Holden Peters expects nothing exciting to happen during the summer before his final year of high school. But in a spontaneous act of bravery, he saves his pretty next door neighbour from drowning and is deemed as a local hero.
Thanks to his newfound...
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We arrived at the lake around eight. It was agreed and arranged that Quinton would drive us there and I would drive us back.
In other words, my friends made no promises to stay sober.
As soon as the vehicle was in park, Tess threw her door open and climbed out, spreading her arms and tipping her head back.
"I smell a good night, boys!" she announced, inhaling deeply.
Quinton grinned as he pulled the keys out and tossed them to me for safe keeping. Then we followed her out, carefully making our way down from the car park and down the grass slope until we hit the sand. As soon as we reached the blanket of grains, Tess kicked her thongs off and went racing towards the barbecue to see what was sizzling on the grill, followed by Quinton who went hunting for the esky.
I stayed back and scanned the gathering of familiar faces. Most of the early crowd consisted of high schoolers, loitering around the sand in small groups, exchanging greetings and occasionally, a picture. Music blasted from the back of a four wheel drive; a steady, beat that would suffice until more people arrived and were intoxicated with alcohol.
The fire sat within a good hearing range of the speakers. Logs split in half were situated around the flames, close enough to admire the flickering tongues but far enough that couples wouldn't get caught alight if they were in the middle of a game of tonsil hockey and got careless. So far, there was only one couple sitting by the fire. They only seemed to be talking, but ten bucks was on the table to bet they'd be sucking face before the night was over.
Quinton appeared by my side then, a beer in his hands. He brought the bottle up and took a generous swig of his stale beverage. Then, he caught sight of what I was looking at and an obnoxious grin spread out across his face.
"You know, you'd score more girls if you overcame your creepy habit of just watching them," he advised. "And I'd suggest going for single ones."
"Thanks, man," I replied sarcastically.
He slapped me on the back. "That's what friends are for. Speaking of stalker-staring, what's the go with Flo? Status update?"
"We hung out this afternoon," I answered.
Quinton's eyebrows shot up. "And?" he pressed.
"And that's it," I said, lifting a shoulder in a what-else-is-there-to-say way.
"Bummer, bro."
"We nearly kissed though," I said, which sparked Quinton's interest again. "There was definitely a seriously passionate five seconds of intimacy."
"Meaning you thought about pulling a move but chickened out," he concluded, reading me like a freaking book. This was why he was my best mate.
"Didn't want to freak her out, you know?" I said, shrugging slightly.
