The first night this year was especially nice. We went to bed at a normal time maybe midnight and we weren’t getting called down by our parents every five minutes as they hang out and have a couple drinks. It was... chill. Both enjoyable and cool in the summer climate. Just a night to talk and catch up in that lulled “sleepover whisper” voice about life and feelings. I mentioned the thought I was actually willing to go out with him at night to see some people this year. “Hey I’ve got a bike now.” I hummed.

“Oh yeah?” He sat up in his bed from previously lying on his back and shot a stone cold glare to me on the floor, “Please tell me you brought it with you.”

“Of course I did,” I said it like he should’ve known, “we actually picked it up on our ride down here.” I yanked my arm out from under my body and tried bending my fingers hoping for a response but was met with a warm numbness. But instead was met with the flaming glitter of inactive nerves - pins and needles. Worst. Feeling. Ever.

He laughed and his sheets krinkled softly as he laid down again, “Niceeee.” There was a short pause. “You wanna take it out tomorrow night?”

I whispered a snicker, “I didn’t bring it for nothing!”

Chris and I’ve been best friends since he moved to town in elementary school from Maryland. I actually found out he moved from Maryland because he used to talk about his old cat he had when he lived there. How it used to attack him all the time, birthing a fear of my sweet harmless kitty. Sometimes we have this bucket list for the two weeks I’m there, like stay up till 6:00 am, or do a stunt like a backflip of the Glassy Waters cliff. That’s what we call this one spot at Crystal Lake - where there’s a big rope swing off a rocky cliff, I’d say maybe 15 feet high with a straight drop down, and water as calm and clear as a glass window pane stuck wall. But I added something new to the list. “I kind of want to meet a girl.” I muttered with a smile.

This time he sat up quick, “You want to what?” he sounded kind of shocked but followed it up with a, “I couldn’t hear what you said?”

“Oh I said I want to meet someone, a girl maybe,” I began trailing. “Someone I can get to know.” a pause, “You know?”

“Ah I see I see.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh-huh.” I could tell by how he said it he was smiling, although I never knew for sure because the lights were off and the curtains were drawn tight, unyielding of any moonlight light trying to pry its way into the room. “I actually was thinking about someone you’d really like just a few days ago.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, she’s got a guy whos interested in her, but she hates him.”

“Who is he?” I involuntarily puffed my chest out a bit to seem tough like I could take him no matter what.

Chris laughed as he layed back down, “it’s Jacob.”

Of course it was. Jacob was one of Chris’ Cape friends. They weren’t really “friends.” Chris just hung around him to try being a good person and including of all people. But none of our real cape friends really cared for Jacob. He wasn’t fun - a pathological liar, mean spirited, and kind of a bully because, in reality, Jacob was a big kid. Bigger than the rest of us, so we couldn’t really kick him out of the group at this point in fear of retaliation. In reality Jacob was a big kid, not muscular and strong just kind of, fat. I settled in my sleeping bag and joked, “okay so in other words: no competition?” I’d like to think of myself as an above average guy, I can play the guitar a bit and am in alright shape. I run a lot in the mornings before school and eat pretty healthily. And on top of that I get good grades.

Chris and I talked a bit more that night and he said in the next few days he’d chat with the girl, Rosie was her name, and talk me up to her. She was interested pretty quick and asked Chris for my number and coincidentally Rosie and I started talking more and more. By halfway through the second week we’d gotten pretty familiar and I actually did really like her as a person, and Chris was right about both of us. He was right that he thought Rosie would like me, and that I’d like her. All for the same reasons: same ideas in music, looks, she was one of the nicest and funniest people I’d met in a while. And on top of all that, she was musical too. She could play the piano really well, or so Chris told me. It was as if we were perfect for each other, of course, we lived minus the fact we were hours apart from each other. The three of us made plans to meet up late at night on the third to last day I was there. Chris invited Rosie and about a dozen other of our friends we’d been hanging out with that week to go to Glassy Waters one night.

Now I don’t know exactly who told Jacob that he was invited, or that I’d been talking to Rosie, but he showed up. He rolled in on his scooter he (terribly) spray painted to be black and silver and skidded to a stop as the scooter buzzed and tooted by the trees and brush. A thin path of bubbly smoke followed behind him about ten feet back and would catch up when he slipped to a stop. He hobbled off and threw his mohawk spiked helmet to the ground with a subtle crack in the plastic. “Now the party can start!” he coughed. A fog of irritation and gloom waved over us demonstrated by eye rolls and visual groans. This was supposed to be the night I try really getting close with Rosie. I thought she had similar ideas, but now she wouldn’t try anything with Jacob around. Chris and I tried talking sense into the group to just relax while he was wrangling with the scooter to try leaning it on a tree. We asked him to keep it chill or he’d have to leave to which he replied with a threat and said, “this is public property, I could just as well ask you guys to leave.” Which he was technically right, so we lost that argument.

“Well, I think Chris and I are gonna play some music right Chris?” I looked at him wide-eyed and almost threatful.

“Oh, uh... right?” Chris hesitated, as if he wasn’t sure that was the answer I wanted. I couldn’t think of another way to try getting Rosie’s attention while Jacob would be all over her unless I was playing something with Chris, “so maybe try to be respectful okay?”

“Woah you guys are lame,” Jacob disregarded what I said completely, “anyone got any eats to share with me?”

I leaned in to Chris and said, “thank god you knew where I was going. I want to try playing a song for Rosie, are you following?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, do you know the song ‘Fast Enough for you’?” That was a complete shot in the dark, I had a backup song already in mind totally doubting he’d know what I was actually talking about, but to my surprise, he knew it. It was what Rosie told me her favorite song was. And coincidentally I also loved the song. Chris and I agreed we could both sing certain parts. A big risk on my part, I’d never sung in front of anyone but family. But I’d played instrumental things for people, or played guitar while someone else covered the vocals for me.

I broke out my dad’s guitar from the backpack-esque guitar case it was in, the kind where you can strap on your back, from the bike ride here, and began the opening to the song. Our friends all got quiet and turned their heads to Chris and I sitting on a tree stump about as wide as an eighteen wheelers tire. While playing the opening I looked at Rosie who was right next to me for a split second, and Chris began the song. While playing anything I always go into a kind of hypnotic state and float away, and because of this I don’t even know how well we played the song. We finished, and well, Rosie leaned in to kiss me. I was completely blindsided and shocked. I could only enjoy the thought for a moment, as I really was blindsided by Jacob with a blunt and dead branch. See, in his mind, he was in his own relationship with Rosie and was trying to get me off her. “We didn’t even kiss!” I howled as I tumbled a whole body’s length off the stump, while splinters from the cracked branch rained all around me. The guitar flew out of my hands, the wood  backing and flattop splintering with each overturn as it tumbled like a log rolling down a hill. Strings snapping and twanging out of the tuners creating a chaotic symphony. “He felt heavier than he looked,” was the only thing going on in my mind as I tried breaking his crushing grasp on me, blocking my airway for a second. I broke free and scrambled to my feet. I shouted to Chris to, “get on your bike!” as I sprinted towards the rope swing that hung off the edge. I stopped about ten feet from the cliff’s edge as Jacob straggled behind chasing me, louder thumps with every step as he got closer. At this point everyone had ditched Glassy Waters and ran to their own longboards and bicycle. As Jacob neared, I jumped off the edge toward the rope and held on for dear life. I swung back and kicked him square in the chest as air whistled out of his lungs. Complete luck actually, looking back none of this was on purpose or thought out at all it was just a knee jerk reaction of complete terror of a giant trying to kill me. He tumbled back and if he wasn’t already out of breath from chasing his prey he was now. I jumped off the rope onto the crunchy sandy land as he was belly down in the dirt trying to get up. Chris had my bike propped up with Rosie already sitting on handlebars. I ran towards the bike leaving the guitar behind and we skidded from sliding on the sandy ground and out onto the road. I looked back to make sure Jacob got up and was recovering, which he was, he was actually just picking up the guitar pieces and putting them in the case as we rounded the corner leaving the area of the cliff’s edge.

We dropped Rosie off at her house and she gave me a kiss on the cheek and thanked  Chris and I for playing her favorite song and said she hoped to see us again soon. She also said she was leaving for a family trip around 10:00 am the next day.  Chris and I rode home in a blissful silence. I was silently wondering about jacob. I felt bad, I imagined what he was going through. That night we fell asleep quick after quietly talking about how fun the night was before Jacob got there. I never actually slept though. I made sure Chris was out cold before going back out. I remembered where Jacob lived from the previous year. He wasn’t always mean, we went to his house for a few days the prior year and had a lot of fun. Guess he just fell out of the social circle and went all bully mode. I went to his house and knocked on his window just to say sorry. I prayed he wouldn’t sock me in the face when he saw me.

He opened the window, “What do you want,” he sounded defeated, kind of angry with a grunt in his voice, but also sad.

“I just wanted to apologize, I shouldn’t have interfered with your efforts with Rosie. I live four hours north anyway, there’s no way I can ever even see her after tonight. Im sorry.”

“It’s alright man. It’s my fault anyway. Maybe tonight was a sign to change for the better. I have your guitar if you want it.” The guitar! I forgot about the guitar! My dad’s gonna kill me! “It’s a little cracked but I have everything in the bag.”

I tweaked and twitched with terror as I reached out for the bag he handed me. “Thanks. Hopefully things work out well for you.” I was using all my strength to hold back my screams of fear from my dad for when he found out about the shattered instrument. We’d just put new strings on it too...

I biked home through the muggy and thick summer air, propped the bag of what was left of the guitar up in the kitchen and crawled into bed. I looked at the digital clock and it read, 3:42 am. Nice, I thought to myself, a real all nighter. I crashed into a deep and silent sleep. I didn’t dream that night. It was just a dark and silent state of bliss.

I woke up to my dad’s booming voice from downstairs, “What happened to my guitar!?!” I wanted to jump out the second story window right then and there and run and never turn back. But I decided i’d pretend to stay asleep, so I shut my eyes and hoped for the best. These weeks were the best few weeks of that summer, maybe my even my life. Meeting new people, getting my first “kiss,” if ones on the cheek even count, and getting into my first “fight.” Maybe breaking the rules sometimes gets you to really live? I couldn’t complain.