Fishing In Fire, page 1
FISHING IN
FIRE
TRENT REEDY
This book is dedicated to my good friend Khalid Siddiq, one of the bravest and most brilliant men I’ve ever known.
FISHING IN FIRE
CHAPTER 1
Annette Willard liked to collect quotations, carefully copying them into a gorgeous leather-bound notebook Mom and Dad had given her last Christmas. She found these in the books she read and on social media posts. Lines such as “To thine own self be true” by William Shakespeare, or “I am the master of my fate. I am the captain of my soul” by poet William Ernest Henley. Online, these words appeared over a simple white square or with a beautiful nature scene in the background. Annette’s favorites were the ones about a person writing her own life story or about living the kind of life about which someone would want to write.
Living a good story was Annette’s high goal that late August evening. But unlike the rush of excitement and satisfaction she experienced as she closed in on the perfect ending of a story for the McCall Middle School Times, Annette faced only worry and doubt. When writing an article, she knew the importance of a good lead line and the who, what, when, where, and why. She knew the correct use of semicolons even though she hated them and would never use one. She understood plenty about writing, but when it came to fashion she was clueless.
She’d borrowed an old blue dress from her sister that showed her shoulders and had a skirt that descended to just above the knee. Janelle had looked great in this dress when she’d worn it to the Snowflake Ball in seventh grade. But athletic and confident Janelle didn’t have Annette’s frizzy hair, freckles, braces, and mountain of doubts.
“Trust me,” Janelle said as she dropped Annette off near the south end of McCall’s Lake Payette. Whenever her popular, soon-to-be-senior-in-high-school sister said, Trust me, it always sounded like, I know more than you. Which, since she was older and probably did, was a fact that made her superior tone no less annoying. “You’ll be fine. The dance is no big deal.”
“Only because you’re not involved and don’t care,” Annette replied quietly as Janelle drove away.
The end-of-summer, welcome-to-the-new-school-year middle school dance was always held on the Lake Street terrace overlooking the beach and lake. Annette looked at the water sparkling in the light of the remaining evening sun. The last of the day’s boats and Jet Skis would be coming in soon. Annette remembered fishing with Dad back before he’d been forced to take the job all the way down in Boise. A lot of summer mornings and evenings, it was just the two of them in their little old fishing boat on the lake or on the Payette River, about the only time she ever had her father all to herself, the only time she had any peace in her large family. Not a small part of her wished she were out on the water now.
But this dance might make a good story for the paper, Annette told herself. She shook her head. No. This wasn’t about writing other people’s stories. The whole point of tonight was to create some of her own. She took a deep breath and headed onto the terrace, the heat of the day still rising in waves off the concrete against her bare legs.
Her sister had said the evening would mostly consist of boys standing on one side of the dance area and girls on the other. As a fun new hip-hop song echoed through the cool evening air, most people did stand around. But they were further divided due to the war.
Sixth grade had turned into a disaster when the rivalry between the two popular girls Swann Siddiq and McKenzie Crenner broke into a war, and it seemed everybody had been forced to take sides. McKenzie especially wouldn’t allow any middle ground. Hunter Higgins and Kelton Fielding stuck with Swann after their snowmobile ordeal, and Annette’s best friend Yumi stayed with Hunter. For months, everybody in the sixth grade was caught deep in a web of mean notes, texts, and cruel anonymous social media posts. The school guidance counselor’s “Be a Buddy, Not a Bully” campaign hadn’t helped at all. And when Annette had written an article in the school paper calling for everybody to get along, for an end to the war, she’d suffered attacks from both sides. Even Yumi had been mad at her about that article. This dance, marking the end of summer and the start of seventh grade, was Annette’s effort to leave all that behind and start over.
And if Hunter saw her and actually liked her dress and asked her to dance under the stars, maybe the two of them would start going out. That might help fix things between her and Yumi. And also, it could just be pretty great.
As she approached the dance area, alone, she felt a greater need to join one of the groups. At last she spotted Yumi, standing with Kelton Fielding and Swann Siddiq near the edge of the event. Hunter was on the far side of the dance, chomping on a cookie near the snack table. A few paces away from Hunter, talking to some popular eighth-grade girls, were McKenzie Crenner and her friend Morgan Vaughn.
“Hey, everyone,” Annette said as she approached Swann, Yumi, and Kelton.
Swann wore a brilliant floral-pattern summer dress, a little frayed at the bottom, like some kind of 1960s hippie throwback outfit, her black hair up in a cool twist. She pulled Annette into a one-armed hug, looking her over. “Annie!”
Annette forced a smile. She hated being called Annie.
Yumi tugged the bottom of her Fortnite T-shirt and smoothed her hands over her denim skirt. She did not seem as pleased to see Annette as Annette had hoped she would be. Was she still mad about that stupid article?
“Hi, Annette.” Kelton, in his tan shorts and slightly wrinkled button shirt, was as dressed up as the guy ever was.
Others had noticed Annette’s arrival too. McKenzie Crenner wrinkled her nose, elbowed one of the older girls, and nodded toward Annette before they both giggled.
Maybe it had been a mistake to wear this dress. Maybe everyone could tell it didn’t really fit her, or rather, that she didn’t really fit the dress. Yumi was dressed pretty casually. Morgan had on tan shorts and a loose blouse. McKenzie sported new jean shorts and a light button-up shirt that showed off her midriff. She looked like a sophisticated clothing model on a beach shoot.
I look more like a little girl who’s way too old to still be playing dress-up, Annette thought. What was I thinking? I’m going to be a joke for everybody all night. I should have stuck to writing other people’s stories. That’s the only story I’ll ever have.
“How’s everything going?” Annette said. “Doesn’t seem like many people are dancing.”
“Well, I don’t know how,” Kelton blurted out. “So I’m good just standing here.”
“Sorry to tell an at-my-old-school story . . .” Swann held her hands up in apology. Back when she and her famous actor parents lived in Hollywood, Swann had attended a fancy private school. But she’d told Kelton, who’d told Hunter, who’d told Yumi, who’d told Annette, that Swann really wanted to downplay her rich-girl image. “But there were girls and boys there who’d taken a bunch of dance lessons, like hip-hop and who knows what else. I mean, some of their parents had danced professionally in movies and on the stage. Anyway, I went to one school dance in this huge ballroom and some of them just lit it up. I’m serious. It looked choreographed!”
“Like this?” Kelton put his hands up together over his head, spun around, and jumped, kicking out his leg in what Annette assumed to be his impression of a ballet dancer.
“No.” Swann laughed. “Please stop!”
Yumi had been eyeing the snack table the whole time. Hunter was over there having a cookie and talking to Mason Bridger. Mason mimed like he was whipping a fishing rod to cast. That was what Mason did. Annette loved fishing. But Mason lived for it.
Annette hadn’t talked to Yumi much since the article. Yumi always claimed to be too busy to reply to texts, and when she did, she only quickly answered questions and asked none of her own. Her attitude so far was crushing Annette’s hopes that this in-person meeting could help them patch things up.
I told you writing that school news opinion piece was a bad idea, Yumi had said back when Annette’s call for peace only brought a wave of snarky attacks down on her. Let those two fashion-queen popular girls tear each other apart. Don’t get involved in the war. Higgins is already too wrapped up in it.
“I’m going to go talk to Higgins for a sec.” Yumi vanished, catching weird glances from McKenzie Crenner’s crowd as she moved lightly, almost dancing, across the empty middle of the dance area.
“Why does she call Hunter by his last name if her name is Yumi Higgins?” Swann asked.
Annette was grateful for a reason to laugh and lighten her mood. “I know Yumi better than anyone, and that is one of the biggest mysteries. I asked her once, and she only said, ‘Because his last name is Higgins.’ Those two are the most best-friend cousins you’ll ever meet.”
“Must be nice to have all that family,” Swann said. “I’m an only child, and my father has one childless brother.”
“I’d gladly give you a few of my siblings,” Annette said. “My house is always crowded. My brothers fight constantly over the stupidest stuff—toys or who gets the larger piece of the cookie they’re sharing. There’s basically no place to be alone at my house.”
Swann looked at the lake. “I wonder what that’s like.”
“The worst. I promise,” Annette said. The music kept thumping. Some eighth-grade girls laughed as they tried some dance moves while the boys watched. “Hey, Swann. I’m sorry about that article I wrote. I wanted to stop all the arguing and meanness, but I should
Swann turned her attention back to Annette with her magic model’s smile. Annette thought she would never be so pretty herself. “Oh, Annette,” Swann said. “I’m sorry if I seemed like I was mad at you. I was more angry with the situation. What did you say in the article that was so terrible? Nothing! You were right that the whole war is stupid. McKenzie was seriously mad when I showed up to school wearing a different brand of jeans? She’s the clothes police now?”
Annette considered mentioning that Swann was pointing out the stupidity of the war by practically launching a fresh attack, but Swann seemed friendly to her, at least, and friends had been in short supply lately.
Swann must have realized what she was doing as well, because she suddenly clapped a hand over her own mouth and was quiet for a moment. “No. I’m not getting into all that again. Your article was absolutely right, and you were very brave to write it. Back in L.A., the girls at my old school—” She stopped herself. “It’s not important. I’m here now. Let’s . . . dance.”
To the sweets, give me sugar, hit the lights up till you drop. It was a fast song by a new K-pop group, one of those catchy melodies that would be stuck in her head all night. I’m your hero, I’m your baby, and our love will never stop.
“Oh, I don’t know anything about dancing to this kind of—”
“Neither do I!” Swann took her by the hand and started a quick hop-step-and-wavy-arms kind of move.
Annette tried to match her, but felt, as she always did in dancing or sports, that her arms and legs never seemed to do what she wanted them to do, like her body was an awkward over-long assembly of loose spaghetti. “I feel so stupid.”
“Then you must be doing something right,” Swann answered.
“Everybody will make fun of me. Hashtag: Annette-
Can’tDance.”
“Maybe,” said Swann. “But we’ve both seen worse.”
“I feel like I’m flopping around like a fish out of water,” Annette said.
“My father and I have been fishing,” Swann said. “Good way to spend time together and leave the internet behind, you know? It’s just too bad we’re terrible at fishing.”
“I love fishing,” Annette said with a smile, though the simple statement didn’t fully express the wonder of the sport in her life.
“Maybe we could go together sometime?” Swann said.
Swann had moved here to McCall a year ago, but Annette still wasn’t quite used to someone with her famous background asking about such a normal thing as fishing.
“Sounds great,” Annette said.
The song ended, and after a tiny pause, a slow song came on.
The snow is coooold. Our love will hoooold on.
Unfreeze my heart! Unfreeeeeeeze my heeeaaaart!
“Oh, I hate this song,” said Swann. “I actually met this singer, Adia, at the Snowtastrophe III premier screening. Complained constantly about her seat, and the quality of the refreshments, and everything. Cold as ice, until the cameras were on her.”
“Unfreeze My Heart,” the love theme from Swann’s father’s hit movie Snowtastrophe III, had been a top ten hit all summer. There were parodies and up-tempo dance remixes all over YouTube, but this original, super-romantic version echoed across the pavement and lake now. Annette craned her neck, looking for Hunter, while trying to avoid being too obvious in looking for Hunter. He was still at the snack table. How many cookies could the guy eat? Had he glanced in her direction? Was he coming to ask her to dance?
Kelton Fielding slid to Swann’s side. “Um, hey.” His cheeks were flaming red. He took a deep breath. “Would you like to, you know? Dance?”
Swann’s scowl melted, and she touched his cheek. “Oh, Kel. Only you could make this song bearable.” She smiled, and the two of them moved to an open space to dance.
Yumi returned to Annette, arms folded. She looked as uncomfortable as Annette felt. She nodded toward Swann and Kelton. “Are those two, like, together?”
Annette shrugged. Yumi’d been basically ignoring her since she got here, and only wanted to talk now that Swann and Kelton were dancing? What was her problem?
“I’m an aspiring journalist, not a gossip columnist.”
“Right,” Yumi said.
Annette looked to Hunter again. He ran his hand back through his hair, like one of those cute boys on a cheesy teen movie. Was he doing that on purpose? Did he know she was watching him? Annette wasn’t sure which was more awkward, waiting in that stupid dress with nobody to dance with, or standing next to Yumi and the two of them not talking.
“Hey, Yumi?” Mason Bridger materialized from the crowd, looking almost as nervous as Kelton had been a moment ago. “Would you like to dance?”
Yumi silently stared at him for a long uncomfortable moment.
And with a billion snowflakes floating down, there’s just only one of you.
You unfreeze my heart, and now my love is shining through!
“Yes,” Yumi said quietly, and, appearing stunned, took his outstretched hand in her own, following his lead to the middle of the dance area.
There were a lot of couples dancing now, and some of them, especially the ones who had been dating for a while, swayed together kind of close. Maybe she should have just asked Hunter to dance. But the song was almost half over. There’d be another. Maybe he’d ask her then. She wasn’t a loser for being left out of one dance. It would all go better with the next slow song.
But Hunter didn’t ask her to dance with the next slow song.
He was in the bathroom for the third slow song.
More people were getting into the dance, overcoming their shyness and moving more. And here she was, wearing her sister’s way-too-fancy dress, realizing she’d been hoping for a triumphant Cinderella situation but was more suited to the role of the overworked and cast-aside sister.
Swann danced with Kelton once more, and then accepted an invitation from someone else. Yumi treated the Mason Bridger situation like no big deal until he asked her to dance again. Then she just seemed confused.
Later that night, when Adia’s other big romantic hit started to play, Annette took a deep breath. You’re being stupid, she told herself. He’s your friend, at least. Just go talk to him. Ask him to . . .
Morgan Vaughn stepped up to Hunter with her big beautiful popular smile. She said something. He nodded. She giggled. Then the two of them were dancing. And what was her problem? She pulled him in almost boyfriend-girlfriend close.
“No way,” Yumi said quietly, resuming her place at Annette’s side. “After what she posted in the spring about Hunter?”
“We don’t know that she wrote that—”
“That was her,” Yumi snapped.
When the song ended, a woman at the DJ table spoke over a microphone. “Thanks so much for joining us for the welcome-back dance. You were all great tonight, and we wish you the very best in the coming school year.”
Annette watched helplessly as Morgan and Hunter remained close, even after the song was over and floodlights switched on. That was it. All for nothing. She’d lost her chance.
Swann and Kelton joined them. “That was fun,” Swann said. “Wasn’t it fun?”
Kelton smiled at her in the strangest way. “Totally fun.”
“It was . . . interesting,” Yumi said.
The dance had not been fun. It hadn’t even been simply boring. It had been horrible. Just once, Annette had hoped to be, not the star maybe, but appreciated as more than the smart responsible girl, a babysitter at home, and homework help at school. Annette saw her sister park on the street to pick her up.
“Well, I’ll see you,” she said to the others. Hunter had joined their little circle, and Annette could hardly look at him.
“Well, hang on,” Swann said. “Summer isn’t over. We aren’t just going home to wait for school, are we?”
Annette watched her, this amazingly beautiful and sophisticated newcomer who had no worries, no doubts. Why couldn’t Annette figure out how to be even a little bit like Swann? She stared into the darkness of Payette Lake. Why couldn’t life be as simple and honest as fishing?
