“One, two, three, go!” V shouts, and everyone but me and Langston run to the pier and jump into the lake. The twins immediately begin arguing with their little sister, June, over who won the race.

From his spot, reading, Langston shouts that it was definitely June, even though he wasn’t watch. Then his sister, Alice, is chiming in that it definitely wasn’t.

Alice surprised me. She’s the barista I see all the time at Cake & Coffee. The one that keeps giving me free or reduced drinks with the occasional pastry. Seeing her next to Langston, I can see the resemblance.

The pity looks I was so angry about, the nosiness I accused her of in my mind, I think, maybe, it was her way of showing sympathy? I might’ve I misjudged her.

I awkwardly greeted her, but if she recognizes me outside of the café, I’m not sure.

Gage doesn’t participate in the argument. Instead, he’s floating on his back a little farther out. He’s wearing long sleeves still and a part of me itches with curiosity as to why. I have a guess, but I have to remind my morbid curiosity that its none of my business.

The twin’s family and Langston’s sister share the same sort of friendliness the rest of the group has. They’d done a brief introduction when I arrived, and I’d finally learned that V’s full name is Viola as her parents had laughed and said that she must’ve adopted me because of my name. I still don’t know G’s full name, though.

The twin’s stepmom, Tameka, was the first to pull me into a hug as I shuffled from foot to foot during introductions.

She’s mom in everything but blood, bio-mom hasn’t been around since G and I were, like, three, V had said. She only clarified because apparently people tended to look at them funny since Tameka’s a dark black to her and G’s very pale white that they share with their dad.

Tameka told me I was welcome to call her whatever I wanted, but I chose to go with the nickname everyone else uses, Meka.

Their dad, that everyone but the twins calls Sarge, is a little on the short side and has shaved his head similarly to G and Wade. I’m starting to think that has something to do with V’s baldness, but again, I don’t ask.

Meka has an interesting mix of long curls and about a third of her head shaved. The only one in the family with no shaved part of her head is their little sister June, who’s curls barely brush her shoulders.

“Are you going to swim?” Langston asks me, looking up from his book. I can see the title now and see that it’s the same fantasy book I have at home and haven’t been able to focus enough to read.

“Probably.”

“You don’t have to, you know.” He sets his book down and takes his glasses off, pulling a cloth from seemingly nowhere and meticulously cleaning them. The quiet stretches out between us.

“This crowd can be a little… over the top at times. Well, except Gage, he’s pretty chill most of the time. Anyway, don’t let them push you into doing anything you don’t want to, none of us will care if you say ‘no’. I mean V might pout but she’s not going to hold it against you.”

“I used to say no a lot… it wasn’t really a problem. I’m trying to say yes more, so I think it’s okay, probably.”

I’m not sure why I’m speaking my mind—it seems to be a consistent problem around this group that I’ve never had before.

There’s something about how open they are, or it could be that our relationship isn’t distorted by what happened with Ruby since I met them after her death. Or maybe I finally found the voice Ruby kept telling me I didn’t have.

I always went along with whatever Ruby wanted most of the time, only saying ‘no’ to things like this at times, things she would’ve called adventures, but now, it’s like I don’t want to say no again, because I wish I hadn’t said no to her all those other times.

“Whatever you wish, but if you start saying ‘yes’ to everything, then you might find it’s hard to stop.” I have a feeling that he’s speaking from experience, but I don’t press it.

I finally jump in the water and find it’s the perfect temperature. Copying Gage, I float on my back and start trying to name the shapes I see in the clouds. In the background, there’s splashing and laughing, and I think the others are playing some sort of water volleyball.

I’ve never been a big fan of swimming. Besides burning easily in the sun and not being a strong swimmer, large bodies of water always gave me the same feeling that being in the forest did—small and insignificant.

On top of that, I was always terrified that sharks or other creatures from the depths would drag me down below the water. We’re in a lake, so no worries of sharks here, and even with the sun blaring down, I feel at peace.

The mostly clear sky, the warmth of the sun melding with the coolness of the water, the sounds of the others filtering in the background, I could probably float for days.

And I want to. I want to drift away from everything. To let the water take me where it desires, wherever that may be, even if that’s far, far away from here.

If this was a movie or a book, it would be the time that something happens. It would be where the adventure starts, the hero is pulled into their quest.

But it’s real life.

And I’m not a hero.