Moonlit Waters

As I’ve mentioned before, Pearl knocks on the door when she’s trying to wake me up. She wouldn’t enter my room, she’s too considerate for that. And yes, I’ve also spent some time wondering just how subtly adult a child can act while still being a child. Are children always like that?

Anyway, the point stands. Pearl doesn’t just come in. And my parents are long past waking me in the morning, especially when they have to get up early for work and I don’t have school.

So I should hope to be right when assuming I could sleep in, right?

Well, not exactly.

On Friday morning I’m awoken by something large and soft flopping over my head.

No ‘Timmy, I want pancakes’, no ‘can we plaayy?’.

I raise my head with a start, fling the something away before even realising what it is. There’s a loud noise as it knocks over the bottle on my night stand.

“Ooops,” a voice that’s certainly not Pearl’s says from the door.

“What the fuck?” I look up, only to be met by Alex’s smug grin. A shape on the floor tells me that he just flung a pillow onto me to wake me up.

“Oh right, I forgot.” He turns to stare at the wall behind him.

“The fuck?” I repeat. What is he even doing here? Did Pearl let him in?

I’m not angry. Just confused.

When Alex doesn’t react, I go to the trouble of formulating an actual sentence.

“Why are you staring at the wall?” I’m still not really awake. I haven’t quite yet gotten past the fact that he’s in my room.

“Pearl told me not to look at you while waking you up. She said coming in would be okay if I didn’t look at you.” He turns back to face me with a dubious smirk. “Do you have any idea what she might be talking about?”

Of course I do. Her being a child, the assumption makes quite a lot of sense. But before his last sentence, I’d actually thought of something completely different. After all, I’ve currently got another reason for not wanting anybody to see me while I’m still asleep. When I myself can never be sure who I am. Selena or Timothy.

Lucky me Alex found Timothy sleeping in the bed.

“Was it her who let you in?”

He nods. “She also gave me the pillow.”

“After you asked for it?”

“Nope. All by herself. I’ve got her trained really well, you know? Years of my influence don’t wash off so easily.” That smug grin again.

With a smile, I put back the covers and get up. Alex reacts by yelping and shielding his eyes, then looking me up and down suspiciously.

“Since when do you sleep in pajamas?”

I shrug. “Felt like it.”

He scrunches up his face. “Isn’t that… warm?”

I point at the open window. “Not if you don’t mind the mosquitoes.”

“You’re weird.”

“And that’s news?”

My hand is on the door to my closet when I realise what is very visibly hung up inside. Both Alex’s shirt and the swimsuit he gave me.

For just a second, my heartbeat stops. Everything seems to be suspended mid-air. My stomach does a little flip.

Then my brain kicks into gear.

“Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to change. So, there’s the door.” I point in the rough direction. “Unless you want to watch?” Big mistake. Alex’s grin broadens.

“Well, who’d I be to decline an invitation like that?”

I’m on him with two quick steps, it takes three more seconds to have him pushed out of the room and the door shut in his face.

“DREAM ON!” I shout as I open the closet.

-

When I come down the stairs five minutes later, Alex is sitting across from Pearl at a set breakfast table, a basket with croissants between them.

“That was quick,” Alex says. “Lucky you, there are still some left.”

Indeed, I was quicker than usual. But that’s because I didn’t shower. I just can’t risk it. Instead, I did my best to clean myself with a washing cloth and a bit of soap.

“Here, Timmy,” Pearl says and puts a croissant on the empty plate sitting beside Alex. Her fingers leave traces of chocolate on the pastry. At this point I’m not even sure whether she’s experimenting with Chocolate as a beauty product or just eating messily.

“You’ll clean her up,” I tell Alex as I take a first bite from the plain croissant.

“I can clean myself!” Pearl shouts, trying her best to look outraged while grinning from ear to ear.

“See? I’m only helping her grow independent.”

I smirk. “You just wait till you see the bathroom.” Then a thought hits me. “By the way. Are you here for a specific reason? Shouldn’t you have training today?”

“Nope, not today. Training was postponed to tomorrow because Coach had something come up.”
“So you were just bored?”

“Nope. Remember the anniversary of the youth hostel they’re going to celebrate today?”

I nod. It’s not going to be anything huge, just an outside buffet for dinner. Usually, they only have like two dishes per meal, so actually, it is quite an effort they’re putting in. But it’s nothing I care much to see.

“Well, Claire told me they’re short of staff for this and they could use a few extra hands.”

Claire is the daughter of the owners of the youth hostel. She’s in the same year as Alex and I. I never talked much to her, but Alex seems to get along with her alright.

“And I’ve been meaning to ask if you wanted to come and help them out with me.”

I shrug. “Sure.” I haven’t got anything better to do, after all. “Do they pay?”

Alex grins awkwardly. “I didn’t ask? I mean, probably, I guess. We’ll also be free to eat at the banquet if we wanna.”

“When do they want us to be there?”

“Soon as we’re finished with breakfast,” he laughs.

-

And so it happens that twenty minutes later I’m standing in a large, industrial-type kitchen, chopping onions.

There are five other people besides us in the room. The chef, three helpers and Claire. The place is bustling. There’s a whole list of dishes we have to get done and the chef is making damn sure we’re staying on track. He doesn’t shout or anything, just gives very clear and precise instructions at a high frequency.

The work is monotone and it doesn’t take long before I zone out and just quietly place cut after cut. Occasionally, I listen in on Alex and Claire talking next to me. They’re constantly joking around in a friendly manner, all the while working at speeds I most definitely have to concentrate for. Every now and again, they throw a curveball question to include me, but when I only give short and vague replies, they accept it.

Talking to people other than Alex is weird still. I mean, he’s always been my best friend. But talking to Claire, for example, makes me very acutely aware of all the ways a conversation can go wrong, which in turn makes participating in said conversation rather hard. It used to be different, when I was a kid talking was absolutely my thing, but that changed, I suppose, around the time puberty hit me. As I know now it was only the beginning of something bigger and far worse than just simple awkwardness.

Crazy to think how much more present those problems have been just a few days ago. The progress I’ve made from simply staying at home as a shut-in, to taking the initiative of asking Alex to do something, to trusting him enough to follow him here. Not because I want to, but because I have nothing better to do. That’s not normal, is it? The psyche takes longer than just two days to heal. So it has to be the comet, right? The comet, the voice and Selena.

Selena. The prospect of meeting Alex this night at the lake makes my stomach tingle. It’ll be nice. And now is nice too. So why bother questioning the reasons behind my good mental state. If it’s there, I might as well make the best of it.

Evening arrives and with it the end of our work. We help carry all the bowls and tablets out and arrange them on the long row of beer tables. Finally, Claire gives each of us a fifty-pound note and wishes us a nice evening before heading off to join her parents. It’s not much, considering how we worked seven hours for this without a real break, but I’m not here for the money, am I?

Looking around, I stuff the note into my pocket. Alex and I are standing at the edge of the youth hostel’s outside area. It’s a large meadow with occasional trees and a few camping huts. The trees are in full bloom, the green of their leaves is strong. A few birds are still going strong, despite the advanced time of the day. The heat is already settling. The sun isn’t high above us anymore and the occasional shade provided by the trees makes for quite a nice temperature. The air smells of steamed vegetables and juicy meat, of curry and barbecue.

Just about all of the current residents of the hostel must have come out today. The place is absolutely packed, there’s really not much free space on the beer benches around the tables.

Right now they’re falling silent because Claire’s father has stepped before them, his hand raised in greeting.

“Ladies and gentlemen, a wonderful evening to you,” he begins. He’s wearing simple jeans and a fairly nice shirt. The clothes don’t match the words. “This day, as you all have probably heard by now, marks a special occasion for us, here at Lakeside’s.”

Nobody besides him and his wife uses the hostel’s name. ‘Lakeside Retreat’. How standard do you want to be? Fortunately, the place is well-known enough for people other than Wiccans and wannabe shamans to come by.

“I know, I know you’re all here for the buffet, really, so I’ll keep it nice and short.”

I nod and raise a respectful eyebrow at Alex. At least the man isn’t delusional.

“The message matches the intention: I simply want to use this opportunity to say thank you. To all of you. Your continued support not only means the world to us, it is also what makes all this possible in the first place. Of equal importance to our cause are our dear staff members, some of whom unfortunately couldn’t make it here today. And at last I would like to thank my wife, who’s everlasting passion got me started on this wonderful project that has been with us for twenty years now. It hasn’t always been easy and it won’t always be, but it is moments like this, that make it all worth the struggle.”

I make a barely audible gagging-noise and hear Alex chuckle next to me.

“So, thank you for this wonderful moment. The buffet is all yours.”

Everybody spends a respectful twenty seconds clapping before they get up and meander in direction of the buffet.

Alex and I hold back.

“Not hungry?” he asks.

“Had a bite here and there. I’m happy to wait until it’s a little less cramped.”

“You cheesy little-” he mutters under his breath but stops before getting into specifics.

Fortunately for Alex, it doesn’t take long before it’s our turn. I suppose that’s mainly thanks to Claire’s idea of putting the plates and cutlery in more than just one place.

With both our plates filled, we sit on the trunk of a tree, far away enough that the noise from the eating mass isn’t as audible.

“Say what you will about this place and its owners,” Alex mumbles with his mouth full, “but the chef knows what he’s doing.”

I nod. “Shame they don’t give him free rein more often.” It’s a youth hostel, after all. Not some metropolis’s biggest hotel. They have to keep an eye on their spendings for food. There’s a self-catering kitchen too, so not even everybody that comes here also pays for dinner.

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?” a girl’s voice asks from beside us.

I look up from my plate, blink as I try to make out her identity in spite of the sun blinding me, then bring up my hand to shield my eyes.

“It’s not a seat,” Alex replies plainly, not bothering to look up. He just loves messing with people that haven’t gotten used to his humour yet. After waiting a few seconds, he adds, “and it’s not taken.”

“Thanks,” she says and sits on Alex’s other side.

She’s pretty, far as I can make out. Long brunette hair openly falling down her shoulders and back. Her skin is fair with a few freckles gracing her cheeks. There’s a slight snub to her nose and her lips are well-formed. She’s wearing a simple, black t-shirt and tight jeans.

“You guys live here, right?” she asks, a fork with potato salad suspended halfway to her mouth.

“And you don’t.” There’s a friendly grin audible in his voice. “I imagine you must be quite jealous.”

“Yeah right,” she scoffs. “There’s literally no reception around here.”

“Well, the internet at my place works just splendidly.”

Is he flirting with her? I can feel my face flush and I shuffle uncomfortably.

She pauses just long enough to make clear that she understood the implication, then goes on just like before. “Anyway, that’s not what I’m getting at. I don’t mind going without internet for a week. What I do mind, though, is hanging out with literally just my parents for a week.”

Alex laughs at that and even I break into a grin.

“So, I was wondering if maybe you could show me around here. There’s got to be cool places none of the tourists get to see, right?”

Alex doesn’t skip a beat. “Absolutely. Unfortunately, though, I won’t be free for most of tomorrow.” I halt, unsure where this is going. If he’s flirting with her, why would he say something like that? “Timmy, however,” he goes on, hitting me on the back so hard I almost drop my plate, “would just love to do the honours.”

It literally hits me at that moment, that he’s not actually flirting with her. That bastard is trying to set me up.

I don’t need to look at his face to see the mischievous grin. He’s certainly falling back into old patterns quickly.

“Would you, Tim?” she asks, leaning forward to look at me. She’s smiling in this friendly way that makes it really hard to refuse a request.

I feel my cheeks flush. “It’s Timothy,” I manage to mumble, trying very hard not to glare daggers at my best friend.

“Hi, nice to meet you.” She holds out her hand and gives me a firm handshake. “I’m Isabella.”

-

Half an hour later, as the sun is steadily closing in on the horizon, we say our early goodbyes.
Alex has been a little fidgety for a few minutes at that point, not wanting to interrupt the ongoing conversation, but very obviously wanting to leave. It’s rather unusual for him and not even that subtle. When Isabella realises, she asks “Do you have somewhere to be?”

He just nods, saying, “Yes, I do, actually.”

She doesn’t seem to take offence on it, just waves at me and says, “Alright then, Timothy, I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, see ya.” And off we are.

I'm not as fidgety as Alex at that point, because I know that I won’t be too late for any potential nightly meetings. But when he leaves, I leave with him. Both because I don’t want to let him wait in the middle of the lake and because I actually want to be there too.

We’re almost off the property when Alex suddenly halts and turns.

“What-?” I ask and turn as well, trying to discern what he’s looking at. But he’s not looking at anything specific. Instead, he’s scanning the crowd.

“Are you looking for somebody?” I ask, trying hard to sound surprised. I know he won’t find what he’s looking for.

He pauses again, then looks at me blankly. “Huh? No, it’s… Never mind, let’s go.”

“By the way,” I ask as we round the corner onto the street back into town. “What was up with you and Isabella at the beginning? Are you trying to set me up or something?”

His brooding expression disappears, only to be replaced by that mischievous grin of his. “Of course I am. Don’t you think she’s cute?”

I blush almost immediately. “Of course she is, but…” She’s a stranger. Even in the conversation after her introduction, I didn’t really participate. Alex answered most of her questions, sometimes even for the both of us.

“C’mon, I know you would just love to have a girlfriend.”

He’s not even wrong with that assumption. I mean, I’m not desperate or anything, but I guess it would be nice? But that’s not what I’m getting at. “But wouldn’t you too? I mean, like to have a girlfriend?”

He shrugs. “Nah, I'm good. My last relationship didn't exactly end well. And also, she won’t be staying here forever. I doubt anything serious could come off this, but it sure is a great opportunity for you to gather a bit of experience in the department, right?”

"Your last relationship?" His last relationship I know of was months ago. And their breakup wasn't toxic at all, they simply grew apart and eventually decided to end it and stay friends.

"Earlier this summer, didn't wanna pester you with it. Wasn't all that serious either, or at least that's what I thought at the time." He pauses, then shrugs. "Let's not talk about that now."

It's not hard to drop the subject with how many questions are swirling around my head.

“Also, what places did you mean I could show her? The track around the lake is common knowledge, everybody goes there.” That’s another problem. He can’t be meaning for me to show Isabella-

“The waterfall? The tree? She looks like she could handle both the trip and the climb, wouldn’t you agree?”

I shrug. “But aren’t those… Our spots?”

He mimics my shrug. “Your decision. I mean, she won’t have much opportunity to pass on the secret, right? And,” he clasps his hands together and presses his cheek against them, going on in a sing-song voice. “it would be soooo romantic.”

“Oh shut up.” With a smile and a blush, I push him away. In the golden light of the setting sun, he only tumbles a single step before regaining his balance.

“But it was right what I did, wasn’t it?” he asks, suddenly getting very serious. His eyes focus on my face, clearly taking in every ever-so-subtle twitch.

My blush deepens. “You’re such a prick, you know that?”

I try to push him again, but he dances back and my hand only moves the air.

“Was it?” he repeats his question, a lopsided grin on his lips.

We’ve arrived at the side road that leads to his house, mine further onwards. Our ways split up, so I stop walking, thinking for a moment.

Right now I have bigger problems, don’t I? I mean, not really problems, but isn’t reconnecting with Alex more important? Then again, he was the one to suggest it. And anyway, with all the awkwardness I bring to the table, I can be sure enough that nothing will come of it.

So I shrug. “We’ll see, I guess.”