Free Reclaimed by Sarah Guillory

belonged. They talked about people I didn’t know and places I’d never been. They had inside jokes that I would never understand. But I’d been a part of a group once. I’d had my own friends and inside jokes. Even though I no longer remembered the specific details, being with Jenna helped me see the shadows still cast by those moments. When Jenna threw her head back and laughed, I wanted to memorize every single note and gesture before I lost it completely. If I couldn’t have those old moments back, I would fill myself with new ones.
JENNA
    After lunch, Ian and the guys threw a football around. He made fitting in look so much easier than it must have been. Moving to Solitude had to be rough, especially since our groups had been formed in the sandbox when we were five.
    Steph came and sat by me. We were best friends in second grade when we’d both had Mrs. Campbell. We weren’t that close anymore, but I still liked her, although the fact that she was hanging out with Dani Peters caused me to worry a little about her sanity. “He seems nice,” Steph said.
    I turned and glanced at Ian. He kicked up the sandy dirt as he ran for the ball Kyle threw. He caught it just before falling into a scraggly bush, but came up grinning. There wasn’t even a hint that he was bothered by anything other than making sure he didn’t drop the ball. Maybe this was one of the reasons I liked Ian. He was so present in the moment. All his baggage must have been tucked neatly out of sight, because he sure wasn’t hauling it around for the world to see. And he only knew me in this moment as well. He didn’t remember me throwing up on Mrs. Kitchener the first day of kindergarten. He didn’t recall every single stupid thing I’d ever regretted. Because he was a clean slate, so was I. He was easy to be with, and without even trying, he managed to loosen the knot that formed whenever I was at home. But I wasn’t going to lose my head over any boy, no matter how handsome he was or how much my heart beat against my chest and demanded I change my mind.
    I knew Ian was coming before I saw him walk up because Steph sat up straighter and grinned.
    “Steven said we could use his Jet Skis,” Ian told me. “You up for it?”
    “Sure,” I said, standing up and brushing the dirt off my legs.
    I tried not to stare as Ian pulled off his shirt and tossed it on his towel. I wasn’t the type to be easily swayed by broad shoulders and defined abs. And Ian had both. I focused instead on fastening my life jacket and getting the Jet Ski turned around. We eased out of the shallows, then I roared off, spraying Ian.
    The wind tore at my hair and made my eyes water. Ian and I cut around each other and jumped the wakes. We rode out toward the spillway, the green banks and cliffs a blur as we raced faster and faster. I found myself laughing out loud, a sound that was snatched away instantly. I wondered if, somewhere, someone was standing on the porch and heard my laughter carried on the wind.
    We circled around to the Point. It was the quietest part of the lake, secluded in a tiny cove accessible by a small road that twisted through the woods. A narrow inlet led from the lake to the cove. We eased through, parking the Jet Skis and climbing off. We sat on our life jackets and dried off in the sun.
    I’d never seen someone absorb a place like Ian. He looked at everything and wanted to know the intricacies of Solitude.
    “Places like this have long memories,” he said. He didn’t have to tell me. Small towns weren’t subtle and they didn’t have secrets.
    “Yeah, no one ever forgets,” I said.
    “Forgetting isn’t always a good thing,” said Ian, and I regretted my choice of words. “Familiarity isn’t always bad. You want those you love to know you so well they don’t have to ask you what you want on your burger or what movie you want to see. They just know.”
    “What does that have to do with Solitude?” But I knew exactly what he was getting