Dream Team

I jumped into the refreshing crystal clear water like I have every summer since I learned how to swim. As I emerged, I reached for the wall and in one swift movement propped myself on the edge of the pool. “It’s cold!” I shrieked. The water dripped from my blond hair onto my tanned shoulders as someone towered over me. Before I could react I was in his arms, and before I could stop him I was in mid-air flying back into the chilled water. “Patrick!” I screamed right before I hit the surface.
I should have known that this was going to happen, that’s how it always happened. In the small in-ground pool, hidden by a high wooden fence, the rules of the game were made clear long ago. If you’re in the pool yard you were going to end up in the water, whether you had to be pushed, thrown, or just relentlessly teased, eventually you’d be heading into the 8 foot deep pool. By force or by choice. Whether you were in street clothes, or wrapped in a towel, you were still fair game. It was a game the six of us loved to play, and became quite good at. Looking back, there was really no point to the game, other than the sheer enjoyment it brought us.
Then came the rain, the rain that ruined a perfectly good swim day. It fell slowly at first, unnoticeably, covered by the splashes and giggles. It started to fall more steadily, hard enough for us to pause, to point out the obvious. Almost unexpectedly the light rain turned into a down pour in a crash of thunder. We all went scrambling to get away from the storm. Some running ahead, and others left in the rain, trying to save things that were being left behind.
Once the last of us was in the glass porch it was silent. We listened to the rain fall and watched the lightning crash. The thunder boomed and someone screamed. The silence was gone and replaced with giggles. Dry towels and a few snacks were brought out to us with a strict warning not to enter the house until we’d dried off. Again silence fell as we sat on the floor in a circle, wrapped in towels, hair drenched, but a smile on every one of our faces.
A chuckle broke the silence, “Remember when Casey was afraid of the pool?” Everyone laughed as I tried to defend myself.
“Hey, I was little!”
“And remember when a squirrel chased her around the park.” It was Patrick who spoke this time.
“No!” We replied, followed by simultaneous laughter. It was now Patrick’s turn to defend himself as he made up some tail of our childhood days. He always liked to talk, and he always did have some imagination. Realizing that we found the end of his story just as funny as his initial statement he gave up defending himself and went on offense.
“Remember when Kaitlyn ate a worm?” Our laughter made it evident that we remembered.
“Or when she threw a bucket of pee at me!” I called out.
“Alright guys I was like 3!” She was three, it has been about 7 years. We had plenty of stories to tell about the past, but the time we spent all together was dwindling. I looked around the room, I grew up here, the kids in this room were like my own siblings. I looked at my own sister who sat across the room from me and wondered if she would have such fond memories of us. We were once so close, but what was happening? Sitting next to her was her best friend, who in my opinion resembled me more than my own sister did. Next to me was my best friend, the person I told everything to. And on my other side there was Ryan, the closest thing I ever had to a little brother. His sandy blond buzz cut and bright blue eyes made him appear younger than he actually was; which matched his personality perfectly. Then there was Patrick. His curly brown hair still dark with water. We was tall and lanky, and had the worst temper of anyone I knew; But underneath that temper was a big heart, and a caring young man. When we were little he was the leader, we did whatever Patrick said. Now he sat slightly separated from the group, arms crossed over his pale bare chest. Someone said another “remember when moment” and he looked up at me with a smile. With a chuckle and a wink her replied
“Yeah…we were the dream team.” I looked at him with a smile on my face but inside I was fighting back tears. I was getting left behind in the storm, some stayed behind with me, and some were beginning to disappear in the distance. But Patrick was gone. I knew he was still there, just out of sight. But I wanted nothing more than for him to come back and dance in the rain with me.