Aislinn

The stories of Lakeview Hollow circulate in my mind as we approach the Bluebird Café.

"What'll you have?" the server asks.

I pick up the laminated menu and peruse the options as Mum places her order.

"Caesar salad please, and a sparkling water."

After the enormous breakfast this morning, I'm not super hungry, but settle on a cheeseburger and Coke. The server heads back towards the kitchen, placing our order with the chef.

"Are you OK?" Mum asks.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I lie. I can't stop thinking about those tales. And my gut says they aren't just for tourists like us. More like warnings.

"Don't think too much about it, sweetheart. They're just stories made to drum up business," she says, seeing through my façade.

I try to put on a smile and change the topic. "The lake this afternoon, then?"

"Oh, absolutely," she beams.

While finishing lunch, even the thoughts of trying out some activities at Lake Eldritch can't shake the unsettling feeling that sits in the pit of my stomach. After paying, we head to the car, trying to push the thoughts to the back of my mind.

The tyres grind on the winding rocky road. It's thick with dense forest and gets cooler the higher we get. Finally, we reach the peak, opening to a dirt carpark that overlooks crystal-clear water that seems to shine like diamonds, stretching into the distance where it meets more tall trees. I had thought this lake was quite small, but I'm happy to be wrong for once.

Exiting the car, I take it all in. Native paperbark trees line the area between the car park and the water, throwing shade in large misshapen circles. The shadows sway as the wind runs through the branches before settling again in the calm.

At the end of the carpark is an activity stand displaying stacks of oars, paddles, nets and fishing rods, and beside it a row of different coloured kayaks and paddleboats. As we get closer, I notice two refrigerators in the back filled with a variety of juices, waters, fizzy drinks, and iced teas. A chalkboard stands just off to the side of the counter with equipment rental prices written in different colours.

Mum crosses her arms, furrowing her brows are she scans the list. "This is more expensive that I thought it would be."

Great. Now we're stuck at a lake with absolutely nothing to do but look at trees. I didn't even bring my swimmers to get in the water. I flash her a disgruntled look, urging her to figure something out.

The staff interrupt us – two teens, a guy and a girl, both with blonde hair and blue eyes. Each wears a casual shirt with a name tag attached – Ben and Ellie.

"I can do you a deal on a two-person kayak, if you like?" suggests Ben.

Mum smiles broadly, like he managed to save the day, or something like that. "Thanks, Ben. We'd appreciate that."

Ugh, I hate being pitied. And even more than that, I hate being pitied by a hot guy. While Mum settles the fee with Ellie at the register, my gaze follows Ben. It's like slow motion as he glides his shirt off, pulling it over his head, and tossing it aside. I don't know what he's doing that requires him to be half naked, but I sure do enjoy the view of that six-pack he's got going on. Ben looks up from the kayak he's pulling towards the water's edge. Shit, he's seen me staring. A rush of heat climbs up neck and face, and I couldn't be more horrified at this moment. He grins and waves me over to him.

"Ready?" Mum says from behind me. Ellie's alongside her, showing her over to the kayaks.

"Yeah," I blurt. I hope the embarrassment isn't still showing, but the smirk Ellie gives as she looks between Ben and me tells me it's obvious. Oh my God, I hope she doesn't think like her boyfriend. Oh geez, we need to hurry this up and get out of here.

A few minutes later, Ben holds the kayak steady. "Careful now," he warns. "It's quite slippery. You don't want to end up in the water," he chuckles.

I don't know about that. Ben can save me anytime he likes.

He gives a safety spiel to Mum, but I can't focus on his words while his biceps are captivating my attention. If she knew, she'd chastise me, ashamed of my thoughts. Thank goodness she can't read my mind.

Ben holds the kayak steady as Mum climbs into the front seat with me in the back.

"Just in case we run into any trouble," she claims. But it's just her trying to be in control of things. Ordinarily, I'd complain about it, but today something in the back of my mind tells me to leave it alone. Besides, if I were in front, she'd be staring at me the whole time. No thanks.

He passes our paddles, then pushes us off from the edge. We're on our own now. Just Mum and me. How fun!

Our paddles cut through the stillness with each stroke as we explore the lake. The further out we get, the quieter it becomes, my worries dissipating little by little. It's as if I'm free out here, on the lake. Like I can breathe better, somehow. Maybe it's the cool breeze off the water, or the birdsong that gently vibrates in the air, but every inhale feels like I'm more connected to the nature surrounding us than I ever felt before. Nothing else matters at this moment.

The soft, peaceful wake follows as we glide over the water, rippling like a kaleidoscope. After a while, we row around a bend to a small island in the lake. I can just make out a small cabin, but from this distance, it's hard to see any details.

"Can we check out that cabin?" I ask, pointing towards the structure. She's hesitant at first as she glances over, then she shrugs her shoulders. "Sure, I don't see why not. We're here to explore, right?"

Paddling nearer, long strands of ivy come into focus. It seems to climb up the exterior, curling its way around the windowpanes, moving over the roof and up the crumbling chimney that stands in the centre. I'm drawn to it, like it's pulling me into its embrace. Fishing nets hang under the rickety porch, and from the small dock rusted hooks jut from the palings.

The weathered boards of the dock creak, moving quickly to solid ground.

"Be careful, sweetheart," Mum calls out as I rush toward the structure.

Ignoring her, I rub my fist against the grimy glass and cup my hands around my eyes, peering inside. The darkness filters my vision, but I can make out a rocking chair, and I think that's the fireplace beside it, but it's hard to tell.

"Let's go inside," I say to Mum, who's standing on the porch.

"What if it belongs to someone? We'd be breaking and entering, or at least trespassing," she says warily.

"Pfft," I say, brushing off her concerns. "Who's going to know, anyway? Besides, it doesn't look like anyone's been here in a really long time."

"I don't know," she replies, still dubious.

"Fine, you stay out here while I explore," I say, reaching for the doorknob.

"Wait," she blurts. "Fine, I'll come with you, but just to make sure nothing bad happens."

I can't help but roll my eyes – she's doing it again. But I'm going to check this place out whether she approves or not.

Once inside, a heavy, dank smell hits me while my eyes take a moment to adjust to the darkness. Although the open door filters through more light than before. Black and grey mould streaks mar the wooden walls, extending to the exposed rafters, and a layer of fungus coats the small square table like a tablecloth. The mildew is heavier in some spots where I suspect the rain has leaked in over the years, leaving boards warped and rotting.

Mum's hesitant voice cuts through the eerily quiet space. "I don't think it's safe for us to be in here."

She's probably right, what with all this mould and damp, but that feeling of being drawn remains.

"Let's just take a few minutes and see what we find," I suggest, trying to sound casual and get her to chill a bit.

I move further into the cabin, towards the back, while she follows behind, cautioning me not to linger too much longer. This place is like a time capsule full of wooden boxes with fishing lures, and lines, as well as old books.

We continue to explore, finding old sepia-coloured photographs of a family. Maybe they owned this place, or maybe they came from that family. Either way, they are long forgotten now. It's oddly peaceful despite the decay. No phones buzzing, no cars outside, just us, and the reminders of yesteryear.

A cool breeze rushes through the cabin, and I shiver, goose bumps rising on my arms. Trying to warm up, I cross my arms, rubbing them, when from the corner of my eye something moves in the shadows. Mum and I both scream, instinctively recoiling towards the door. My pulse beats hard in my chest. She pushes me out the front door, onto the porch.

"Oh, my goodness, Ais. Are you alright?" she asks.

"Yeah, I'm good. What was that, though?" I reply, straining my neck in the direction we came from.

"I don't know, but we're not going back in there," she asserts.

Inside, there's a shuffling noise, followed by a heavy object crashing to the ground. From the dim light, there's more shuffling and scratching, and then a small furry creature comes into view. A raccoon.

With a heavy heart, I close the door to both the cabin and our little adventure, dragging myself back to the kayak. The orange glow on the horizon tells of the day's lateness as we navigate the meandering shoreline back to our starting point.

"How was it?" Ben asks as he helps us back onto dry land.

"Yeah, it was great," I blurt out. "We found this cabin and everything –." I freeze mid-sentence, realising my faux pas. I've just admitted to breaking into someone's place. Mum's eyes narrow in on me and her lips purse as if she knows something. Damn it, she's onto me, I bet.

Heat creeps up my neck, flooding my cheeks. Her eyebrows raise curiously and tilts her head, silently demanding answers. Yet I give nothing away, happy to keep both my criminal guilt and my attraction to Ben, hidden, despite my body's betrayal.

"Oh, you're back. I hope you had a great day on the water," Ellie says, breaking the tension.

"Yeah, we had a blast. Thank you so much," Mum replies, passing the oars to her.

"So, ladies, are you coming to the bonfire tonight?" Ben asks eagerly, flashing me a grin that makes all the butterflies in my stomach flutter.

With a mischievous smirk on her lips, Mum's gaze flickers between Ben and me. "Yes, I think we can make it."