only the lapping water and sounds of our breathing filling the night sky.
As Harper starts to get closer to the shore, the water level getting lower, her wet skin emerges from the surface. The moonlight licks at it, illuminating it.
I stop in the water, watching as she gathers her golden hair to the side and wrings droplets from it. Watching her get out of the lake is equivalent to every movie scene where the beautiful woman is getting out of the body of water, slick wet skin, hands running through her hair. We’ve all seen them.
And me? I’m the dorky, nerdy, weird guy always standing somewhere off to the side with big cartoon heart eyes.
“Aren’t you getting out?” she asks, looking back at me.
I realize I’m still standing in waist deep water, staring at her. “Yeah, sorry. I thought I felt something move,” I say, whatever that means.
“Like a fish or a snake?”
“There are snakes in lakes?” I ask.
“As much as I want to laugh at the rhyme, yes,” she says.
If I didn’t want to get out before, I definitely do now. I evacuate the snake filled body of water and grab the towels I laid on the chair next to the fire, handing her one and wrapping one around my shoulders. “I’m sure if we sit here, we’ll dry out in no time,” I tell her.
Harper sits in the other chair, patting at the water on her arms and then wrapping the towel around her hair to dry it more. “I’m sorry it took me so long to change before,” she says.
“Oh, it didn’t. No problem.”
She smacks her forehead with her palm and shakes. “No, no. I was just checking through the bag Lyla packed me and saw she didn’t pack…appropriate pajamas.” She squeezes her eyes shut and presses her lips into a line.
I laugh as I watch her turn a little pink. “What do you mean appropriate?”
Harper looks up at the sky, whispering under her breath. I can’t hear what she’s saying but if I had to guess she’s probably cussing out her sister. I know the look well.
“She packed like, a lingerie nightgown thing,” she says.
Oh. OH.
Oh...
“I see,” I say, smirking.
“I think I can just sleep in my outfit that was packed for the morning,” she says.
“I have extra clothes,” I offer. “Probably more comfortable than jeans.”
“What do you have?”
“A T-shirt and some basketball shorts. You can probably roll them up.” I stand and rifle through my bag next to the tent, pulling out a plain white tee and black shorts. I pull out a nearly identical outfit for myself and then return to Harper, handing her a set.
“Thanks,” she says.
While Harper ducks into the tent, I look around, realizing we’ll have to take turns changing in there. When she emerges a few minutes later, I can’t help but think she’s completely adorable.
Harper tucks her hair behind her ear and hangs her wet suit over the back of her chair to let it dry out.
“You look cute.” The words pop out before I can stop myself.
She looks down at herself, the baggy shorts falling all the way down to her knees even after she’s rolled them a couple of times. The T-shirt swallows her, the collar of it so wide it exposes her clavicle.
“Oh, thank you,” she says, pointing to the tent. “Your turn.”
I duck into the tent and quickly change, careful not to get our sleeping bags wet. When I step out, Harper’s facing the lake, her arms wrapped around her middle, staring out into the darkness.