Free

The water looked perfect. It sparkled so bright that I struggled to keep my gaze. All I wanted to do was run down the grass hill with my bare feet and dive off the dock, but I couldn’t. Instead I was stuck in small talk with strangers who seemed to be hiding something. Don’t get me wrong they were nice people and the invite to spend the weekend at their lake house in Montana was amazing. However this place was too beautiful, they were too beautiful, and I found it all a bit suspicious.

“I like your shorts.” A boy appeared out of the boathouse next to me. I looked down at my baggy swim trunks that hit just below my knee. They had a pink and purple design but regardless of the feminine effort, they screamed lesbian. I fought the light pink that flushed to my cheeks and I was immediately grateful for my hat. I pulled it down a little making it near impossible to see his face. His flashed a smile as it hit me that I hadn’t actually responded to his compliment.

“You want to go out on the boat?” he asked, giving me the This-Is-Your-Escape look. With zero hesitation I B-lined in his direction, not looking back to the group I had just rudely departed from and I joined him with three other guys in a speed boat tied to the dock.

One of them, Alex, had been a counselor at my summer camp two years prior. “Wow, you have grown up!” he said in a friendly tone. I thanked him with a smile but inside my eyes rolled to the back of my head. No 14 year old girl wants to hear that after treading through the war that was pre-teen. He might as well have pat me on the head and asked if I finally started my period. “Shorts Boy” introduced himself as Ryan, Alex’s cousin. The other two barely looked at me and excitedly chatted about picking up some friends across the lake. Honestly I didn’t care. The boat was fast, the waves were smooth, and Foo Fighters was blasting loudly on the speakers. Life was good! I would comment occasionally when appropriate to avoid looking completely socially impaired but overall I drifted off into my own world.

We picked up 4 girls who looked more prepared for a spring fling than boating activities. They were painted in accessories from bold necklaces and bangles to giant sunglasses that reminded me of the eyes on Disney characters. They were coated in what seemed like an excessive amount of makeup but what did I know? To me makeup meant powered foundation, basically invisible blush, and Chapstick. Clearly I was out of my league. The girls mostly just ignored me which I counted as win considering minimal passive aggressive comments were exchanged. I watched the boys staring at them in their bikinis and laughing at their ditzy jokes. I felt like a scientist studying the art of flirting in its natural habitat, grateful to be there for the educational experience but not necessarily included; an outsider looking in.

Eventually our original group of 5 made its way back to home base. Ryan and I unloaded all the gear as everyone prepared for dinner. Casual talk reemerged itself as my parents and the other adults joined us by the water. The hot, summer day faded perfectly into the evening. Colors exploded in the sky cooling softly until the only light came from the amber of our campfires. My sister and I made more s’mores than our stomachs could handle. Towards the end we became so impatient craving for them that we just popped all the pieces in our mouth without proper construction.

As it came time for departure both my belly and bladder were so full that I found it difficult to get up. As the rest of my family finished our polite goodbyes I headed up early to use the restroom before the drive. My exit was anything but graceful. The hill I had to climb was steep and the branches from the tree hung low. In that moment being 5’8 wasn’t the most excellent of my characteristics. The night was dark except for the moon and the shadows it created blended with the hanging leaves. I felt like they were playing a trick on me, whispering to each other as they smacked me in the face. I prayed to God to give me a machete.

Hearing him behind me startled me in more than one way. Ryan stepped out of the darkness with stealth I could only dream of accomplishing. He reached forward and grabbed my hand. In my head I immediately yanked my arm back but luckily my body was temporarily petrified. My frozen state also saved me from jumping as his voice broke into the night, “So you are leaving now right?” I didn’t mind that he already knew the answer. I nodded, terrified of what came next. I hoped he couldn’t feel my palm sweating. “Can I have a kiss goodbye?” he said and I hesitated before leaning forward. He smelt like bug spray and his hands were sticky from the marshmallow residue. He reached up with his free hand and stroked my ratted lake hair as he stuck his tongue into my mouth. I followed his movements like an echo for what seemed like an eternity. We pulled a part with a grin equivalent to the first time I rode a roller coaster. Then he walked away and I never saw him again.

My head flashed with images I should have noticed earlier. How he sat next me on the boat or how he offered to help me and my sister clean up our sticky volcano of leftovers from our feast. This wasn’t the earliest time or even the last when the signs of a boy having interest in me would go over my head. However it was the first time I didn’t act in response to what I wanted. 

In reality, that night when Ryan climbed the hill behind me and asked for a kiss I was too afraid to say yes. I had no prior mouth locking experience and wasn’t about to reveal that to an incredibly cute older boy who by some miracle found me and my board shorts attractive. Instead we exchanged a gentle but overall awkward hug.  I received my real first kiss years later in a Seven Eleven parking lot so the romantic in me prefers to picture that Montana summer night by the lake instead. 

Ryan may not have been the opener for all the boys over the years who have been successful enough to press their lips against mine but I keep the memory as a reminder that there will always be somebody who likes me for being exactly who I am. I was so unaware of the attention that I didn’t alter my normal behavior. Ryan captured the raw, bare version of me and liked what he saw. I doubt he remembers a girl he met one time over 10 years ago but for me it wasn’t insignificant. Through all this time Ryan has unknowingly helped me stay myself even through doubt. He set me free.