Ruining His Summer

A/N: I know some of you have really wanted to see this on Wattpad, and I don't know why on earth I did it, because I don't really don't this novel that much, but I know that a lot of you guys do, and you didn't get to read the ending so I'm decidinng to post it again, on Wattpad, on my new account. I really hope you reread the story and thanks very much for all the reading you did the first time around.

PROLOGUE.

I swatted a firefly from my ear as my eyes adjusted to the darkness while party goers laughed hysterically at something. At one point, I think I heard Leo Gibson screaming that he was close to wetting himself, it was that funny.

The boards of the dock creaked as I walked through the sea of underage drinkers and the strong smell of salt water and cigarette smoke. Farther down the dock, I saw my father’s boat floating out on the lake.

“Yo, Via!” someone shouted, “You’re low on beer! Fill your friggin’ keg!”

It was like the conductor waved his baton and the orchestra came to life. Laugh like cartoon hyenas and double over like old men with canes, now.   

 Leo yelled over the laughter, “Dude, I’m serious! I’m going to pee my pants!”

I shook my head. “Fill it yourself,” I told them, and this started a whole new chorus of laughs and struggles to keep upright. Drunks will literally think anything is funny. “Have you guys seen Rick?”  

The guy who yelled my name (actually, my high school nickname, but whatever) blinked. “Rick?” he asked, and I nodded. “No. Wait, Rick’s here?”

I walked away from the group of jocks at the beginning of the dock without answering. In the corner of my eye, I see Abe Ronrock walking by me, keeping his eyes forward. I’m little of shocked that he’s even here.

Finally, I spotted the shaggy, light brown hair by the boat. He’s wearing his trademark black hoodie and ratty jeans. He’s looking at the boat with the same look of concentration I see when he’s in class.

Here’s the truth: Rick is really smart but he doesn’t like anyone, including me, to know about it. I still have trouble believing that his teachers still don’t know how smart he really is.

But that could be because there’s talk that Rick has some drug connections. I’ve never seen him smoke it himself, but I’ve seen him passing it out to kids at school in between periods.  

“Hey,” I said, and he turned, offering me a light smile. I liked to call it the Rick Smile. “Whatcha doing?”   

He shrugged. “Just looking at the boat,” he told me. He hesitated before he grabbed onto one of the cables and swung himself aboard. “It’s a nice boat. I’d kill to drive it.”

I nodded, even though I could care less about boats. I hated the water. Whether it was swimming in it, sailing on top of it, or even just bathing in it, I hated it. So, it was only natural that my hatred towards water spread to boats as well.

“How’d the christening go?” Rick asked while he ran his hands over the wheel. His hands made my mother cringe. His skin was dry and covered with calluses, plus the jagged fingernails made it obvious that he didn’t care for manicures.

“Fine,” I answered as I watched him walk around on deck.

It was the third christening my father had had so I knew all the rituals. I name this ship Valerie and may God bless her and all who sail on her (no one ever understands how kinky that sounds). And then they’d pop the champagne, the cork aimed for the boat.