One does not make life-altering decisions based on a single, solitary make-out session, especially when I’d been kissing Duane thinking he was Beau.

Maybe, I reasoned, Duane wasn’t a great kisser. Maybe I’d built the whole thing up because I’d been working under a mistaken identity misconception.

I told myself that these bizarre cravings would disappear just as quickly as they’d encroached upon my sanity. I told myself that tomorrow everything would be back to normal. Duane was irritating, challenging. Beau was nice. Even if my obsessive crush for Beau never resurfaced, my strange surge of feelings for Duane were likely fleeting.

I had a plan and my momma hadn’t raised me to be stupid. End of story.

“Jess…”

I stiffened at the whispered sound of my name and was surprised to find him so close. Standing straighter, I turned, offering him my profile. I must’ve been so lost in my head I didn’t hear his final approach.

“Hey,” I whispered back, then frowned, glancing at him. “Wait, why are we whispering?”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he walked slowly forward and reduced the space between us. I could tell by his outline that he was shirtless. This revelation elicited a barely contained moan because, dammit, I wanted to touch him again.

I turned completely just as he stopped two feet from my position.

He blurted, “Jess, can we…can I…?”

I listened as he abruptly paused then released a loud breath; he sounded frustrated. I couldn’t see his face so I had no idea what his intentions were or what he was thinking. I waited a beat for him to complete his thought. Five seconds turned into twenty, the quiet broken only by owls hooting in the distance, the wind through the trees, and the gentle lapping of the lake against the water’s edge.

I sensed that he moved, and a moment later I felt his hand brush against mine. Already taut with nerves and my continuing internal boxing match, I flinched away from his touch, mostly because it was unexpected.

At my involuntary reaction he shifted a step back and pulled his hands through his hair. I don’t know why I felt embarrassed, but I did. Maybe because I wanted to grab his hand, not recoil from it. But then, how pathetic was I?

He’d just kissed another girl—one he had history with and might be dating—right in front of me, no more than ten minutes ago.

Less than five hours ago, he’d pretended to be his brother and I’d held his penis in my hand. I’d stroked it for hootenanny’s sake! I’d given him a penis stroke under false pretenses. I should be running in the opposite direction. Instead I was girl-stupid for a guy who thought I was a brat.

He was right, of course. I was a brat sometimes. But I didn’t want him to think I was a brat.

I cleared my throat, sought the steadiness of the hemlock tree at my back, and said, “Let’s get this over with.”

I reached for the hem of my dress and pulled it over my head, folding it for no reason in particular and placing it at the roots of the tree. Next I unclasped my bra, hesitated for just a split second, then dropped it on top of the dress.

At this point I stopped because I heard the sound of Duane undoing his zipper and my belly filled with lava. Hot, hot, hot molten lava. My body tensed and braced. I didn’t realize it at first, but I was holding my breath. I strained my ears and listened as he pushed the fabric of his pants down to his ankles, then bent to remove them completely.

He was now naked.

Meanwhile my thumbs were hooked in my panties, and now I was a frozen, chaotic river of lava. I wasn’t sure if I was actually capable of movement while Duane was naked. It felt…dangerous.

He cleared his throat and I saw by his outline that his hands were on his hips. “You can leave your underwear on, if you want.”

I’ll admit, I was staring at the region of his pelvic area before he spoke, hoping against hope that my untapped superpower of night vision would suddenly reveal itself. Alas, it was too dark and all I saw was shadow. I tore my eyes away from his midsection and lifted them to his face. I could just make out the stars reflecting his glittery eyes.

I shook my head, expelling my breath, his offer spurring me into movement. “No, you said skinny-dipping. I don’t want you crying foul later.”

“I wouldn’t.”

I made no response.

“Jessica, I wouldn’t,” he pressed.

“I don’t believe you,” I countered quietly, giving him my back as I pulled my underwear down my legs, laying them on the rest of the pile.

The hairs on the back of my neck prickled. Though I couldn’t see well in the dark, I suspected he could see just fine. This thought drove me suddenly forward, toward the lake, my arms covering my breasts. I made it to my stomach before I stopped, trying to catch the breath driven out of me by the abrupt, icy submersion. The lake was colder than a witch’s tit, and I was now freezing. My body gave a convulsive shake and my brain screamed, What are you doing?? Don’t you know this lake is near freezing? You’ve lost your mind!

All that molten lava of confusion and upheaval had been replaced with survival instinct and repulsion for the frigid water. I guess it’s true what’s said about cold showers.

The sound of a splash and a string of curses signified Duane’s foray into the water. I urged my feet to move, but they wouldn’t. I was so cold. My teeth chattered and my shoulders shook.

Then I felt him behind me, hovering. And when I say I felt him behind me, I mean his front was so close to my back I felt the heat of his skin. The water was a smidge warmer, though we weren’t touching.

“Is this f-f-far enough?” I asked, annoyed with myself for being too much of a chicken to venture farther.

“Jessica, I have to tell you something.”

I bunched my shoulders, holding myself tighter. His hot breath spilling over my neck paired with the autocratic tone of his voice made me shiver.

“Go right ahead. We got fifteen m-m-minutes to kill.”

I felt the water around my stomach swirl just as he closed the remaining inches between us, his chest hitting my upper back, his groin my bottom. I stiffened then tried to move away, but one arm wrapped around my shoulders, the other around my ribcage above the water, holding me in place.

“Jess, this lake is so fucking cold. Please just let me hold you.”

“W-w-well, this w-w-was your idea.”

“I know. And I don’t regret it, but shut up for a minute so I can tell you something.”

I huffed. “Don’t tell me to shut up.”

“Sorry—I’m sorry, you’re right. I shouldn’t have said that. It’s just I’m so cold I think I’m losing my mind.”

If my teeth weren’t chattering so hard I think I would have smiled. “F-f-fine. Go ahead.”

“Jess.” His fingers dug into my skin and his arms tightened on my body. “Tina and I aren’t together anymore. I ended things with her for good months ago.”

I nodded stiffly, not wanting to acknowledge, even to myself, that these words pleased me.

He continued, “Now, you and I, we’ve known each other since we were kids.”

I leaned into him, and admitted inwardly that I was very glad he’d decided to hold me.

When he spoke next, his words were rushed and they sounded rehearsed. “You’ve never liked me much and I get why, I do. But we’re not kids anymore. You’ve been gone for four years, off to college, and now you’re back, doing good work at the school. You’re different, you’ve changed, and I’m different now too, a business owner. I think it’s time we call a truce and start over.”

I blinked into the darkness, trying to process his words, and noticing suddenly—now that we were motionless—how the stars were reflected back at the sky by the surface of the lake. If we held perfectly still, it was like being in the center of space, stars above, stars below. I tilted my head backward unthinkingly and it fell against Duane’s shoulder, resting there as I gazed at the heavens.

It took him about a half minute, but then he dipped his head and pressed his cheek against mine.

“I’m glad you agree,” he whispered into the silence, apparently taking my small action as agreement. His lips moved against me as he spoke, his beard tickling the sensitive skin of my neck.

Despite myself I laughed lightly, because even though I was freezing, I could appreciate the bizarreness of the situation. Here I was, standing in a near-freezing lake with Duane Winston, oddly enjoying myself. The last time we’d been alone together in a body of water, it was the river behind his house over the summer of my fourteenth year. I’d de-panted him and thrown his swimsuit in a tree. Now we were both de-panted and freezing.

Nothing about it made any sense. I needed it to make sense, so I asked him to explain it to me.

“Duane, you remember when we were kids? And we used to argue about everything? I mean, it didn’t matter what it was. If I said the sky was blue you would say it was purple.”

“Sometimes the sky is purple. Right now it’s indigo, almost black. You can’t just make a unilateral statement that the sky is blue.”

“See? This is what I’m talking about. I don’t know if we can call a truce. All we know how to do is argue.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”