Free Remember The Moon by Abigail; Carter

not coat hanger tight, like the ones my friend Brad’s older sister wore. I once caught a glimpse of Desiree in her room, sprawled on the floor using a coat hanger to yank up the zipper. Maya's jeans fit just right, with a glint of silver from the safety pins she used to tighten them against her calves. When I spotted her at the game, I leapt from my school’s side of the bleachers where I sat, waving my arms like a lunatic. She waved nervously before turning back to the game, probably hoping she never saw me again.
    We heard laughter coming down the path toward us. We stood up quickly and I threw the butt into the lake just as our parents stepped onto the dock.
    “Hey, Dad.” My father didn’t seem to notice the trail of smoke that escaped my nostrils. My heart sank when I saw Marcus come loping up behind them. Maya saw him too and pushed her hair behind her ear as she looked at him and smiled. Marcus smiled back.
    “We’re going to go for a little paddle,” my dad said, a beer still in his hand, stumbling slightly as he hooked a foot into the canoe to bring it closer to the dock. “Do you guys wanna come?”
    “Nah, I’m good,” I said, hoping Maya would say the same thing.
    “I’m not really dressed for it,” Maya said, looking disappointed. “But I could change!”
    “No, you stay with Jay,” her dad said. “Three is enough for this tippy thing.” Pete held the canoe as my dad tried to get in.
    “Frank, be careful,” my mom said, always the worrier.
    “Jeez, Maggie, we’re just going out to admire the moon, no biggie.” Dad, balanced now astride the gunnel, winked at us. The canoe wobbled beneath his feet.
    “Careful, Mr. Cavor,” Marcus said, grabbing my dad’s upper arm to steady him.
    “I’m fine, I’m fine.”
    “Frank, seriously,” my mom said.
    “C’mon, Maggie, let’s go have another glass of wine. The boys will be fine.” Maya's mother, Estelle, put her arm around my mom’s shoulders and led her back up the path.
    We watched as the men paddled away and the canoe tipped severely as my dad tried to sit on the cross beam and grab a paddle.
    “Whoa! Jesus!” I could hear Dad’s voice clearly across the water. I turned to Maya and noticed, over her shoulder, the lifejackets sitting in a pile behind her.
    “Dad?” A halfhearted call. I didn’t want to interrupt what I had going on with Maya, stoked that she hadn’t gone with Marcus in the canoe. We resumed our seats at the end of the dock, watching as the men disappeared into darkness. Maya hugged her knees inside her t-shirt. We didn’t say anything for a long time.
    “I’m glad the moon is full tonight,” I said, finally. Maya shivered. “You cold?”
    “No, I’m fine.” She rested her chin on her knees.
    “Hey, you can lean against me if you want.” I hoped I sounded nonchalant but bit my lip to keep from saying something dumb when she wiggled herself between my legs and leaned back against my chest, her arms still hugging her knees. My wrists started to ache with the weight of us both, but I didn’t dare move. We sat watching the moon reflect on the water, silent in our thoughts.
    “Is that them?” Maya sat up a little so I did too, hoping for the chance to put my arms around her, but she struggled out of her cocoon and stood up. I squinted into the darkness and could make out a shape getting larger and the slight white of tiny waves made by paddling.
    “Call 9-1-1!” The cry had an unmistakable desperation to it. Maya looked at me with horror movie eyes, recognizing her father’s voice, and she bolted up the path.
    On one knee, paddling hard, Pete, the most experienced canoeist, maneuvered the canoe towards the dock.
    “Grab the lifejackets and get in!” I stood frozen. “Get in!” I leaped towards the lifejackets, threw them into the canoe, then stepped in carefully.
    “Put one on!” Kneeling in a puddle in the center, I grabbed a lifejacket, almost falling backward as Pete pushed off from the dock