The Summer House

I sighed, pushing my bangs out of the way. The tips of my toes grazed the water as I swung my legs back and forth off the edge of the dock. “I’m just getting some sun right now, Mom.”

“Well I hope you’re not lonely there, honey.”

Brendon stretched out on his back beside me, his legs hanging off the edge and dipping into the water. He gave a mute yawn and politely looked up at the sky, allowing me to converse with my mother without distraction. I had put off calling her for so long that I felt too guilty to cut the call when she rang this time. Thankfully, he understood and didn’t seem bothered that my attention had been temporarily removed from him.

“I’m twenty-three not seventeen,” I grumbled embarrassedly, subtly glancing at Brendon’s face. His eyes were closed and the ends of his lips were softly curled upwards. “I’m just fine here.”

“You don’t have to pretend with me, Madeline. I know the lake house is secluded…”

“Yeah, but the neighbors are great,” I assured, glaring at Brendon’s now smug grin. One eye opened to peer slyly at me. I nudged him over onto his side but he merely rolled back into place. “So I’m not lonely. I’m really fine, Mom.”

“Okay, okay. Is it still the Bartlows that own the house across the lake?”

“No.” To be honest, I thought the Bartlows died a while back; they were in their eighties when I was fifteen. “The Bartlows are gone. Now it’s the, uh…” I nudged Brendon in the side – gently, this time – and mouthed for his last name. I couldn’t ask aloud because I knew my mother would want to talk to him.

He sat up languidly and whispered it in the ear that didn’t have the phone pressed against it, his plump lips accidentally brushing against my earlobe. His voice came out in a low, breathy murmur. “My last name is 'Urie'.”

I suppressed an odd shudder as I relayed the information.

My mother continued chattering, asking for details on the new neighbors. I eventually let her ramble on, mumbling uh-huh’s andmhm’s at regular intervals while focusing more of my attention on my peripheral vision. Brendon remained sitting upright beside me, quietly swinging his legs in the water with his head bent low. Occasionally, he would glance over at me, smiling shyly when our eyes met before looking back down to the sparkling blue.

After a few minutes he slowly got up, movements silent as a specter. I watched his reflection in the water grab the bottom of his t-shirt and tug upwards, revealing a pale, lean frame. It was obvious that his sturdy chest and inconspicuously muscled arms were a product of extensive heavy lifting. I recalled Brendon mentioning that he had been here for around four months, and I could only imagine how much work he had to cram in within that small timeframe to maintain the lake house and care for his grandmother.

His image rippled in the water as he stripped off the material and I finally lifted my head to look directly at him.

“What are you doing?” I whispered, covering the speaker of the phone.

“I’m gonna go for a swim,” Brendon answered just as quietly while unbuckling his belt and tugging off his jeans. He threw it with his shirt behind him before carefully lowering himself into the glimmering lake in just his black boxer briefs.

I hid my blush behind my hand.

“Oh my God!” he gasped, his upper body flailing a little before dipping his entire self into the lake. “Why is the water so cold at this time?”

I stifled a giggle and let the sound of my mother’s voice fill the silence.

Brendon disappeared under the surface several times, reappearing at a different spot than where he vanished. I watched pensively, smiling when he reappeared on the other end of the lake and energetically waved. I couldn’t help but crack a smile at his floppy hair.

“So you’re settled into the house then, sweetheart?”

My mind snapped back to my cellphone as I waved back. “Sort of. I haven’t unpacked much, to be honest.”

“Well why not, honey? You’re gonna be living there all summer.”

I recoiled as a spritz of cold water hit my face and body, my eyes darting to Brendon, who was now hovering in the water in front of me. He grinned playfully as I kicked water back at him.

“Yeah, just the summer,” I pointed out, wiping the water off my cheek. “I’m flying to L.A. around the start of September or something. I haven’t ironed out the details yet with Elizabeth but I’m going back, Mom.”

Brendon kept hovering idly in front of me but the grin on his face was gone when I looked back. He squinted down at the water.

“I’m sure the Urie’s will miss you.”

I bit back a groan. “Maybe. But, hey, Mom, I have to go. I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Alright. Good luck with your book, sweetie. I love you.”

“Thanks. Love you, too. Bye.” I pushed any thought of my book to the back of my head before turning to Brendon. “Sorry about that.”

“No problem,” he shrugged. “It was your mom, after all.”

“Are we doing anything today?”

He shook his head. “The kitchen is packed and my Grandma and Georgia are napping right now. We have a few hours to do nothing.”

I nodded and laid back onto the warm boards of the dock, waiting for Brendon to climb out.

“Um, could you do me a favor?” Brendon asked, returning to his shyness. I sat up and raised a brow at his blushing face. “Could you, um, close your eyes for a second?”

My eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Why?”

“My boxers kind of slipped off when I was swimming and they’re somewhere at the bottom of the lake, but I can’t find them so I’m just going to get a new pair,” he admitted in a rush, his face growing redder with every word.

I barked out a laugh before laying back down and covering my eyes with my palms. I heard him heave himself out of the water and onto the dock beside me. I couldn’t stifle the giggles wracking my body.

“Har-har!” Brendon called, his voice growing fainter as he ran off the dock and towards the house, his footsteps making soft thudding sounds. “Laugh it up, Madeline!”

When I heard the screen door slam shut, I took my hands off my eyes and continued to squint up at the bright blue sky.

It was hard for me to comprehend that in a world so bright and beautiful, there were people like Brendon getting dragged facedown in the mud by life’s little tragedies. Even after all the awkward glances and reserved smiles, there was still a vibrant part of him that lived in the corners of his exhausted self. They would shine spontaneously while we hung out throughout the day, and I liked to think that that’s how he was, maybe even as a teacher, before any of his troubles really ever began to devour him four months ago.

The screen door slammed again and I let the thought evaporate into the fresh air, reminding myself to scrawl it down later when I was safely tucked away in my lake house. I could faintly hear Brendon panting his way over and my eyes wandered upwards.

“Everything okay now, nudie?” I teased, laughing at his inverted, disgruntled, approaching figure.

“You’re so funny,” he grunted dryly, laying down beside me, this time with navy blue boxer briefs on. “And Georgia almost saw me running around the house naked. I thought she was asleep.”

Though I was feeling sorry for him a minute ago, the mental image of him clumsily pulling a James Bond in his birthday suit had me in hysterics. My laughter and snorts echoed throughout the open area as Brendon watched on with a disapproving shakes of his head. He let me go on for awhile, quietly picking at the planks of wood we were sitting on before deciding that I had had enough. I sobered slightly when I caught his withering stare, wiping the tears that escaped my eyes.

“That’s cute,” I chuckled.

He smiled a little. “How’s your book coming along?” he asked, successfully changing the subject and sobering me up completely.

I groaned, pulling my face down with my fingers in slow, tortured, agony. “I think I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’m going to be dropped and sued by my publishers when I get back,” I answered grimly. “I don’t really wanna talk about it right now, Brendon. Change the subject again.”

There was a blanket of silence over us before he suddenly got up and pulled all his clothes back on, blocking the sun’s brilliant rays and casting a shadow over me.

“You’re gonna give me really weird tan lines,” I informed jokingly. He merely lifted one side of his mouth and held his hand out for me to take. I quirked a brow but slipped my hand in his anyway, letting him pull me to my feet. He didn’t let go as he began to walk back towards the house, effectively dragging me along. I eyed the way his shirt clung to his wet torso and how the tips of his hair dripped water down his back and broad shoulders, darkening the fabric of his red t-shirt. Obviously he was in no condition to go anywhere. “Where are we going?”

Brendon didn’t answer, instead leading me to his Chevy. He opened the passenger door and I climbed into the seat, waiting for him to get in and drive.

Five minutes on the deserted road, I couldn’t help but ask again. “So…where are we going?”

“We’re not really going anywhere,” he said evenly, letting the car crawl at 40km/h. “I thought we could go for a drive.”

I cocked my head to the side and furrowed my brows. “Okay…”

Another five minutes of silence passed before Brendon broke it with his smooth, tenor voice.

“So, I’ve been thinking. About your book, I mean,” he stated, taking his eyes off the road to look at me. “You’ve been spending a whole lot of time with me lately and haven’t really focused on what you’re really here for.”

My eyes flickered out the windshield before returning to his face. “Uh…”

“I’ve been thinking that I want to help you out with your book. Maybe I can help with inspiration issues or something,” he continued, eyes still on me. “At least you would get something productive out of hanging out with me all day.”

I shook my head. “I like hanging out with you regardless.”

Brendon’s smile widened. “So can I help you?”

There was no way that my position could get any worse so I easily agreed, staring straight out the windshield now. “If you want. But I think you should keep your eyes on the road.”

My eyes wandered back to his and widened when he continued to beam at me, taking his hands off the steering wheel and placing them on his knees.

“What the hell are you doing?!” I shouted, my head swiveling back and forth from the road to his face. I gripped my seatbelt as his foot pressed harder on the gas.

“Well, to be a good writer, you need to experience a lot of things, right?”

“Experience in what?” I shrieked, my hands moving to grip the dashboard. “I don’t need to experience death, if that’s where you’re going with this!”

Brendon chose not to answer me, opting to roll down the windows of the truck and press his foot down harder on the accelerator. My eyes bulged as I felt the rush of air seep into the cab of the truck and my hair blow back.

“Are you stupid?” I yelled, my knuckles turning white. My heart thumped erratically in my chest, beating against my ribcage painfully from all the adrenaline and fear coursing through my body. “You’re going to get us both killed! Stop the fucking car!”

“Oh yeah, ‘cause I’m going to hit all the traffic,” Brendon remarked sarcastically, putting one hand lazily back on the wheel. He threw me a broad grin before closing his eyes and sticking his head out the window, our speed only climbing higher. Even though he was right about the deserted dirt road, it felt like I left my stomach somewhere behind us as I watched the truck reach 130km/h.

A roll of nausea stirred in me.

“Stop the fucking car!” I screamed again, grabbing his wrist. His head slid back into the car and he looked like a mix of crazed and elated. His hair was significantly dryer after sticking it out the window and significantly messier. I fought the urge to punch him in the face, only because I knew that would probably crash the car. “I’m going to puke!”

“Just stick your head out the window for a second and enjoy the moment,” he refused, keeping his one hand on his knee and the other barely on the steering wheel. Clearly, he didn’t hear the last thing I said. “I’m trying to help you.”

“Oh my God,” I wheezed, crushing my eyes shut. “I’m going to vomit all over my lap!”

“No you’re not,” Brendon said confidently, putting his hand on my knee.

“I liked you a lot better when you were shy fifteen minutes ago!” I hissed. “What are you, bipolar?”

He merely laughed and hummed along with the whistling wind.

The only thought I could coherently make out in my spinning mind was the repetitive chant of ‘holy shit’.

His boisterous laugh echoed in my ears as my heart drummed harder and harder in my tiny body, rattling my frame enough to stir up another tumble of nausea. The wind whipped passed us as we finally maintained 150km/h.

I clutched helplessly at his damp, red shirt, eyes wild and desperate. “Oh, God, please stop!”

The town we frequently visited was present in the windshield as a tiny speck way too soon than normal, and rapidly growing. My teeth were chattering in fear and adrenaline. If Brendon didn’t stop fucking around in the next two minutes, we would end our twenty-three years of life in stupidity.