Nathaniel angrily threw the fishing tackle back into the box before restringing the pole. As he did, Carter cocked a brow at him sternly. “If this upsets you so much go find another place to work.”

“I don’t want to work at all.” He pouted. “This place smells like fish.”

“Quit being such a girl. This is a bait shop. We’re right on the water. Get over it.”

Nate huffed, looking out at the lake. His uncle lived on Kings Island, a very small spot of land in the great Lake Michigan at the thumb of Wisconsin. Compared to Lacross, where he was from, this tiny little speck was the most boring place on Earth. The island had about thirteen kids, only three of them his age and attending high school, and only one of them in his graduating class.

He didn’t really know much about the boy, other than what everyone knew. That he was deaf, and he lived on the island. He’d gotten to noticing that Simon wasn’t much of a talker. Whenever they stood at the dock, waiting for the ferry to come to take them to the mainland, Simon was always drawing in a sketchbook. He seemed a bit checked out, as Nate put it. He’d once tried talking to him, but Simon hadn’t noticed. Or if he did, he just ignored him.

“When you’re done organizing the tackles and stringing the poles, come organize the check in/out sheets,” Carter said, setting down a box full of mangled papers.

Nate cocked his head at the site. “It’s 2019, can’t you have them rent the equipment with a computer system or something?”

“No.” Carter crossed his arms and leaned against the wooden counter. “I have paper copies and electronic copies. Just organize the paper ones.”

“Are you serious? They don’t even matter anymore, do they?” Nate groaned, looking over the expired dates. They were from nearly two years ago. He knew for a fact records dating that long ago wouldn’t matter for something as stupid as bate and pole rentals. “Just throw it out.”

Carter pushed the box closer to him, his voice dropping a few octaves. “Organize them.”

He snatched the box up. “Fine.” He grumbled incoherent insults under his breath, taking a seat at the desk of the shop.

The shop itself was more or less a shack, with only their storage space held together with a roof. Considering people would only want to fish when it wasn’t raining or during winter, the shop was designed to serve its customers as if it were a booth. Due to the lack of space, Nate found it suffocating. It was about six feet long and five feet in width, but it still felt small to him.

As he organized the papers, fighting against the wind, a shadow cast over his work. He looked up and immediately frowned. “What do you want?”

“Is Carter in?” Simon asked, tugging at a bracelet around his wrist.

Nate sighed, getting up and turning around. At some point, Carter must have left. There weren’t very many places to hide in the bait shop. He turned back around. “He’s not in.”

“Oh. Do you know when he’s coming-”

“Look, I don’t know anything and I have to get this stupid thing done so I can leave. Go be annoying someplace else.”

Simon took in a deep breath. “He has to be around here somewhere, right? I mean, he didn’t leave you alone in the shop. He’d never do that-”

“Christ you’re talking a lot.”

Simon bit down on his lip. “I need to talk to Car-”

Nate jumped forward, grabbed the hearing aid from Simon, and pulled it out. “There. Shut up.” He tossed it under the desk on a shelf.

For a moment, Simon just stared at him. No one had taken his hearing aid like that since elementary school. It actually baffled him. “H-hey-” The sound was muddled. As if he were speaking under water. “Give it back.”

“You talk pretty well without it,” Nate noticed, not bothering to look up at him. “I heard you can still hear without it.”

“Give it back.”

Nate chuckled, amused by this. “Say more stuff." He set his pen down and looked at Simon. "It’s difficult to tell, but you sound a little off. It’s funny.”

Simon glared at him. He thought this was funny? Simon closed his fist, wincing at the pain around his sore wrist, and took a step back. Now he couldn’t leave. “Give me back my hearing aid.”

Nate let out a belting laugh, one that Simon heard almost clearly. He grabbed onto the wooden desk as to not lose balance on his chair. “You sound so stupid!”

Suddenly the door to the back swung open. “What the hell are you doing!” Carter demanded. He dropped the rope he was carrying and walked over to the window. “Simon?”

“He took my hearing aid.”

“What?”

“Hahaha, oh my God, are you listening to him talk?” Carter hit his head. “Ow!”

“Where is it?”

He rubbed the sore spot on his head. “Where’s what?”

“The hearing aid.”

“Here.” He reached under the counter and tossed it onto the counter.

Carter glared at him, taking it and handing it back to its owner. “You think that's funny? Do you have any idea how expensive those are? You want to rack up your bill with more property damage? ‘Cause I’ll have you working in the diner too, understand?”

“Fine.” Nate rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t going to break it. I just set it down.”

“Are you a child? Don’t take things that aren’t yours.” Carter shifted his attention to Simon. “Did you need to talk to me?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I just… have a question.”

“Alright.”

Simon glanced at Nate, clearing his throat, “Can we step over there?” He pointed in a random direction that wasn’t occupied by Nate.

“Sure, yeah, of course.” Carter opened the side door. “Watch the shop, okay?”

Nate saluted him. “Sure thing Captain.”

He watched as the two went to the side, right to where the path curved upward towards the island. He wondered how the two knew each other. For how long, and what Simon was so desperate to talk to his uncle about.

As the two talked, Carter reached up and rubbed the back of his head. A nervous habit Nate noticed he did only when he was in a tight spot. He’d done the same thing when my mother showed up at his house in the rain holding a duffle bag in her hand and dragging me along with the other.

The two turned back towards the shop.

Carter knocked his knuckles against the wood as if trying to jinx something, and looked Nate dead in the eye. “Want to do me a favor?”

“Depends.” Nate leaned back and crossed his arms. “Is this a ‘by your own free will’ or a ‘I’m adding it to the prepayment of your sunken mustang’?”

“I’ll clear you for half if you do this.”

Nate’s eyes lit up. “Well, what is it?”

"In your room, in one of the shelves in the desk, is an unused sketchbook. I want you to get it."

"Huh? Why?"

"Because Simon would like to have it."

Nate chuckled. "Why do you have a sketchbook?"

"It was Abby's. She decided not to use it so we've got an extra one no one is using."

"Why do I have to get it?"

"Because I'm not leaving you alone at the shop and I figured you wouldn't want Simon rummaging around in your room."

He got annoyed. "It's for Simon? Can't he get it later?"

Simon stepped forward, still playing with the bracelet, and added, "I need it for an art class in a few minutes."

"Can't you skip it? Or buy yourself a new book?"

Carter groaned. "Why are you making a big deal out of this? Go to the house and find the book and give it to him."

Nate sighed exaggeratedly. He weighed the pro of this. He'd be able to leave the tiny Nate shop for a walk. He got to his feet. "Fine."

"Thanks." Carter switched spots with Nate quickly.

"No problem. Half, right?" He clarified.

Carter nodded. "Yup. Half."