"This is unfair," I screamed at my mom, "I have plans. The guys and I were going to spend all summer -- "
"Doing what? Staying up to 3 AM getting drunk? There'll be plenty of time to do that once you are in college," she quipped back.
My mom was cool. She did not deserve my rage, and luckily for me, she secretly agreed with me. My dad, unfortunately, had gotten it into his head that we needed to spend one last summer together, at our small and beat-up cabin, nonetheless.
I did not understand what he saw in the place. It only had two bedrooms, forcing me to bunk with my sister. At 18 and 20 years old, this was a nightmare. We had barely spoken since she left for college, and we were not on the best of terms before that. How could I be expected to share a room with her for the next two months?
It wasn't only that we were not close. It was the lack of privacy. I had always had a separate room, so I never had an issue masturbating before. I could do it in the shower, but the walls were thin, and my mom was constantly worried about overusing water. If I spent more than 15 minutes in the shower, she started asking questions.
The worst part of the cabin was the isolation. The closest town was ten miles away, and it was nothing more than a gas station and post office. Any real civilization required an hour's drive. While there were a couple of other houses on the lake, both were usually empty. It would be my family alone in the woods for two months.
"But this is the last summer I get to spend with my friends," I continued my protest, "Not to mention Sarah. What am I going to tell her?"
Sarah was my girlfriend. We had been together for over a year, and things were serious. We planned to stay together in college, despite attending universities in different states. We thought that our bond was strong enough to survive.
Well, that was our official stance, but I did not believe it. We were not soul mates, and once we entered college, all bets were off. I doubted we would last past Thanksgiving break.
"I know, honey, but your dad -- "
"How am I supposed to tell my girlfriend that we can't spend our last few months together because dad wants to go fishing?"
"That's not fair, and you know it. Your dad's having a hard time with you leaving. It was hard enough when Janice left. He wants to spend the summer together as a family. Like when you were kids."
"There will be plenty of summers. Why this one?"
We had not been to the cabin in years. When Janice and I were little, we would make the trek up north once a summer and spend a few weeks, sometimes more. The duration depended on how much leave my dad had. Or, more accurately, how much he would allow himself to take.
In the beginning, it would be four to six weeks. Over the years, my dad got more and more dedicated to work. As it became more encompassing, our vacations grew shorter and shorter until they ceased entirely.
He did not view burying himself with work as abandoning his family. On the contrary, he thought that he was doing the right thing by providing financially. He failed to see that his absence, not just the loss of vacations, took its toll on everyone, especially my mom.
Neither Janice nor I complained. We did not know any better. It is only in hindsight that I can see the problems now. We were in middle school, and hanging out with friends was the zenith of our summers. Not having to disappear for weeks on end felt like a win for us.
Janice and I were close as kids. Until puberty hit, then we wanted nothing to do with each other. As her body developed, she became more popular. She was the girl all the boys crushed on, and that all the girls envied.
To her credit, she did not take total advantage of this. She was a competitive swimmer, and with that came early mornings and Saturday competitions. There was little time to socialize and party. She still managed a solid group of friends, primarily other swimmers.
The two years separating us made all the difference at the time. Janice had developed into a grown woman, while I remained a gangly tween. She and her friends relentlessly teased me during those years. All the more painful because I alternately had a crush on each of them.
When my muscles filled in, the teasing tapered off. I suspected my sister's friends secretly had crushes on me, but no one ever admitted it. By the time she graduated from high school, I was a rising star amongst the local girls, a good feeling after being ground under her friend's heels.
Janice left for college almost two years ago, which was great for me. I had the run of the house after school. My parents worked until five or six, giving me alone time with Sarah and the girls that preceded her. I was looking forward to more of the same this summer.
Because of my dad and his insane plans, all of that was crumbling. I would be stuck sharing a room with my sister in a cabin with no WIFI and probably no cell service. I went from getting laid every day to not being able to masturbate.
Maybe I would get lucky, and my sister would take up fishing with my dad. At least I would be alone in the early mornings then. It was unlikely, but I crossed my fingers just the same.
The following week, with our bags packed into the SUV, we made the drive north to the cabin. Four hours with no talking, with tension filled the enclosed space. Everyone was mad at my dad, but no one wanted to confront him.
My sister had come home for the summer after her sophomore year. Not because she had wanted to, but because she could not find a house to live in until the fall. Most of the turnover happened then, and she was required to live in the dorms her first two years. She regretted not looking harder.
At least we were both angry at my dad, as it kept us from arguing with each other. My dad pretended to be oblivious to everyone's displeasure. He turned up the radio and set the cruise control to eight over the speed limit. He liked to speed, but not enough to draw attention from the police. He was in his zone, and nothing was going to bother him, at least on the surface.
Deep down, he was a hollow shell of his former self. Once fun and engaging, he was now a workaholic who did nothing but drink and watch TV when at home, which was not as often as my mom would have liked. He always claimed to be at work, but she had her suspicions.
This summer was his way of trying to get back in our good graces, especially my mom's. He thought that being alone without distractions would somehow draw us closer. I don't think any of us believed that it would work.
It was a bad idea, confining us all to a small cabin in the woods, making us forgo our already set plans. It was pouring gasoline on a smoldering fire in hopes of putting it out. Unless he changed his behavior, it was going to destroy the family, not fix it.
After stopping for groceries, we made it to the cabin in time to cook a late dinner. Immediately it was clear that things were not going to improve. If my dad had been genuine in his desire to patch things up, he got off to a miserable start. He cracked a beer and watched as my mom prepared dinner.
My sister and I promptly took shelter in our room. We should have assisted my mom, but at the moment, we just wanted to get out of the way in case they started bickering. Happily, no argument ensued that evening.
There were two twin beds in the second bedroom, one against each wall. Fortunate, as I had no appetite for sharing a bed with my sister. Splitting a room was going to be awkward enough. We took stock of the space and immediately started claiming spots for our clothes and personal items.
The first few days passed as anticipated. My dad took off early in the morning to fish, usually returning only in time for dinner. My mom, sister, and I passed the time by playing board games, solving puzzles, and reading books. All very relaxing.
I was shocked at how much fun it was. I had not spent this much time with either my mom or sister in years. Despite all of our recent animosities, we quickly slid back into our childhood habits. Only now, mom let us drink the wine. My dad's plan was working. We were coming together as a family. Only my dad was not part of it.
Near the end of the first week, my sister started to grow antsy. She could no longer focus and complained that she needed to get out and do something. She had spent years as an athlete, and the lack of physical activity was taking its toll. The difficulty was there was nothing to do.
There were no good hiking or biking trails nearby, not that we had bikes, and the closest town was nothing more than a few useless buildings. I sympathized, but I did not see what we could do. We needed to wait it out until our dad became board and took us home. I suspected it would not be more than another week.
One morning, I had an idea. As kids, we had both been competitive swimmers. Each summer, we would train in the lake, swimming to the island and back. We had even built a tree fort out there after my dad had let us borrow his fishing boat to carry supplies.
"Do you want to go check out the island?" I asked, "Maybe that stupid tree fort is still there."
"That would be awesome, but do you think you can still make it? When was the last time you swam?"
It had been almost four years. My sister had competed through high school and continued to swim recreationally. I stopped after 8th grade. I appreciated the swimming but had not enjoyed the competition or the demands to improve every match. My sister, on the other hand, thrived on it. It kept her focused and got her through high school.
"Fuck you. I am not that out of shape. Anyway, it is only like, what, half a mile out there?"
"You forget how far half a mile is. Don't expect me to save your ass when you drown."
"Just shut up and get your suit on."
I had not come prepared to do any serious swimming. At most, I expected to float around near the dock. My swimsuit was baggy and would undoubtedly slow me down. I was a little nervous about making it, but I was not about to admit that to my sister.
I waited for Janice on the dock. When she finally approached, it was clear that she had not planned to do any actual swimming either. She was wearing a skimpy two-piece. The bottom cut high, doing little to cover her ass, only slightly more material than a thong. Strings held it together on her hips. Her top did a marginally better job concealing her but was still smaller than anything I had seen her in.
"You know there's no one to flirt with, right?" I teased my sister.
"Shut up, you perve. It's the only non one piece I own right now. All I thought I would be doing is getting sun on the dock. It's not like we had a ton of time to go shopping before dad dragged us up here. Just keep your eyes to yourself."
"Don't flatter yourself. You aren't even that hot."
She most certainly was that hot. The problem was that she knew it. She paraded around like every guy that came within fifty feet of her wanted to sleep with her. To be fair, most guys actually did, but she did not have to be so arrogant about it.
"Last one there helps mom with dinner," Janice said before she jumped off the end of the dock, catching me flat-footed.
I gave it my all, but she easily beat me. Not because of the unfair headstart, but because she was still a great swimmer. I merely wanted to get there without cramping up and drowning.
She was waiting for me on the small sandy beach, already laid out in the sun, when I drug myself out of the water. I collapsed next to her, breathing heavily, with no desire to discuss how painful that once effortless swim had been.
"I told you so," Janice chided me.
"Shut up," I said, splashing water at her.
We lay there until the sun became unbearable, and the sand began to burn our skin. We decided to venture inland towards the center of the island to find our old fort.
The island was the size of three or four football fields and densely forested. The travel was slow, especially while barefoot and mostly naked. I should have made her pull a dry bag with a change of clothes. I might have had a chance to beat her, and we would be more comfortable now.
Janice's top snagged on a branch, undoing the knot behind her neck. She panicked as she grabbed her breasts, maintaining her decency but requiring assistance to retie the strings.
"You might as well go naked. It's just going to happen over and over," I joked. "Those breasts of yours draw too much attention."
"Don't get any ideas, you sick fuck."
