Snowy Gestures and Summer Love

There they sat. Luke Campedelli and Callista Peskin. They were the rich kids in the lunch room. The ones that the rest of us usually shied away from whenever possible. He was the soccer star; she the head cheerleader and star of any popular events.

It wasn’t Callista that made me glare like an angry, abandoned puppy, but Luke. Luke the popular kid. Luke the soccer star. Luke the asshole who had tenderly stolen my heart and then stamped it into bits on the ground.

Cause you were mine for the summer
Now we know it’s nearly over
Feels like snow in September
But I always will remember
You were my summer love
You always will be my summer love

He was my summer love, and I was his forgotten secret. How we had ended up spending our entire summer together, I still wasn’t sure. Though, I was quite sure I had been stupidly naïve for thinking that we could last more than a summer “fling.”
I turned up the One Direction song on my iPhone and broke my stare at the couple who had ruined my happiness…

The lake. The same frickin’ lake I had been forced to come to since kindergarten. It was nice as a kindergartener. The water was clear; I used to dive under the water to try to catch the little fish inhabiting the deeper waters. Life was so simple then – I could barely pronounce the word “cellphone” and had no idea all of the possibilities that it carried with it. The lake now? No frickin’ cellphone service! I had gotten used to it in past years since my parents had always let me bring a friend along with us. This year? Not happening. It was a “family vacation.” “No tag-alongs allowed!” Yes, those were my uptight parents who had conceived a child not nearly as uptight for
their liking.

“Willow!” My mother scolded, as I leaned on the car and watched them unload all of the luggage for the two-month “get-away” that was really my “living hell”. “You could help instead of just sitting there and watching. The faster we get this done, the faster we can do something you want to do.”
“Like go home?” I mimicked her happy-go-lucky tone as she thrust a big box of cooking utensils into my arms. Hell, at least we were a little bit more advanced than a tent – we had a log cabin that had the bare necessities that somehow excluded permanent sleeping arrangements. Air mattresses were employed for a summer of backaches and an upgrade from the floor.

“Willow, nature is good for you! Just smell the air; can’t you feel the peace and serenity of it?” My dad responded. Yes, my parents turned into hippies every summer; yes, they also pretended that this was always very normal.

We were then barely finished unpacking when I saw the figure approaching from the trail to the lake.
“I heard rumors we had gotten some new neighbors up here!” I heard the familiar voice and I froze from behind the car. I tilted my head just enough that I could see him, but he couldn’t see me and it confirmed my suspicion. The school’s soccer star, Luke Campedelli, was my new neighbor at the lake. There was no doubt he was cute (or that I had often found myself staring in class) but there was no way I was going to look like an idiot and have him going back to school giving some report on my idiocy to a school population that I already didn’t fit into.

“Ah, well Willow! Why don’t you come meet our new neighbor?” My parents beckoned to me, ruining my ideas of already-established invisibility that would get me into the house safely.
I sauntered out from behind the car and met his popular-boy smirk that meant he knew exactly who I was. “Hey Willow! Nice to see you again!”

I didn’t get much alone time after that. If I decided to sunbathe on the dock, there was no doubt that he would soon join me. I pretended that he was a nuisance to me; honestly, I couldn’t help but enjoy the company. He was exactly the kind of company I had been waiting for – and he seemed to take the same interest in me!

One night in early July when we sat out on the dock together watching the sunset, he tenderly touched my chin and embraced my lips into his. When we had finally pulled away, the sun was far gone, and he smiled as if he had been planning this all along.

We spent the rest of the summer together. I couldn’t tell him no; I didn’t think he would ever hurt me. I liked having his arms around my waist and having his lips against mine. For once, I felt sexy and wanted…

Then the happy light of summer faded away; with it, went the fragile embrace of a summer fling. We texted frequently after we had closed up the lake houses for the summer, but even that seemed as if we were falling apart. Life at home reminded me that we were polar opposites, and society got in the way.

School came, and I saw him in the halls. His eyes wouldn’t meet mine, and no familiar smile danced on his lips when we encountered one another. Then Callista started hanging around on him and seemed as if attached to his hip. Two puzzle pieces that had finally found their perfect fit.
My puzzle was irregular, nowhere near the perfect fit that they were together. Even with my aching heart, I had come to accept that.

It came to be December. Snow was blanketing the thick grass, and a crisp cold reminded me I had no one to keep me in a warm embrace. And all the while, I hate him… like I should have done in the first place…