Author’s Note:
This is a rough draft. It has not been edited properly. Nothing is set in stone yet, and things may change as the draft develops. Thank you to anyone who reads and leaves feedback.
Read the rest, here:
Day Three:
Today, Carey has an excursion planned for them. Which could be horrible or could be great. Augusta hasn’t decided yet.
“It’s just a quick drive, then an even quicker hike, and then there’s this beautiful waterfall you can swim right up to,” Carey explains after breakfast.
“The drive isn’t quick, and the hike is also verging on long,” Sam cautions.
“And you chose this morning for a run?” Luana asks.
“I think a waterfall sounds really beautiful,” Augusta says.
The long drive sounds potentially bad. All four of them, and perhaps a dog, stuffed into a singular vehicle. Hopefully not Augusta’s tiny car. Sam’s SUV would at least have more breathing room.
“It is,” Sam says. “From what I remember of being a teenager up here, anyway.”
Carey grins. “It’s worth the moderate drive and hike. I promise.”
Luana shrugs. “I’m in. Can we bring Sailor?”
The dog in question is sitting at her owner’s feet, chewing on a bone-like toy shaped like a fish.
Carey nods. “I’d be disappointed if we didn’t.”
▪️▪️▪️
Half an hour later, Augusta finds herself crammed into the back of Sam’s SUV, across from Carey, with the dog laying between them.
“I’m so sorry,” Luana says from the front passenger seat as Sailor pants in Augusta’s general direction. “I have a car crate set up for her in my van, but it doesn’t fit in Sam’s trunk, so we put it in the backseat… But then…”
“We wouldn’t fit,” Augusta says. “No worries.”
“I get anxious driving with her loose,” Luana sighs.
“I’m not going to crash, Lu,” Sam says evenly.
“Sam’s a good driver,” Carey nods.
Of course he felt the need to chime in there. Why pass up an opportunity to compliment Sam?
“It’s more other drivers I worry about,” Luana says tightly. As though this is a conversation they’ve had before.
“Same reason we wear seatbelts,” Augusta says. “You just don’t know.”
“Yes!” Luana exclaims. “Thank you, Gus.”
Augusta looks at Carey’s face, to see if he’ll have a reaction to Luana’s use of his nickname for her. Will he be weirded out? Will he question it? Say, whoa, that’s what I call Augusta. It’s private. It’s ours.
It doesn’t even seem to register for Carey, though. He smiles, but otherwise, doesn’t react. Like this is natural. Normal. He gifted her a nickname, so why shouldn’t everyone use it?
Maybe it’s not special. Maybe she’s been reading that wrong for months.
Augusta’s stomach tightens at the thought. She feels sort of sick, and it’s not the dog breath in her face.
You’re being crazy, she scolds herself. You’re reading too much into things.
But then again, hasn’t she been telling herself that a lot today?
▪️▪️▪️
The hike doesn’t do much to quell Augusta’s worries. It feels a lot like yesterday had; in which Sam and Carey felt like they were on a vacation together, and Augusta was merely there. Except this time there’s Luana and her dog. That doesn’t really seem like it should be better, all things considered. But at least she doesn’t spend the entire time overanalyzing and watching their behaviour like she’s a less fucked up Margaret Mead.
As Sam and Carey walk slightly ahead, oblivious that they’re outpacing Luana and Augusta, Luana gets chatty. Not like, bored and needing to pass time chatty. Genuinely curious and chatty. That endearing trait of hers kicking in again. How inconvenient for Augusta, who is just trying to soldier on through this.
“So, anthropology,” Luana starts. She’s got Sailor hooked up to what she’s described as a harness she only uses for hiking, letting the dog on a loose, long rope lead so she can sniff back and forth on the trail.
Which could mean this will be either an interesting conversation or something more akin to having dental work done without freezing.
“What about it?” Augusta asks. She tries not to sound defensive. It’s only, she’s spent so much time having to defend it. From people who think it’s a waste of time. From people who rightly critique its history, but think that means it shouldn’t have a future.
“What made you get into it?” She asks. “Did you always know it was what you wanted to do?”
There doesn’t seem to be any preheld judgment in the statement. No assumptions of a lack of money to be made due to her career path. She’d faced a lot of that when she switched her major.
“I didn’t know,” Augusta says. “I switched early into my undergrad.”
“From what?” Luana asks.
“Biomedical sciences,” Augusta answers. And she knows exactly what the reaction will be.
“Whoa,” Luana whistles. “That’s different.”
Augusta nods. She knows.
“Yeah,” she says. “It was a big change, but not one I’ve ever regretted.”
“Okay, so why?” Luana asks. “Why switch? I’m guessing people gave you flack for not going the doctor route, right? Or, not the medical doctor route, anyway.”
True. She is a doctor. Just not the way people wanted her to be. PhD versus MD is a world of difference, really.
“Honestly? Yeah, I did,” Augusta admits. “People had a lot of opinions. But the truth is, if I knew what I could have studied in anthropology in high school, I would have always applied for it. I just didn’t understand until I took Anthro 101 as a breadth requirement course in first year and got really interested. I thought it was all archeology beforehand, and that didn’t interest me.”
“What about it interested you?” Luana asks. “Was it the death and dying thing right away?”
“It just seemed like a different way to understand humans at first,” Augusta says. “What makes us tick. What’s the same across cultures and what isn’t. I never liked psychology so much, so… So I looked for different sorts of answers.”
“What answers?” Luana asks.
Augusta inhales, uncertain. She doesn’t really want to talk about this part. It’s not a fun topic of conversation for her. But it was her driving force, and she did already blurt it out to Sam, so Luana might just hear about it anyway. Besides, Augusta has a feeling Luana’s curiosity isn’t easily extinguished.
“My brother died,” she says.
Luana’s face falls.
“I was thirteen,” Augusta says. “It affected my mother and I very differently. My grandmother, too. She, um… She mostly raised me after that. So, I guess… I guess I just wanted to know why that experience could be so different for so many people. I wanted to know what helped other cultures, who seemed to deal with it better than we did.’
“I’m sorry,” Luana says.
“Thanks,” Augusta replies quietly.
There’s no easy way to respond to someone telling you their family member has died. I’m sorry is very common. Augusta doesn’t begrudge her that, as unoriginal as it is. She’s collected so many little apologies on Sebastian’s behalf.
“I can’t imagine losing my brother,” Luana murmurs. Then, she winces. “Oh, fuck. What a stupid thing to say. I sound like an asshole.”
Augusta shakes her head. “No, that’s okay. That’s, like, a normal way to feel.”
“What was his name?” Luana asks.
“Sebastian,” she says.
Augusta waits for the next natural question. The one that always follows. If you don’t mind me asking, how did he die? And Augusta doesn’t want to explain it. She never does. She can’t do it without seeing it behind her eyes.
That question never comes.
“I like that name,” Luana says instead. “And yours. They feel classic.”
Augusta smiles. “Thank you. Luana is Portuguese?”
“Yeah,” she says. “I always liked that I was the only one I knew. Until I went to Portugal one summer and met a bunch of little kids with the same name.”
Augusta chuckles. “The only person I’ve met with my name was seventy-four.”
“See?” Luana shrugs. “Classic.”
Augusta laughs. She has a point.
“What about you?” Augusta asks, feeling strangely disarmed. “Why architecture? Big fan of Lego as a child?”
That earns Augusta a melodic trill of laughter from Luana. She opens her mouth to answer, but before they can talk anymore, Carey and Sam, who have been chatting up ahead of them, come to a stop. Carey turns back and smiles at them.
“We’re here!” He exclaims brightly. “Come on!”
“I’ll tell you later,” Luana says, before striding off towards the guys, Sailor picking up speed in front of her.
Later. When they will keep talking. Like nothing bad has ever happened between them.
And really? If Augusta is being honest with herself, for a minute there, she forgot that it had.
▪️▪️▪️
The waterfall really is beautiful. And true to Carey’s word, there’s an easy part of the rocky terrain around the pool of water at the bottom to lower themselves in and swim right up to it. The water is colder than the lake; crisp and bone-chilling in a way that might be unpleasant if it weren’t a warm day and they hadn’t just hiked to get to it. Luana even emits a little shocked squeak when she lowers her body down into the pool.
“Come on!” Carey teases. “It’s not that bad.”
“It’s going to start forming ice,” Luana hisses.
“River water is always colder than the lake,” Carey explains. “But you get used to it.”
“You numb to it,” Sam amends.
Augusta doesn’t mind the cold, truth be told. She was feeling sweaty before. She’s not a big hiker or runner or anything that ends in being sweaty or sticky or than… Well, sex. But that’s an exception. She’s glad the water is cool enough to refresh her.
Augusta swims forward, towards the falls.
“Oh,” she says, suddenly unable to feel the bottom of the rocky pool with her toes. “It really drops off.”
“Yeah, it’s deep!” Carey agrees, swimming out beside her. “You can jump off the falls into the middle.”
Augusta is skeptical of this claim. She looks up at the falls. It’s maybe a ten foot drop. There’s a clear, easy rocky ledge one could climb down onto to jump without risking slipping. But still, there’d be a risk in the climb, wouldn’t there? And then, they’d have to jump out in order to hit the deep enough part of the pool.
“Absolutely not,” Luana says. “No thank you.”
Augusta is of the same opinion.
“I’m good just swimming here,” she says.
“The water’s deep,” Carey says. “Nothing will happen.”
“Nothing will happen to you,” Augusta says. “I will trip and hit my face off the rocks.”
Carey laughs. “Hey, no worries. The rocks can be a bit slippery. I’m gonna do it though. I used to love this as a kid. I thought it was so brave.”
“Valiantly risking permanent brain damage and death,” Luana nods. “A true comic book hero.”
Carey shrugs, unaffected, and starts swimming over to the rockface he hopes to climb, just a few feet to the side of the rushing water. Sam swims after him. Naturally.
“Sam!” Luana calls. “Seriously?”
“What?” Sam calls back to her. “I’ve done it before!”
“You don’t see enough injuries from stunts like this at work to make you think twice?” Luana asks.
Sam pauses. He considers this. Then, he shrugs.
“I don’t work in the ER.”
“Wow,” Luana says.
Augusta wants to turn to her and say, don’t you see it? Can’t you tell? There’s nowhere Carey can lead that Sam won’t want to follow. But this is neither the time nor the place, and it will never be Augusta’s story to tell. So instead she just watches the interaction, fascinated and sort of forlorn.
As the men climb up the side of the waterfall, Luana and Augusta retreat to the edges of the pool. Neither of them wants to be in the way of the jumping’s blast radius.
“He’s only like this around Carey,” Luana whispers to Augusta.
“Only like what?” Augusta says.
Luana’s face twists with a thoughtful expression.
“I don’t know,” she says. “He’s usually quite risk-averse. He’s careful. Set in the routines that make sense to him. You know, a typical earth sign.”
Augusta smiles softly at that. She doesn’t know what a typical earth sign should be, but she likes that Luana does.
“Carey corrupts him, is what you’re saying?” Augusta asks unseriously.
Luana shakes her head.
“No, Carey just brings out a different side of him,” Luana says. “I don’t think it’s a bad thing. Except when they’re about to do this.”
As she says it, Carey takes a flying leap off the waterfall into the water. The resulting splash is considerable, creating little waves across the surface of the pool.
Augusta can’t help it. From the moment Carey’s head disappears under the dark water, she holds her breath. She has no reason to. It was a clean jump and entry. She trusts that Carey knows what he’s doing. But there’s still that worry, isn’t there? That moment of tension? What if he’s hurt? What if he’s dead? Sometimes people shouldn’t die and there’s no reason for them to die and they do anyway.
But then Carey’s breaking through the surface of the water and tossing his head back to take a breath, curls falling out of his eyes. He’s grinning from ear to ear. That same smile that takes Augusta’s breath away. It’s completely focused on Sam.
“Come on, Sammy!” He calls up. Augusta has never heard him use that nickname before. She wonders if it was intentional or if it just slipped out. She wonders if that’s something he used to say often, and then stopped at some point. She wonders how it makes Sam feel.
“Move out of the way!” Sam calls down. “I don’t want to land on you.”
“There’s a lot of space!” Carey assures him, but swims back towards Luana and Augusta anyway.
Sam jumps into the water, arms flailing a little. Just like with Carey, Augusta feels a moment of tension as he disappears beneath the surface, and a moment of relief when he appears again. Like Carey, he comes up smiling.
“See?” He tells Luana. “Completely uninjured.”
Luana rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. You guys are total bad asses. We get it.”
Augusta likes the way Luana just says stuff. Boldly. She liked it at the Halloween party all those years ago, she likes it now. But still, she finds she doesn’t quite understand her. How can she seem so bold and free half the time, but be holding onto something deep inside of her, like a frightening room she won’t open the door to?
People are complex. People are nuanced. Duality exists in everyone. Augusta reminds herself of this. She can’t boil anyone down to one or two personality traits and expect to fully understand them.
Besides, that’s not the point anyway. She’s not here to figure out Luana. She’s not even here to like her. She doesn’t like her. She’s only here for Carey. She needs to stop thinking about Luana and Sam altogether and just learn to exist around them indifferently.
▪️▪️▪️
Indifference is challenging when Luana seems to be determined to chat with her. Which, again, is confusing about Luana. Didn’t they both agree, on the dock, that they don’t have to be friends? That they just want to go through with this vacation without any more issues?
Evidently, Luana and Augusta have different understandings of what this means. Augusta thought it meant practiced, cool politeness and biting back any disgruntled impulses towards the other person. She was ready to engage in conversation when necessary and keep to herself when not.
Luana seems to have the opposite approach.
After they get back from their hike, Augusta offers to make lunch. She’s never been an accomplished or even particularly great cook. Carey definitely cooks for her more than she cooks for him. But she’s always had a knack for great summer salads. Quinoa, berries, veggies, sweet vinaigrettes; that sort of thing. Perfect for lunch. While she’s preparing it, the guys go outside to sit on the dock with some music and beer. Augusta expects Luana will join them. Augusta hopes Luana will join them.
Instead, Luana pulls up a stool at the kitchen island.
Augusta can feel the energy in the air like a dog that knows it’s going to thunder soon. This big, chatty, expectant energy. Carey gets it too. Like you can see the gears turning in his head before he’s even opened his mouth. Like they both need conversation to sustain them.
“Do you need any help?” Luana offers.
“Oh, I’m good,” Augusta says. “It’s not complicated. Thank you, though.”
And, honestly, she shouldn’t worry about it. They’re all taking turns cooking meals over their stay here. Luana did breakfast. She doesn’t need to waste her time in here when it’s nice outside and she could be spending time with the person she came here to spend time with. But Luana doesn’t leave. She does pull out her phone and scroll for a bit, but she stays in place. Like Augusta is the only option for company.
Augusta doesn’t know what to do. She feels as though she’s being observed. Like she’s on a hidden camera show or something. Stiffly and awkwardly, she goes about her usual sequence for prepping this dish, pretending like nothing is amiss. What other option does she have? Interrogate Luana for not following expected social protocol? That seems even more uncomfortable.
“Hey, can I ask you a question?” Luana asks while Augusta is cutting strawberries.
Augusta feels a pang of extra nervousness. Like one of those strength test games at a fair, the meter momentarily spikes.
“Mhm,” she replies tightly. “Sure.”
Augusta really has no idea what kind of question this could be. Luana had asked some pretty involved questions earlier. Some heavy hitters. What if it’s about Carey? What if she’s noticed the weird energy between him and Sam? Should Augusta lie? Say, no, I have no concerns at all that your boyfriend wants to either fuck or be fucked by my boyfriend!
“Have you watched House of the Dragon?” Luana asks.
Augusta feels her shoulders relax. So, not a potentially relationship-altering conversation then. Fantasy TV shows. She can handle that.
“I have, yeah,” she says. “I love Emma D’Arcy.”
It’s true. She does. They are very nice to look at.
“Sam already watched it all without me,” Luana says. “Which is sort of my fault? I said I didn’t want to because I didn’t like the way the first show ended. But he says this one is good…”
“It is good,” Augusta confirms. Though she’s not sure why that should hold more weight than Sam’s opinion. Shouldn’t he know what she likes best?
“So, give it a try?” Luana asks. “I have a long flight next month and I’m thinking of what shows to download to get me through. I can never sleep on planes.”
“Yeah, give it a try,” Augusta agrees.
There’s a pause after that, during which time Augusta feels sort of rude. Rude for not showing the same curiosity that Luana never fails to show. Even though Augusta didn’t think that was part of their arrangement. Uncertain who is in the right here, she decides to ask a follow up question.
“Where are you flying to?”
“Oh, a family wedding in Portugal,” she says. “A flight I’ve done a bunch of times. Not terribly long, but usually overnight, so that’s annoying.”
“That sounds nice, though,” Augusta says. “September is a nice month to go.”
Luana nods. “Oh definitely. Not too hot, but still great weather.”
“Is Sam going with you?” Augusta asks.
“No,” Luana says. “He couldn’t take so much time off back-to-back, and he chose this week.”
Oh. Did he now?
“A cottage over Portugal?” Augusta asks. “Wow.”
“Not the choice you’d make?” Luana asks.
Augusta sucks air through her teeth. “That’s a tough call. It’s really beautiful here, but… Portugal.”
Luana chuckles. “Yeah, that’s sort of what I had figured, too.”
She says it lightly, but there’s a story behind those words. A resentment, Augusta thinks. Luana wanted to do for Sam what Carey is doing for Augusta now; she wanted to show him around a part of the world that means something to her and her family. And he had chosen to come to this cottage, where he used to come with Carey as a kid, instead.
Now, maybe it’s not so simple. Maybe Augusta is jumping to conclusions. Affordability is a consideration here, right? A week at the cottage, without airfare or hotel prices and eating out, is a lot cheaper than going overseas. Maybe that was the real motivator in Sam’s decision. Carey has made it seem, in the past, like money is more of an issue for Sam than it is for him. Maybe that’s the same between Sam and Luana. Her architecture job is probably decently lucrative, right?
“Well,” Augusta responds, and perhaps she is taking too much of a risk in saying this. “They’re really close, aren’t they?”
She’s watching the knife in her hands slice through the flesh of the strawberries as she says it, each fruit leaking out a small amount of juice. She focuses on this, not daring to look at Luana. Nevertheless, she feels Luana’s eyes on her. She feels her trying to read the intention in Augusta’s words. Augusta doesn’t look up. Doesn’t meet her eyes.
“Yeah,” Luana says eventually. Her tone has shifted. She sounds a bit less light and bubbly. “They are.”
Neither of them says anything for a minute after that. Augusta keeps working on the salad. Luana just sort of seems frozen. There’s a small part of Augusta that misses the nice, steady flow of conversation. Talking to Luana is easy, that’s one of the first things she liked about her, all those years ago. She knows she just ruined that. This time anyway.
After a moment, Luana exhales sort of awkwardly.
“Um, I’m gonna go sit with them,” she says. “Just until lunch is ready.”
As though that isn't what Augusta expected in the first place.
▪️▪️▪️
They eat lunch on the deck, overlooking the lake. Or at least Augusta sits overlooking the lake. She chooses the deck chair that gives her the most direct view, so she can be a part of the conversation if needed and zone out if she so desires.
“This is really so delicious,” Luana keeps complimenting her as they eat. Like every three minutes or so. “The berries are incredible.”
It’s really sort of overkill.
“Do you know strawberries grow wild around here?” Carey interjects, brain carried away by the thought. “My mom used to protect the bushes behind the cottage when she gardened. I don’t know if my sister has done the same. I’m not up here enough to be a reliable gardener.”
It’s the sort of Carey-style thought tangent that Augusta enjoys. Sam is also listening attentively.
“You garden at home, though,” Sam says, at the same time as Augusta replies, “but your tomato plants are thriving.”
“Whoa,” Carey replies. “Almost jinx.”
Augusta and Sam look at each other, and there’s a brief flash of tension that sends a nervous chill through Augusta. Their eyes lock for just a moment, and it’s so clear that they’ve tried to take a step into the same spot. It’s clear that they both can’t fit.
Eventually, Sam looks away, back at his salad. His cheeks are a bit pink. Augusta wonders if he’s figured it out. Does he know she knows? Can he sense it? Does he know the extent of his own feelings? What level of delusion or repression or secret-keeping is going on here?
Augusta stabs a strawberry with her fork, bites it, and realizes as she chews that her appetite is waning.
▪️▪️▪️
Despite being the one to prepare lunch, Augusta rushes to volunteer to clean up. She thinks this week will be easier to get through if she’s not idle. Sitting around, trying to not think about how her boyfriend’s best friend is in love with him and his girlfriend once hooked up with her is probably an exercise in futility. She’s bringing the mood down in conversations, and she realizes it. So she just needs to keep busy. She’s never minded doing dishes; it’s not a chore she dislikes. She’ll do every dish for the rest of the week if it keeps her brain moving in different directions.
Of course, just like when prepping lunch, Augusta’s plans for singular-focused distraction are foiled by Luana.
“Let me help you,” she says, following Augusta into the kitchen.
“Oh, don’t worry,” Augusta protests. “It’s not many dishes.”
“Then I can dry,” Luana says.
Augusta looks at the empty drying rack beside the sink. “I think they’ll all fit.”
Luana’s lip twitches a little. “Well, that’s okay. Might as well get them all put away. Make more space for dinner.”
“You really don’t have to,” Augusta insists.
“It’s really okay,” Luana replies, voice tight.
Augusta takes a deep breath, trying not to lose her patience. Why is she doing this? Why is she clinging to her instead of avoiding her? Really, she should go outside. Spend some time observing her man’s behaviour. Maybe then she would see what Augusta sees.
“You don’t have to do any of this, you know?” Augusta says, voice even.
Luana does look like she’s close to losing patience. “Do what? Offer to share chores?”
“No!” Augusta kind of bursts. Like a subdued, self-conscious burst. “No, not dishes. You don’t have to… I don’t know. Be this nice? We agreed to be normal. To get through this week. We agreed we don’t have to be friends.”
Luana’s cheeks turn red. She looks over her shoulder, out the window at the deck, where Carey and Sam are talking, not at all paying attention to a brewing argument inside. She turns back to Augusta.
“I am nice,” Luana tells her. “I know I was a total shit to you a decade ago, but I am a nice person, Augusta. I promise. It’s not an act.”
“I’m sure you are,” Augusta sighs. “Genuinely, I am. You don’t need to prove it to me.”
Luana looks frustrated. “I don’t want you to think I’m an asshole. I’m really sorry about what happened, okay? I mean it.”
“I don’t think you’re an asshole,” Augusta says. “You seem really lovely, Luana. That doesn’t change what happened.”
“I know,” Luana says.
“I thought we already sort of settled that,” Augusta says. “Just get through the week, remember? For Carey and Sam.”
“I know,” she says again. “I know we did. I meant that.”
“Okay, so?” Augusta asks.
“Well…” Luana exhales. “Well, I don’t know.”
Augusta feels a wave of frustration. It’s like her feelings don’t fucking matter to these people. To Sam, who is so openly into her boyfriend in front of her. To Luana, who doesn’t even think about the space Augusta might need from her. And worst of all, to Carey, who somehow can’t see that she’s so uncomfortable.
“I like you, Gus” Luana says after a moment. She sounds aggrieved to admit this. “You’re nice and smart and I like talking to you. Sorry, I didn’t realize that would be a problem.”
And that sort of pisses Augusta off, too. Like it’s Augusta’s bad for being polite and agreeable and not acting as mad as she’s been feeling.
Augusta opens her mouth to respond. She has no idea what she’s going to say in response, but she feels a bitter taste to it regardless. However, before she can settle on anything, the sound of the heavy wooden chairs scratching suddenly against the deck outside catches her attention.
Augusta and Luana turn to look out the window at the same time, only to see Sam and Carey practically leaping out of their chairs and running towards the dock.
“HEY, WHOA, WHOA, WHOA!” Carey is shouting. Augusta thinks she can hear the sound of a boat motor, far too close to shore.
“What the hell?” Luana asks.
“We should go see,” Augusta says.
Previous conflict forgotten, Augusta and Luana rush out of the cottage in the directions of their boyfriends.
“SAILOR!” Luana calls, voice a little frantic.
Augusta hadn’t even thought that the dog might be hurt. She feels sort of sick, thinking about it. She’d been outside with Carey and Sam, chewing on a stick. Augusta holds her breath for a moment, until the dog comes running up the path towards Luana.
“Good girl,” Luana exhales, relieved. She bends down to grab Sailor’s collar as Augusta keeps hurrying towards Carey and Sam.
It doesn’t take long for her to notice a problem. Carey and Sam have run out towards the end of the dock, where a boat is turning back around, headed towards them. In the water, there’s a person. A water skier, judging by what’s floating in the water beside them.
A mixture of adrenaline and fear pulses through Augusta. She looks at the person in the water. They aren’t moving. And they aren’t floating at a very natural angle…
Geez! What happens next? Loved that chapter🤩