I Knew You'd Be Lovely by Alethea Black

hesitation would make us look bad.
    â€œWell, just remember,” he said, but then he stopped.
    â€œWhat?” His expression was so contorted, I laughed.
    â€œNothing,” he said. He started to walk away. “Meg,” he began, turning around, but before he could get to the rest Zack came bounding out of the woods, brandishing an empty glass bottle with curvy white lettering.
    â€œGot it!” he said. Then he winked and handed the bottle to me.
    Sarah still couldn’t believe the part about the tongue.
    â€œDid you … like it?” she asked. Her gaze passed back and forth between my eyes and my mouth, as if my lips could answer for me. I cracked a smile, and we both burst out laughing.
    â€œWhat do kisses taste like?” Lindsay’s voice from the corner of the tent came as a surprise. She’d been so quiet, we’d almost forgotten she was there.
    â€œThis doesn’t concern you, Thumb,” I said. I swung the flashlight toward her. “And don’t you dare say one word to Mom.”
    Of course, camping was only a camouflage. As soon as Lindsay fell asleep, Sarah and I bypassed the noisy zippers and pulled ourselves out of our sleeping bags like snakes shedding skins. We hurried along the dirt road, crickets chirping and a full moon overhead. The Zimmermans lived ten houses away, and Zack and James had arranged to sleep out in their boathouse. I pinged my finger against the screen. James materialized first.
    â€œSorry we’re late,” I said.
    â€œNo worries,” he said. “It’s not like we had somewhere else to be.” Behind him, Zack was putting something in a cooler. We heard a loud noise that sounded as if it came from the house, and everybody froze. Zack put his finger to his lips, and I rolled my eyes—as if we didn’t know. We remained motionless for another few seconds, then Zack brushed past, tapping my elbow.
    â€œNow or never,” he said.
    The Zimmermans had a white and silver Sea Ray with cushioned seats and a chrome steering wheel. It was a sleek boat, perfect for water-skiing behind during the day. But tonight we had something else in mind. Zack knelt inthe bow and paddled us away from the dock—we didn’t dare start the motor this close to the house—while James spread out a blanket so the rest of us could lie down. Once we’d reached a safe distance, Zack turned the ignition key, and we began speeding through the dark water.
    James took off his sweatshirt and handed it to me. “Your lips are turning blue,” he said. Sarah and I hadn’t thought to wear more than cotton shorts and T-shirts. I was so grateful that in my happiness I shared it with Sarah, draping it across both our legs.
    When we reached the middle of the bay, Zack cut the motor and let the boat ghost across the lake’s glassy surface. Everything was still; only a few loons wailed in the distance. It sounded as if they were mother loons calling for their children, and I began to think about my mom. About how lately she’d cry at nothing, and how she seemed anxious all the time. In my dreams she was tiny, small enough to fit in the palm of my hand, and I would cup my fingers around her and rescue her from stampeding herds and fiery buildings.
    The boat swayed as small waves lapped at its sides. James put a cassette in the tape deck, and a ballad by Journey started to play. Zack tossed back another blanket he found in the bow, where he was rummaging around with the cooler. Sarah, James, and I lay under the blanket and stared up at the sky. The black silhouettes of pine trees put a jagged frame around its glittering endlessness. My uncle had been teaching me about photography, and I wondered if it would ever be possible to do justice to this simple sight. Something about the water all aroundand the sky all above gave me a real sense of being on the planet.
    â€œWe’re on planet Earth,” I said.
    Zack let out a