Jake
16 Years Old
I'm on the dock before five in the morning on a Saturday. Fresh air fills my lungs, my body moves on autopilot, and my muscles remember what to do. I've worked as a commercial fisherman with my dad, Alfred Kitt, since I was just a kid.
When I'm not at school, I'm on the boat or down at the docks helping him catch and haul fish for our family restaurant, The Walleye and Blue Fish Market and supply other local restaurants in Holtby, Minnesota, the nearest town. Our restaurant has been busy. Summertime finds our town of Visby, Minnesota, pumping with tourists, and the locals are hard at work to keep up with the endless crowds. I gather equipment, including a few nets, reels, and rods, as I feel proud of my dad. His constant desire to build a legacy and provide for his family is his most significant and honorable trait.
"Jake," I hear and turn to see him climbing off the boat.
"Yeah. I'm here," I call out.
He follows my voice and steps onto the dock, cradling a steaming mug of coffee in his hands. He's dressed heavily in a plaid jacket and a toque pulled down over his salt-and-pepper hair.
"You ready, son?" he asks, settling his cup down, and walks along the dock to greet me.
"I am," I tell him.
"Thanks for getting everything ready. You did well. Almost good enough for you to start going on your own."
My ears perk up, and my body stiffens. Did my dad suggest he would let me go commercial fishing on my own? I admire him so much. I've always tried to impress and show him I'm ready to be part of our family business. I'm stoked for him to suggest I lead an expedition at sixteen. I play it cool, though, poker-facing it like a champ.
"Really? You think?"
His characteristic grin is in place. My dad has always been the smiling kind, the positive guy, and he doesn't let me down. "If you keep up this kind of work ethic, you'll be out-working your old man in no time. You know I'm relying on you to take over this business and the restaurant one day. So far, so good, son. Next haul, you can go alone while I tend to some business matters in town."
"Wow, dad." I breathe, reaching down to grab a net. "I think I'd like that."
He snatches my cap from my head, messing up my blonde hair. "Come on, let's get fishing. We've got a lot of work to do this morning."
It's cold and windy on the lake. We fish all morning and haul in net after net of walleye, reeling our daily catch to bring back to shore. It brings a strong sense of satisfaction to accomplish a fishing trip. It's tough work, long hours and pays less well than it should. But this lifestyle and business have been in my family for generations. It's part of who I am. I love being on the water. I love being outdoors. Nothing is more serene than being in the middle of a lake, with a view for miles of blue and a tree line onshore so thick it stretches clear down the bank until it is no longer visible.
As my dad steers us back into town, I look at the harbour and force myself not to smile too wide. My girlfriend Charlotte Rivers, or as I call her, Charlie, is standing on the dock's edge in a pair of cut-off jean shorts and a white crop top. Thick blond hair frames her face, which she tucks behind her ears before she reaches a hand forward to wave in my direction. My dad looks back at me knowingly and chuckles to himself. I ignore his amusement with my infatuation with Charlie. I've loved her for as long as I could breathe. By high school, I had moved out of the friend zone and straight into her heart.
I'm practically a hometown hero.
Every guy in this town drools over the Rivers sisters, Charlotte and her twin sister Hailey. And even though Hailey is also beautiful, she's much different than Charlotte in many ways. They are fraternal twins and look vastly different from one another. Hailey has strawberry-blonde hair and a slight nose. She's curvier and a few inches taller than Charlotte. She's also more studious, obedient, quiet, and shy. She doesn't like to party as much as Charlotte and usually has her nose in a book. Charlotte, on the other hand - well, she's a little firecracker—a very feisty, impulsive, and sexy daredevil who will try anything once. Not even an anchor could hold her down. Her shiny blond hair, lightly freckled face and button nose make her easy on the eyes. When it comes to her big brown eyes, well, they warm my heart. And while every guy in this town may argue over which of the Rivers sisters is his favourite, my heart has always been with Charlotte.
Growing up, I watched her catch frogs with her bare hands and climb trees like a grizzly bear. She'd race me down a dirt road on our pedal bikes and have me hopping fences and causing mischief all over this town. She may look innocent and sweet as a peach, but she's far from it. From the moment I kissed her on this same fishing boat in ninth grade, I somehow managed to make her mine.
Every Saturday morning, rain or shine, she shows up at the dock to greet us. Her brown eyes sparkle in the sunlight, almost making them a golden hue, and when she smiles, the dimple on her left cheek nearly brings me to my knees - and the temptation of her full, flirty lips. I immediately think of jumping off this boat and swimming straight to her to place a kiss right on them.
"Great work today, Jake," my dad says as he hops onto the dock. He glances over at Charlotte and gives her a nod. "Good morning, darling."
"Good morning, Mr. Kitt," she responded ever so sweetly.
God. I want to kiss her so badly.
I'm still standing on the boat as she glances up at me. She absentmindedly bites down on her lower lip and stares at my mouth. The way she does that makes my skin hum. My dad continues to work while I stand at the bow, mesmerized as I watch her move in my direction. She hops onto the deck and glances down at nets full of fish.
"Woah," she whistles. "Looks like you've had a successful morning."
I can hear my dad chuckle from down below. "You sound impressed."
Charlotte nods. "I am," she pauses thoughtfully. "When can I tag along for one of your fishing trips?"
"It's too dangerous," he tells her. "Your father would kill me before he'd allow you to tag along. It ain't going to happen, darling."
She frowns. "I've been on your boats many times before."
Laughing, I tell her, "Commercial fishing isn't the same as going for a leisurely cruise to catch some walleye."
Her head tilted to the side, eyes suspicious, when she asked, "You don't think I could handle it, do you?"
"I never said that." I hold up my hands in surrender. "I agree with my dad. Your dad is some scary shit. I'm not willing to risk both of our lives so you could get a quick thrill."
Charlotte looks at me like she's ready to push me overboard, but I can tell she's a little amused. A smile lingers in her eyes, even if her brows are pulled together. "You're both just worried I'd show you up and I'd out-fish you."
Wiping a hand across my mouth, I say, "Why can't you ever take no for an answer."
She narrows her eyes further. "If you don't take me, I'll find someone who will. Besides, I wouldn't want to ride with you anyway. You always drive too slow."
My dad laughs again. Okay, so I'm a cautious driver. But I must be when I have precious cargo like Charlotte on board.
"Good luck," I sniff. "We are the only commercial fishermen north of Holtby. I always bring you fishing, just not on our longliner. You get the trawler."
She rolls her eyes. "The slowest boat ever."
"Okay, lovebirds," my dad's voice booms from the dock. "You need to get off my boat, Charlotte. We've got to unload."
"I can help," she says.
God, she is one persistent but sexy nuisance. I look over at my dad, expecting to see him frown with annoyance, but instead, a grin pulls at the corner of his lips.
"Okay, then. Start moving those nets to the other side of the boat and try not to knock anything over," he instructs her, raising a brow in my direction, "this helps us immensely."
I try not to laugh, covering my mouth with my hand. He's doing his best to occupy her with minuscule tasks while we do all the heavy lifting. Charlotte does as he says, eager as ever to help. He winks at me, and we unload and organize our catch. The morning passes quickly, and Charlie is a big help with the cleanup.
"Now what?" she asks, hopping off the boat onto the dock. She wipes her hands on the front of her jean shorts with a smile.
"Your job is done," I tell her. "I'll have to come by your place later tonight. I'll pick you up, and we can go out for dinner." I offered half-heartedly. She looks disappointed, and it causes my chest to tighten. "I'm sorry; I know we planned to hang out this afternoon, but I promised my dad I'd go with him to Holtby to deliver this haul to our customers."
"You never go with him, though," she pouted. "I thought we were going to spend the entire day together."
I glance over my shoulder to see my dad standing within hearing range a few feet from us. I lower my voice. "Yeah, but he's starting to involve me in running things."
"Okay," she says, pulling back just far enough to meet my eyes. She sounds disappointed, but she also understands how much my family and our business mean to me. "But, I expect you to pick me up in your truck no later than six o'clock, of course."
"Or we could walk. Every restaurant is a hop, skip, and a jump away."
She crosses her arms in front of her chest and gives me a scolding look. I didn't want to pick her up in my truck, not because everything in our town was within walking distance, but because I planned to surprise her by taking her to a place you can't get to by vehicle. I've been planning on giving her something special. I wished I could give it to her, but I had work to do.
"I like it when you pick me up in your truck because I don't have my driver's license yet," she leans forward, her mouth against my ear as she lowers her voice. "And you know how much I like when you let me drive down the backroads."
I know it's entirely illegal to allow her behind my wheel when she's still a few months away from her sixteenth birthday. But Charlie has a way of making me do pretty much anything, especially when she starts peeling her clothes off.
"Can I talk with you for a second, Jake?" my dad's voice makes me jump. He looks back and forth between Charlotte and me. "It will just take a second," he says, turning away.
"Ah, okay, sure."
I glance down at Charlie, like really looking at her. Like eyes moving up and down her body, in a way that makes me wish I hadn't promised my dad I would go with him this afternoon.
Charlotte waits patiently on the dock while I approach his backside. He turns to greet me.
"Isn't today the day?" he asks.
My face heats. He remembered. I told him that today was my and Charlotte's anniversary since we became official.
"Well, yeah," I pull off my cap and scratch the top of my head. "But I already told Charlie to go home so I could come to Holtby with you. I'll spend time with her tonight."
"I thought you planned a day trip to Bushell's Bay."
I waved him off, saying, "Yeah, but that's okay. We've got work to do -"
"You know what? I've been making the trek to Holtby by myself without you for years now," he smirks. "You can come next Saturday. Today, you stay here with Charlotte and do what you intended. There is always a next time."
"No -" I start, but he cuts me off by placing the keys to our speedboat in my hand's palm.
"Here," he says with a sly smile. "You heard the girl. Don't drive too slow."
My eyes widen. "Are you sure?"
Nodding, he studies me for a breath and then says, "I'm sure. But you only go to Bushell's Bay and then head back. No detours."
My dad and I are close, but we are not the hugging kind. So when I reach forward and hug him, I expect him to stiffen up a bit, but he doesn't. He hugs me back and ruffles my hair.
"Drive safely," he says and then turns to Charlotte. "See you later, darling," he calls out to her as he hops into his truck.
Charlotte looks confused but waves goodbye, and she watches him drive away. She turns to me with the broadest smile.
"What's going on?" she asks.
I wave the keys in the air. "He said I could stay back this time. Ready for a ride on the speedboat?"
Charlie squeals, wearing a playfully adorable expression. She runs in my direction and then jumps on top of me, wrapping her arms around my neck. Her legs swing around my waist. She kisses me on the lips, sending a shock of electricity across my skin and straight to my heart.
As we plow across the lake in the speedboat, I watch my speed and Charlotte at the bow. The wind caused her blonde hair to dance against her bare and freckled shoulders as she turned to give me a cheeky little grin. She leans against the edge of the bow and stretches her arms out. She laughs as she feels the rush of the wind and water droplets splashing against her skin. I watch her, mostly enjoying the view of her backside. She doesn't look a bit scared. Not one little bit. She laughs, loving the thrill and the freeing feeling it brings. Once satisfied, she slinks back onto the seat and smiles up at me.
The longer she stares at me, the more it feels like my heart may explode in my chest. She's always made me feel like I can do anything when she's with me. Without her, I would somehow be lost because, truthfully, she's always been my everything. My parents tell me I'm too young to know what love is, but I think they are wrong. Because all I've ever felt for Charlie is love.
She helps me anchor the speedboat onto an old rickety dock. There is no beach — just a gray, rocky shoreline of forest leading up to a vertical rock face. The Bay is private property and belongs to an older man in the next county. He never tends to the land, so Charlie and I have silently claimed it as our own. Bushell's Bay is a beautiful lookout with the most spectacular views. A spit stretches out in the distance, and a lighthouse is lonely and abandoned atop.
I inhale a calming breath of fresh air and watch the crashing waves' foamy crests split against the rocky shore.
"Come on, Jake."
I look over at her; I've hiked halfway up the cliffside. "Wait up, will you?"
"Maybe you should catch up with me instead."
She flashes me a coy smile and takes a few more steps backward, curling a finger at me. How could I possibly resist? I ran to catch up with her. And when I do, I wrap my arms around her waist and lift her off from the ground. She shrieks playfully and kicks her legs in the air. I place her back down on the ground, and she turns to face me, dark eyes wide. She leans forward and puts a quick kiss on my lips, moves behind me and hoists herself onto my backside for a piggyback ride.
Whenever we are together, we can't seem to keep our bodies from touching. Feeling Charlie's legs around my waist, body pressed against my backside, and her arms clutched firmly around my neck is intoxicating. I'd hike up Mount Everest with her attached to me like this if I ever had to. I'd do just about anything to feel her in my arms.
When we are steps away from the lighthouse, I place her gently onto the ground. We both stop momentarily and stare at the endless freshwater lake as it melds into the blue sky. She turned to face me and crossed the damp grass toward me, hair in a high ponytail and not an ounce of makeup. The wind whirls around, and seagulls squawk above us, but I can only focus on how Charlie has never looked so beautiful.
She leads the way up the rickety old lighthouse stairs we have climbed many times. Except this time, it feels different. I'm nervous. And I've never been shy around Charlie. We make it up to the circular deck, and I watch her jig the handle to open the glassed in-housing at the lighthouse's top. She pushes open the door like she has so many times before.
"Ready?" she says, stopping just before the doorway.
"Hardly." I meet her eyes again. "You're too beautiful for words. I feel like the luckiest guy on the planet."
"Which makes me the luckiest girl in the world."
My pulse hasn't calmed down since we got here. Relax, Jake. You can do this. You can tell her you love her.
I hand Charlie a box I pulled from my jeans' front pocket, and she looks at me, brows raised. "What's this?"
I swallow hard, not wanting to say too much too soon. "Just a little something, you know, since we've been together for a while now."
Slowly, she opened the box, and when she first saw what was inside, unshed tears threatened to fall from her eyes.
"Is this - "she pauses and takes a deep breath. Her warm, dark eyes find mine; all I can see behind them is love. "Is this ring for me?"
I nod and take a step forward. It's not a fancy ring, but it's special to me. It belonged to my dad's mother - my grandmother - and she left for him when she passed away. It's a plain gold band with a single circle-cut diamond. He gave it to me to pass along to my wife someday. I know Charlie isn't my wife; we are only teenagers, but I could never imagine a life without her. The only person I would ever want to have this ring would be Charlotte.
"I love it," she whispers.
"It belonged to my grandmother."
I take the ring from the box and slide it onto her finger.
"I'll take good care of it," she says and steps closer, closing her eyes when I slide my hand along her neck and into her hair. I know more than ever when she opens her eyes and looks up at me that Charlie will forever be the only girl for me.
I love her.
I immediately take her face in my hands, and she looks at me for a heavy, pounding heartbeat before I press my mouth on hers. As soon as we touch, her lips part slightly, and she exhales a quiet moan and then leans closer. The teasing slide of her tongue easily distracts me. But I still need to say what I came here to say. I pulled away from our kiss and whispered against her lips.
"I love this place." I take a deep breath and try to focus on getting words out, but it's tough when her hands are in my hair, and I want her so much I'm nearly wild. "You know I have dreams of buying Bushell's Bay one day and building our dream house here, overlooking the lake."
"I know," she rasps. She plays with the hem of my T-shirt and the waist of my jeans. Her fingertips are seeking and exploring as they've never done before. Her gaze catches mine, and the desire in her expression makes me feel shaky and fired up, like a caged animal. I'm ready to pounce. I can't hold back for another second, so I lean forward and kiss her again, groaning against her lips. She responds with these tiny, perfect moans of approval every time our lips collide. We increasingly kiss, my teeth grazing her lips, jaw, and neck. More sounds, and my voice raggedly moans, "I love you, Charlotte."
She looks up at me, almost like she is again on the verge of tears. "I love you too, Jake."
My heart swells. Hearing her say those three simple words back to me is a relief I can barely process. Being with her like this, in our favourite place, as she wears my grandmother's ring, knowing she loves me, I love her, makes me feel so sturdy. Like nothing in this world could ever tear us apart.
I can feel her heart pounding against my chest.
"Promise me you will always be mine," I whispered, kissing her gently.
Without a breath of hesitation, she answers, "Always."