12. Alex

ALEX

THEN – FRESHMAN YEAR – MARCH

I ’m pretty sure I’m allergic to fun. Or at least, that’s what I tell myself as I stand at the edge of Lake Violet, where half of UMS seems to have gathered to take advantage of this freakishly warm March weekend. While most people are off hiking the trails or rock climbing, I’m here eyeing the kayaks bobbing in the water like brightly colored torture devices. The sun beats down with unexpected intensity for early spring, turning the lake into a mirror that reflects my own terrified face back at me.

Everyone’s gone a little crazy with the surprise summer-like weather, desperate to shake off the winter blues. The parking lot is packed, music drifts across the water from portable speakers, and the smell of sunscreen fills the air. I’d rather be inside working on my lab reports, but Tara insisted we couldn’t waste a sixty-degree day in March. Colorado weather is notoriously unpredictable—tomorrow, it could be snowing again.

“Come on, Lexie! The water’s not going to bite,” Freddie calls out, already waist-deep and grinning like a kid on Christmas morning.

I force a smile that probably looks more like a grimace. “Yeah, but the fish might. Or the bacteria. Or the?—”

“Alien lake monsters?” Ethan chimes in, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Don’t worry, I hear they only eat people who can’t paddle.”

From her perch on a beach towel, Tara gives me a thumbs-up. “You’ve got this, Alex! Show that lake who’s boss!”

Easy for her to say. She’s sitting this one out, claiming a twisted ankle from her last Zumba class. But I suspect she’s just here for the picnic Troy put together. Her brother is seriously a great cook. Much better than Tara, whose culinary repertoire is limited to mac and cheese and grilled cheese. The girl loves her cheese and carbs, and who can blame her?

“If you’re done stalling,” Alfie’s quiet voice cuts through my thoughts, “some of us would like to actually get in the water today.”

I feel my cheeks heat up. Alfie’s intense gaze makes me feel like I’m single-handedly responsible for melting the polar ice caps. He’s the only one of Freddie’s friends I haven’t really bonded with. He’s handsome—devastatingly so if you like that brooding, moody type. But he’s so intense and unfriendly that I don’t know how to act around him. Freddie says he just takes some time to warm up to people, which might be true, but to me, it seems like he takes decades.

“Give her a break, Alf,” Troy pipes up, checking the straps on his life vest for the third time. “Not everyone’s born with your natural bravery.”

As they bicker, Freddie wades back to shore, holding out his hand. “Trust me?” he asks, his hazel eyes twinkling with mischief.

My hand instinctively reaches for Emma’s pendant. The familiar silver leaf, cool against my palm, helps ground me.

I hesitate for a moment, then take his hand. It’s warm and calloused, steady as he guides me into the cool water. “If I drown, I’m coming back to haunt you,” I warn him.

“Noted,” he chuckles. “Though I think ghost-you would probably just lecture me about the environmental impact of my sunscreen on lake ecosystems.”

“Oh God,” I groan, “I really am that predictable, aren’t I?”

“Predictably passionate,” he corrects, helping me into the front of the kayak before sliding in behind me. “You’re safe, Lexie. I’ve got you.”

As I settle into the kayak, wobbling like a newborn giraffe, I can’t help but wonder how I ended up here. A year ago, I was content with my books and my solitary mission to save the planet. Now, I’m in a lake, practically in Freddie’s lap, surrounded by people I truly care about. Even Alfie, though he might grumble about it.

The thought is equal parts thrilling and terrifying. Kind of like this kayak, which seems determined to flip us into the lake at the slightest provocation.

“Ready?” Freddie asks, his breath warm in my ear as he reaches around me to grab the paddle.

I take a deep breath, gripping the paddle like a lifeline. “As I’ll ever be.”

As we paddle out, I’m acutely aware of Freddie’s presence behind me. His chest is close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating off him, and I catch the faint scent of his sunscreen. It’s distracting, to say the least.

“You’re doing great, Lexie,” he encourages, his voice low and close to my ear. I suppress a shiver that has nothing to do with the cool water splashing against my arms.

“Thanks,” I manage, focusing intently on my paddling technique. Left, right, left, right. Don’t think about Freddie. Left, right, left ? —

“Heads up, lovebirds!” Ethan’s voice breaks through my concentration. “Race you to the buoy!”

Before I can protest, Freddie shouts back, “Ha! Lexie is my paddle minion; she’s the powerhouse of this kayak.”

I feel my face flush crimson. Paddle minion? Really, Freddie? I resist the urge to elbow him in the ribs, reminding myself that tipping us both into the lake probably isn’t the best idea.

“Oh, is that what the kids are calling it these days?” Troy hoots, paddling past us with a wicked grin.

“Ignore them,” Freddie chuckles, his breath warm on my neck. “What do you say, Lex? Ready to show these clowns how it’s done?”

I hesitate for a moment. My natural instinct is to play it safe, to hang back and avoid any more embarrassment. But there’s something about the energy on the lake, the sun on my skin, and yes, even Freddie’s infectious enthusiasm, that makes me want to take a risk.

“Let’s do it,” I grin, surprising myself.

We fall into a rhythm, our paddles slicing through the water in perfect sync. It’s exhilarating—the wind in my hair, the spray on my face. For a moment, I forget to be afraid, forget to overthink. I just…am.

We’re gaining on Ethan and Troy, the gap closing with each stroke. I can hear Tara cheering from the shore, her voice carrying across the water. Even Alfie, sitting next to her, seems to be getting into the spirit, his normally expressionless face showing a hint of a smile.

We’re neck and neck now, the buoy tantalizingly close. Ethan’s shouting something about unfair advantages, while Troy laughs so hard he can barely steer straight.

In our excitement, we lean a bit too far to one side. I feel the kayak start to tip, my heart leaping into my throat.

“Freddie!” I yelp, panic setting in.

His arm is around my waist in an instant, steadying me, steadying us. “I’ve got you,” he says, his voice calm and sure. “We’re okay.”

We right ourselves, but his arm lingers a moment longer than strictly necessary. I’m hyper-aware of the warmth of his skin against my damp t-shirt, the gentle pressure of his hold.

The moment is broken by a splash and a string of colorful curses. Ethan, in his haste to win, has managed to capsize his kayak. Troy is doubled over with laughter, barely staying upright himself.

As Ethan splutters and flails, trying to right his kayak, I can’t help but join in the laughter. It bubbles up from somewhere deep inside, a place I didn’t even know existed anymore. It feels good. It feels…free.

“See?” Freddie says, his voice filled with mirth. “Best paddle assistant ever.”

I roll my eyes, but I’m grinning too hard to really be annoyed. “Keep it up, and you’ll be swimming back to shore,” I threaten, but there’s no real heat behind it.

“Well, I guess that’s one way to cool off.”

I turn to look at him, still giggling. His hair is damp and tousled, his eyes bright with mirth. For a moment, our gazes lock, and I feel a jolt of…something. Something that both thrills and terrifies me.

“Yeah,” I manage, my voice a bit breathless. “I guess it is.”

We paddle over to help Ethan, who’s still splashing around like an angry cat in a bathtub.

“Need a hand there, Michael Phelps?” Freddie calls out, barely containing his laughter.

Ethan glares at us, his hair plastered to his forehead. “I had it under control,” he grumbles, grabbing onto the side of our kayak.

“Oh yeah, totally,” I deadpan. “I’m sure the fish were very impressed with your backstroke.”

Freddie snorts, and a thrill runs through me at making him laugh. Who knew I could be funny?

After a lot of maneuvering (and plenty of colorful curses from Ethan), we finally get him back into his kayak. By the time we’re done, we’re all soaked and breathless from laughing.

“All right, you comedians,” Troy calls out. “How about we take a break? I’m starving.”

Troy paddles with effortless ease, looking like he just stepped out of a college recruitment brochure with his perfect blonde waves and megawatt smile. The genetic lottery was definitely kind to the Hawkins siblings.

We paddle back to a small, secluded cove where Tara is waiting with a cooler full of sandwiches and drinks. As I clamber out of the kayak, legs wobbly from sitting so long, Freddie’s hand steadies me.

“Thanks,” I mumble, hyper-aware of his touch.

“Anytime.” He grins, and my heart does a little somersault.

We sprawl out on the rocky shore, munching on sandwiches and basking in the sun. It’s nice—really nice. I can’t remember the last time I felt this relaxed, this content.

“So, Alex,” Alfie says, breaking the comfortable silence. “You’re liking Environmental Science? I’m a Geology major, so I took some of the same modules as you last year. What made you choose it?”

I swallow, caught off guard by Alfie’s question. “Oh, um…” I start, buying time. How do I explain without sounding like a total nerd?

But then I catch Freddie’s eye. He gives me an encouraging nod, and suddenly, I find my voice.

“I’ve always loved nature,” I begin, surprised by the strength in my voice. “But it’s more than that. I saw how things were changing—forests disappearing, animals going extinct, weather getting more extreme. And I just... I couldn’t sit by and do nothing, you know?”

I pause, waiting for eye rolls or dismissive comments. But none come.

Just then, Freddie’s phone buzzes. He glances at it and frowns. “Sorry, guys, I gotta take this. Be right back.” He steps away from the group, phone pressed to his ear.

“That’s awesome,” Troy says sincerely. “We need more people who give a damn.”

“Totally,” Ethan chimes in. “Though I gotta ask—how do you feel about the new development they’re planning for the old factory site? The one by the river?”

And just like that, we’re launched into a heated discussion about urban development versus environmental preservation. Surprisingly, Ethan is all for the development, arguing for job creation and economic growth.

I feel my pulse quicken, a familiar fire igniting in my chest. “We can’t let that happen,” I say, my voice stronger than I expected. “That area is home to several endangered species, including the golden-cheeked warbler and the Houston toad. The ecosystem there is incredibly fragile.”

I pause, taking a breath, then continue. “The proposed development would destroy critical habitat. We’re talking about irreversible damage to biodiversity. Not to mention the impact on water quality in the river. Once we lose these species and ecosystems, we can’t get them back.”

The group falls silent, seemingly taken aback by my passionate outburst. My cheeks flush, wondering if I’ve said too much. But then Alfie nods approvingly, and Troy looks impressed.

Ethan, however, plays devil’s advocate. “But what about the jobs it would create?”

I’m about to launch into another impassioned speech when Freddie returns, his brow furrowed, jaw clenched. He shoves his phone into his pocket.

“Let’s be realistic,” he says, his tone sharp. “Yeah, change needs to happen, but forcing it too fast just hurts people and doesn’t actually help.”

I blink, taken aback by his sudden change in demeanour.

He continues, his voice dripping with distaste. “It’s all performative anyway. Like using a metal straw and thinking you’re saving the ocean.”

My cheeks burn as I glance down at my reusable cutlery set, the one I brought to avoid single-use plastics. Suddenly, I feel ridiculous.

Freddie goes on, seemingly oblivious to my discomfort. “What good does it really do? People lose their jobs, communities suffer, and for what? So some college kids can feel good about themselves?”

The air feels heavy, everyone shifting uncomfortably. I want to argue, to defend my beliefs, but the words stick in my throat. It’s like Freddie has personally attacked everything I stand for, and I don’t know how to respond.

Suddenly, Freddie turns to me, his eyes challenging. “Do you even know what they’re planning to build there, Lexie?”

I open my mouth, then close it again. I know I read about it somewhere, but my mind is blank. With everyone watching, I feel two inches tall. “I... well, it’s...”

“It’s a care home for the elderly,” Freddie says, voice flat. “So you’d rather old people die alone in their houses or without proper care? Is that what you’re saying?”

“What? No!” I sputter, feeling my face grow hot. “That’s not what I meant at all. You’re twisting my words!”

“Am I?” Freddie challenges, standing up. “Or are you realizing that maybe things aren’t as black and white as you thought?”

I feel like I’ve been slapped. “That’s not fair,” I protest weakly, but Freddie’s already walking away, frustration evident in every line of his body.

The group falls into an awkward silence. I sit there, hugging my knees to my chest, feeling small and stupid. My eyes start to burn, and I blink hard, refusing to cry over this. Over him.

Tara moves next to me and puts a hand on my back. “Hey, that wasn’t cool. He didn’t mean it, I’m sure.”

“Can we just—” my voice cracks, and I hate myself for it. “Can we just not?” I meet her eyes, silently begging her to understand.

Tara squeezes my shoulder and, because she’s the best friend I could ask for, immediately launches into a story about Troy’s disastrous attempt at making protein pancakes this morning. “I swear to God, the kitchen looked like a crime scene.”

“It was not that bad!” Troy protests, gratefully latching onto the change of subject.

I pull on my UMS hoodie like armor. Its familiar weight makes everything feel a little more manageable.

As they bicker, Alfie surprises me by shifting closer, his voice pitched low enough for only me to hear. “Hey, don’t take it personally. That was his dad on the phone earlier.”

I look up, startled. Alfie never voluntarily starts conversations, and now he’s started two with me in an hour.

“Things aren’t great at home,” he continues, fiddling with the label on his beer bottle. “His dad’s health is getting worse, and the medical bills…” He shrugs. “Freddie’s being a jerk, but he’s not himself right now. I promise you he doesn’t mean it. He’s a good guy.”

“Oh.” The word comes out small. I think about all the times Freddie’s mentioned his family, how his voice gets tight when he talks about his dad. He’s told me a little about their situation, how he feels he needs to help out, but I didn’t realize how bad it really is.

“Yeah.” Alfie stands, awkward now that he’s said his piece. “Just... give him some space. He’ll come around.”

As he walks away, I stare out at the lake, my mind whirling. I thought I knew where I stood on these issues, but now... Now I’m not so sure. Maybe Freddie’s right—maybe things aren’t as simple as I want them to be.

And the worst part? A tiny voice in the back of my mind wonders if he might be right. Am I just being performative? I mean, I’ve never been able to stick to veganism, and I know that’s best for the planet. I just can’t help craving a chicken burger every time my period hits.

Am I a total poser?