Fletcher Yates was many things, but a liar wasn’t one of them. He didn’t believe in it and it was far easier to tell the truth but that didn’t make him any more honest. Looking in the locker room mirror, he liked to think he looked like an honest kid. It was almost time to meet his biology group, but he had to tame his unbearable bush like hair first. He raked a brush through it, desperately trying to get the brown curls to stay down. Hate was a strong word but not strong enough for how Fletcher felt about his hair. He despised it. Staring at the mirror, he turned his head from side to side, making sure every edge was perfectly in place.

As he carefully perfected his look, he noticed Sam in the corner of the mirror. Sam’s buzzcut was possibly the strangest change he had made since the two stopped being friends, but it suited him in a way; it gave his soft features a little more edge. That, and the joint tucked behind his ear. Sometimes Fletcher wondered if Sam knew he was attending one of the country's most prestigious schools.

“You’re late.” Sam remarked with no real indication of how he felt about it. He kept a pensive look or a crass smile. “But also, predictable which is how I knew you’d be here”

“Sorry, I just got done with my morning swim.” He said towards the mirror rather than turning around. Fletcher didn’t think he was vain, he just needed to look presentable. He had a reputation to uphold after all and looking like a disheveled teenager wasn’t going to cut it. “Library, right?”

“Yep. If we’re lucky Roman and Ellis will have killed each other before we get back.” Sam shot him a quick smile and Fletcher gave a mirthless laugh. It wasn’t funny, just true.

Walking side by side, they headed to the library. It was two levels with a spiral staircase leading up to the second floor. From floor to ceiling, the bookshelves ran alongside the wall in an almost never-ending series of books. Fletcher wondered how many books they had. Taking a deep breath in, he noticed the entire place smelt like old parchment which made sense, he supposed. He ran his finger along the old book spines as he looked for Roman and Ellis.

The two were sitting across from each other by the balcony of the second floor. Most students didn’t wander too far into the second floor simply because none of the books up there were useful. Most were restricted to library use only so they couldn’t even leave the building. Plus, there was only one rickety wooden table with carvings so deep in it that it was hard to write on. Must have been Roman’s choice, Fletcher noted.

Roman was slouched down so far in his chair that his chest was about even with the table while Ellis sat with perfect posture. Fletcher always thought they were more like each other then they would like to admit. The difference was very plain. Ellis internalized everything while Roman made it well known.

“Dude, would you hurry up?” Roman scoffed while Ellis rolled his eyes so hard Fletcher was worried, he was going to get whiplash.

Fletcher hadn’t seen them in casual clothes in so long, he almost forgot what they looked like outside of the school uniform. Roman always seemed trapped like an animal in a cage when he wore his uniform. On the other hand, was Ellis, who’s uniform gave him some sort of power, a level of charisma he couldn’t attain without it.

Sam took his seat first, to the left of Roman. Fletcher took the last seat. He noticed they were sitting in their customary spots from three years prior. Old habits die hard, Fletcher thought.

“So, I’ve decided for my portion that I will be covering the plastic on the beaches. In the past five years the littering has nearly doubled and there have been massive issues- Am I bothering you, Roman?” Ellis said with his hands knitting tightly together on the table.

“No, continue.” Roman scrolled through his phone, openly ignoring Ellis.

“Ah okay…Animals have been getting into the plastic and it’s been devastating the local wildlife.”

“I’m going to cover the chemical dumping from a few years back and talk about the impact that it had.” Sam must have noticed Ellis's jaw clench because he immediately jumped into the conversation.

Sam and Ellis both looked to Fletcher for his topic, but he didn’t have one. He didn’t realize they wanted one so soon. Nervously, he chewed his bottom lip as he tried to quickly come up with some sort of answer.

“I’m not sure what I want to do yet but I’m working on it.” It wasn’t a lie; he had started working on it. Only a moment ago but that still counted.

The boys shifted their focus to Roman who was still enamored with his phone. Even distracted, his face held a restlessness in it that Fletcher couldn’t quite place. He wished Roman would just look up even for a second. He couldn’t even see Roman’s eyes behind his messy black hair. For a second, he wondered if he was even looking at his phone, or just pretending so he could piss Ellis off. Fletcher hated how the latter was more realistic. Slamming his book down, Ellis stood up and leaned forward so he could look into Roman’s eyes. If he was trying to intimidate Roman, it didn’t work. He blew Ellis a kiss in an act of defiance.

“This was your idea, Roman. So, I truly hope you came prepared like the rest of us.” Ellis assumed his mightier than thou attitude.

Roman looked up from his phone, no emotion behind his steel blue eyes. Staring Ellis down, he turns his phone around showing an article with a headline about illegal dumping in the lake. The lack of real response from Roman was unnerving.

“That could work,” Sam spoke, breaking the tension for a moment.

“I suppose but maybe we should give the topic to someone more dependable.” Fletcher didn’t know where Ellis was going with his statement, but he could sense it was only going to get worse. “I mean, how long until Roman stops showing up?”

“What are you talking about?” Roman’s chair let out a painful squeak as he sat up.

“Don’t you leave town every weekend to see your dad? Or has that stopped due to your…” Ellis knew exactly what nerve he was plucking, and the smile painted across his face highlighted how much he loved it. Roman saw it coming too, his fists already clenched. “Behavioral issues. I know family is hard especially for someone in your circumstances.”

Fletcher vaguely remembered when Roman’s parents got divorced. It was sometime around middle school, but it never seemed to bother him. If memory served him correctly, Roman only spoke highly of the divorce.

“Yeah. Family is tough. Is Prue getting a memorial dinner too?” Roman spoke sweetly but he was toeing the line between intentionally trying to upset Ellis and his own plausible deniability. Casual cruelty was a new talent Roman had acquired in the years they hadn’t been friends.

“Eh, let’s get back to work. No need to talk about anything personal.” Fletcher said with his hands outstretched, an almost religious gesture.

Without another word, they went back to work. Roman held his breath as he read, a strange habit Fletcher hadn’t noticed before. There was a lot he didn’t notice about them, like the way Ellis pinched the hinges of his glasses as he tried to form an idea, or the way Sam would drum on the table while working. It wasn’t the sight Fletcher expected to see. He figured when they got back together things would fall back into place but they weren’t the same anymore. He missed them in a way. There was a sort of invincibility they carried when they were younger that could only exist in the youth. A wildness he hadn’t felt in years but yearned for now.

“We can’t talk about the lake dumping.” Ellis announced without so much as a glance up from his notebook. “Unless you suddenly want to talk about Suicide Seven.”

Suicide Seven was a stretch of road that had a dangerously sharp turn. Growing up in Emmerson, all the kids knew about it after their parents echoed horror stories about different people going just a little too fast. A lot of people crossed the guard rail and never came back. They ended up lost to Aradia Lake.

“Why can’t we talk about the local death trap?” Sam asked casually.

“Well how are we going to solve that? Spend a quarter of a million removing cars from the lake?” Ellis replied with venom in his voice.

“Yeah, why not? We’ve spent money on dumber stuff. Hell, your family has redone the sport fields like four times in the last ten years.”

“We all don’t want people digging around Aradia.” As the words fell from his mouth, everyone knew exactly what he meant.

“It’s fine. I’ll choose something else.” Roman was surprisingly compliant. “We should just meet up again when we all have our topics. Sounds good?”

Agreeing, they all stood to leave. No one said anything as it was becoming the new normal for them. Awkwardly they all walked in the same direction to leave. As per usual Ellis walked comedically fast to avoid being seen with them and Sam trailed behind for no reason other than he didn’t feel the need to keep up. Fletcher decided to take a chance and walk beside Roman, who didn’t seem to care.

They took a quick turn and started walking the long corridor to the front courtyard. As they walked across the brick patio, Fletcher stared out into the pond. Although it was forbidden to swim in it, that didn’t mean Fletcher didn’t spend his afternoons dreaming of how the water would feel. Natural water was always better than the over filtered pool. He was half certain he would never stop smelling like chlorine.

“Are you doing okay? I heard Warren say he found you on the ground the other day.” Fletcher asked.

“Yeah, I tripped.” Roman deadpanned and started walking a little faster.

“Ah, that’s good. I know we aren’t close anymore, but I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.” Vulnerability was something Fletcher practiced often but seeing the way Roman’s expressions soften, confused him. He wondered if anyone was ever really open with Roman.

Fletcher had spent most of the morning half convinced that Roman hated him. Then again, there wasn’t much Roman didn’t hate. Even before the docks, there was this fire burning deep within him, dying to get out. Unchecked, Fletcher was certain Roman would have burned Emmerson down just to feel the warmth.

“Thanks, I guess.” Roman replied as they started to walk across the brick patio. “How are your folks?”

“Good. Mom’s been working on a new research project. Dad’s been starting a new housing development.” Fletcher answered a little too quickly. “How about your parents?”

“Shoes untied.” Roman replied, his hand pointing at Fletcher’s running shoes.

Kneeling down, Fletcher began to tie them. Roman always was one to avoid topics he didn’t want to talk about but the shoes were a blatant attempt to end the conversation. Something must have happened to Roman for him to be this closed off, Fletcher thought to himself.

As he finished tying his shoe, he felt a hard push on his back. Flailing, he tried to catch himself but hit the water. The shock from ice cold water caused him to take a deep breath in; water stinging his lungs. Desperately, he paddled towards the surface, but it was almost as if he was suspended in time. Completely stuck. The pond was only supposed to be four feet deep; he should have been able to stand but his body wouldn’t cooperate. Through blurry eyes, he could see a shadowy figure above him.

“Are you okay?” Roman hauled Fletcher on to his feet.

“You pushed me.” Fletcher realized as he coughed up water.

“Why would I do that? So that I had to jump into the pond too? So that I can go home in soaking wet jeans?” Roman spat as Fletcher looked for confirmation from Sam or Ellis but was only given blank stares in return. “I didn’t push you, Fletcher. You’re welcome by the way. Can’t believe swim captain Yates gets scared in four feet of water.”

“Well, I didn’t just fall in.” Fletcher said, wading through the water.

Sam helped him back onto land while Roman pulled himself back up onto the patio, his jeans clinging to him like cellophane.

“I. Didn’t. Push. You.” Roman hissed getting inches away from Fletcher's face. He paused for a moment giving Fletcher the chance to reply but he only ducked his head down. “That’s what I thought.”

Roman scoffed before walking off in the other direction despite the fact he lived in the opposite direction. Fletcher wasn’t always a coward, but he certainly didn’t want to cross Roman. It didn’t make much sense he supposed as Roman got soaked too but then again Roman rarely made sound decisions.

“You want a ride home?” Sam asked.

“I’m gonna walk-”

“You know Beck would be pissed if she found out you walked home looking like that.” Sam didn’t believe a word he was saying but it was common knowledge that Fletcher cared more for his girlfriend’s opinion than himself.

Fletcher nodded and followed Sam to his truck. Unsurprisingly, He wasn’t even concerned about how wet Fletcher was. The truck wasn’t anything fancy, but rather an old red pickup truck that his parents had kept around for years. Getting in, Fletcher felt a little uncomfortable. The last time he had been in the truck was under less than ideal circumstances. Sam turned the radio on. It was playing a song that tugged on Fletcher’s memory, but he couldn’t place where he had heard it. Pulling out of the parking lot, Sam began to talk but wasn’t really saying anything. Just something to fill the void.

Fletcher tried to keep himself in the present, but he kept thinking back to Roman sitting in the back of the truck, eyes as wide as saucers. His focus solely on the old army footlocker. He shook his head again trying to disperse the memory, but the sound of Ellis’s hitched voice began to come through. How did this happen? The voice echoed in his mind.

Desperately, he tried to ground himself. Using a trick his mom taught him, he took a deep breath in and began. He started with five things he could see, his hands, the dashboard, the road, the streetlights and the turn off to his house. He sucked in another breath as he began again. Four things he could touch, his hair, his wet shirt, the center console and his shoes. Three things he could hear. The roar of the old truck’s engine, the guitar that played over the radio and how Sam was humming along. Two things he could smell, the truck's pine air freshener and what he guessed was weed. One thing he could taste, pond water. He could taste pond water and he wasn’t fond of it.

“Fletch, you’re shaking.”

A simple observation without concern. Fletcher nodded, muttering something along the lines of he was fine, just shaken up from going into the pond. Sam looked at him with disbelief.

“Really, has nothing to do with the truck?” The way Sam said the truck was sharp like he was weaponizing the word.

“I hate how well you know me.” It wasn’t an answer, but it wasn’t a lie. Fletcher only lied through omission which didn’t really count as a lie.“We shouldn’t talk about that.”

And they didn’t. They sat listening to the radio until they pulled into Fletcher’s driveway. In terms of neighborhoods in Emmerson, he lived in one of the best. It was a small cul-de-sac tucked back near the woods. Every house looked like the same basic family house but in different colors. Even the lawns and the gardens looked alike but that never bothered him. Suburbia was nice, simple and safe. He felt secure here.

Fletcher's house was yellow and that was the only distinctive thing about it save for Mrs. Yates tending to the front garden. As Sam crept up the driveway, she slipped off her gardening gloves and dusted herself off.

“Sammy! Long time no see.” Mrs. Yates said in her usual chipper voice. “How have you been?”

Sam answered but Fletcher didn’t stick around to hear it. His mom would probably talk Sam’s ear off and he had become overwhelmed by the pond water smell wafting off of his clothes. Fletcher went straight to his room to get changed.

Roman was a liar. Fletcher knew this. If Roman was breathing, he was lying. That was the be-all and end-all of Roman Davenport. He was so certain he was pushed yet there was something about the heat behind Roman’s words that made Fletcher doubt himself. Maybe he had just fallen.

Fletcher tossed an old swim team t-shirt and caught a glimpse of his hair in the mirror. Now dried, it turned into a mess of brown fluffed up hair. He considered fixing it but he was far too tired to put that much work in. Heading downstairs, he could still see Sam's truck in the driveway with his mom leaning on the driver side window smiling softly. Not wanting to be lectured about the importance of good friends, he decided to wait it out in the kitchen.

His father sat at the kitchen island sipping hot coffee as he flipped through some blueprints. Fletcher guessed it was probably the housing development. Looking at his father, you wouldn’t have guessed they were related. Fletcher’s feminine features, green eyes and untamable hair came from his mother. His father on the other hand had a stone-cold stare, eyes almost black and jet-black hair to match. He wished he looked more like his dad.

“Hey kiddo, how was the library?” His father spoke without looking up from the blueprints.

“It was fine. Still don’t have an idea what I should talk about.” Fletcher got himself a drink and gulped it down as his father penciled something in.

“What about the dumping in the lake? I know it isn’t revolutionary but it’s something.”

“Could,” was all the words he could muster. Explaining would mean lying and he certainly wasn’t about to lie to his father. His father clapped his hands together and got up from his seat. Curiously, Fletcher watched his father wander off. “Dad?”

“The lake.” He said coming back from the other room carrying the newspaper. He handed it to Fletcher with the headlines facing down. “Town is planning on dredging it.” Fletcher’s face dropped and went ghostly pale but his father didn’t seem to pick up on it. “I know! It’s terrible. They could be doing insane amounts of damage to the wildlife there.”

“Yeah. Terrible.” Fletcher bobbed his head slowly. “I gotta go.”

Fletcher bolted outside completely aware of how suspicious he looked. Sam was just backing out of the driveway when Fletcher started waving his arms and yelling for him to stop. He looked crazy and every inch of him knew he needed to stop but he couldn’t. Sam stopped the truck. A rather annoyed look was painted across his face. He rolled the window down to hear what Fletcher had to say

“They are dredging the lake.” Fletcher slammed his hands down on the truck.

“Shit.”