The surface of the lake was calm that day, and the sky was perfectly clear. I couldn't help but think it was just a silence before the storm. 

As I hauled the paddles from the shed, I caught a sliver of us - of what we were - hiding in Jack’s silhouette. The school days in Salt Lake. The summers in Idaho. The drunken nights at college. He looked the same, and nothing the same. I wanted to look away. I wanted to stare forever.

“There you go.” I handled him the paddle.

He took it without a word. But I was sure he noticed my gaze. I could almost hear him bark “don't look at me this way.” If there was no one around us, he would surely say something along the lines.

Soon everyone hit  the water. There's nothing like grown-up men going back to being kids again. Their laughter filled the air, as the paddles cut the mirror of the lake. 

“I haven't done this since college!” Kevin shouted, trying to keep his balance.

“Better get yourself together,” Patrick answered, “those two will make it to the other side faster than you can push off the shore.” 

“In high school I used to be a champion!” Jack yelled all confident. He seemed too eager to have fun - like he was trying to outrun something. “No better kayaker on the whole Provo river!”

That was true. We even used to train together for a short while. Instead of ending up as a white collar, he could have become a professional athlete. Easily. There was a time when no other classmate was faster, stronger, more agile than Jack. And he did it all without the slightest effort. I used to envy him a little.

“What are you saying?” yelled Jared, making a swift passing maneuver. “Can't hear you from here!”

“You'll regret it!” Jack shouted, as Jared continued to draw away.

The wind picked up slightly, sending a shimmer across the lake’s surface. I kept my eyes on Jack. His strokes were still strong but careless. He was too focused on keeping up the pace, not on reading the water.

“Watch your back, you show-off!” he called, twisting too hard as he tried to overtake Jared.

In an instant, Jack's paddle caught at the wrong angle. The kayak wobbled once, then flipped with a heavy splash. I stood up, frozen.

“Jack!” I dropped my paddle and leaned forward, scanning the surface.

Nothing. No movement. No sound. Just the slap of water against my hull. My gut turned cold.

The water stilled too fast. Then, a hand broke through - flailing.

I dove in without thinking, the cold pushing the breath from my lungs. But I didn’t stop. I had to reach him. Fast. I pulled my arms through water, searching for him frantically. Faster. I got him. His limbs thrashing under the surface, his eyes wide with blind panic. His foot was tangled in the strap of the overturned kayak.

“Jack,” I gasped, gripping under his arms, “I’ve got you.”

I freed his leg, kicked upward, and pulled us both toward the surface. We broke through, both gasping, him coughing water, blinking like someone waking from a bad dream.

We drifted back toward the shallows. I dragged him in, arms shaking now with the cold and adrenaline. 

Our bodies collapsed onto the pebbled sand. I rolled him to his back, bending over his heaving chest. He was shivering, water dripping from his lashes. 

“You okay?” I asked, breathless. 

He wanted to say something, but a strong cough stopped him from talking. Instead he just nodded, fighting for breath. I could see the shame creeping in. Like he’d failed in front of me. Like we were twelve again, and I’d seen something I wasn’t supposed to.

“My God, you're so reckless.” I sat down by his side, shaking my head.

“It was an accident.” He said finally, catching his breath.

“You smell like booze. Pure recklessness, man.” 

He didn't answer. I suddenly felt anger swelling within me, and an old wound opened wide. Bitter words flew down my tongue before I could stop them. 

“I guess you still drink to hide from your own problems. Ever tried to face your fears sober?”

He flinched - just slightly, but I caught it. The truth always found a way to sting.

“None of your business.” Jack snorted, turning his face away. 

There it was - that wall of his. I should’ve known better than to push him, but it was too late.

“Yeah, right.” I stood up, flicking the sand from my hands and gazing at the guys, rowing towards us with shocked faces. “Not anymore.”