She was bored. Farming was satisfying, for a while. For a few good hours for a few good years. Not after close to two decades. Frustration strengthened her swing of her ax into the firewood.

“Careful,” her father said. “Any stronger and you’ll also chop the base block beneath.”

“You don’t say,” she said, placing another log and taking another swing.

“Rosariel—” Her father sighed at the resounding crack as the thick oak block split.

“Oops,” Rosariel said. “Looks like I have to get another base block for wood.”

“Forget it.” Her father threw his car keys to her. “Go get some groceries and cool your head. Disappear for a few hours. Just don’t—”

“Die, do drugs, or get pregnant,” Rosariel said, having caught the car keys and already running toward their house past the hill. “Thanks, Dad!”

The afternoon was full of a sweltering heat, cicadas buzzing and frogs chorusing by the nearby riverbank. Rosariel changed into clean jeans and a crop top, then skipped down the stairs, and hollered past the door, “Mom I'm going to get groceries, do you need anything?”

“Que? Groceries? You’re still working! If I catch you—”

Rosariel shut the door, hurried to the garage, which was more of an open concrete hut, then fiddled with the car key into the seventies-turquoise Plymouth, with a white stripe. It was beautiful, and had actually been her mother’s before it was her father’s pride and joy. With a twist of the ignition, the engine throttled something magnificent, and she drove down the gravel path and into the road, whooping.

Rosariel untied her ponytail, letting her long hair fall free and flowing in the rushing wind of the open car windows. She always thought Clyde would like her better if her hair was a frizzy, imperfect mess.

But first she had to get groceries. A few miles and minutes later, she reached the shopping market, the central hub for all small towns. Parking the Plymouth, she didn’t have much choice in answering the greetings she got from the unmistakable car of her parents.

“Hi, Rosa!” one middle-aged man said, carrying his groceries out the parking lot. “How are your parents?”

Rosariel smiled. “They’re good, Tim. My mom’s doing better now with her arm. How are you?”

“Oh, same old, same old. Let me know if Aldo needs help with the porch.”

“I will, thanks.”

Rosariel turned and entered the store, holding her shopping bags. Every turn and corner was a new passerby who greeted her, and she smiled in return. Through the aisles she got the usual: eggs, meat that wasn’t bacon because of her mother’s orders for a healthier alternative, milk, bread, some chocolate chip cookies she’d stash in her room.

She waited in line, trying not to look at one young man who stood behind a cashier counter. She walked over to him. His eyes wandered to her, and his lips curled into the hint of a smile. Rosariel liked when he smiled. She liked the curls of his brown hair, his focused eyes whenever he looked at her, the leanness of his arms.

“Hi, Rosa,” he said.

“Hi, Clyde,” she said.

As he swept his hand over the goods, Clyde murmured, “Are you coming by tonight?”

“I dunno. Are you?”

Clyde nodded. “I’d like to see you there.”

“We’ll see.”

Clyde offered the receipt. “We will. See you later, Rosa.”

Once Rosariel walked out of the grocery store, she grinned. After she put her groceries in the portable cooler from the trunk of the car, she immediately took out her phone and read Gabby’s text:

Are you coming by tonight? You better not leave me alone bish! Clyde’s coming…

I know just talked with him at the store.

Then you know what to do. As soon as he’s alone, rip off his clothes and sit on his face😈

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Rosariel smiled in disbelief at her friend’s text. It sounds like you should do that instead.

It’s Clyde we’re talking about, honey. Who wouldn't? Come pick me up.

OK, see you at 6.

Love you xoxo

Rosariel drove along the potholed roads, the afternoon darkening to dusk with the orange sky.

She reached her friend’s house, closer to the town, in cottage country. Trees lined the wide, modern bungalows. Rosariel waited outside one such house, and texted Gabby she was there.

Gabby scurried out from the side of the house, not the front door, her red hair naturally frizzy, her green-gray eyes shining with giddy excitement in the golden nightlights of her house.

She opened the car door beside Rosariel, scooting in.

“God, I can’t wait for tonight,” Gabby said. “Benji’s opening the park after it’s closed. It’s going to be epic.”

“Not unless there’s some bears or wolves out there.”

Gabby swatted Rosariel’s arm. “Don't say that. Anyways, there’s no bears there. I checked online. Though that’s not what I’d be thinking of tonight. What did Clyde say to you at the store?”

“He asked me if I was going out tonight.”

“What? Rosa, this is huge. Let’s hope his dick is huge too—”

“Oh my God, Gabby!” Rosariel laughed.

“Rosa, Clyde asked if you were coming. To the party. Tonight. I wonder if Justin’s coming as well… the man makes all my K-pop dreams come true.”

“If Clyde is, then he’ll be there too.”

Gabby whooped out of the open window as the car sped down the road.

When they reached the park’s entrance, a lanky young man swaggered out from the ticket booth, bowing grandly. “Ladies, welcome to Willowcreek resort, where what happens in Willowcreek, stays in—”

“Benji, you’re every frat movie in existence,” Gabby called out.

Benji smiled, pulling up the parking arm blocking the dirt road, then tipped his backwards cap to them. “I’ll see you ladies later!”

Gabby stuck her tongue out from over the car window, gave him the finger, then pulled down her top for an instant, effectively flashing Benji, who whooped behind them.

“Why do you do that?” Rosariel asked.

“Do what?”

“Act crazy.”

“Because I’ll probably never see these people again, Rosa. It’s our last summer before I go to uni. May as well make it memorable.”

A silence grew between the two girls, and Rosariel could feel it like a swollen balloon ready to pop. “We’ll still see each other during the holidays, Gabby, and your break weeks.”

“What about you?” Gabby asked. “What are you going to do?”

Rosariel smiled. “You know what I’m going to do. Look after my parents, make sure they’re not too overworked with the farm. Someone’s gotta look after them.”

“It seems like they did fine looking after you. Maybe they can look after themselves. Is just staying at the farm really what you want to do? Rosaldo’s in Toronto, maybe you could—”

“And do what there?” Rosariel shook her head. “I’ve never been good at anything besides sports, and winning isn’t everything in life, especially in a small town. I’m okay where I am, Gabby. I like where I am.”

“I dunno… it’s just, there’s way more of the world, heck, even Canada, than here, Rosa.”

“I know. But this is home. And this is where we are.”

Rosariel parked the Plymouth over the gravel paved parking lot, already lined with other partiers’ cars. Laughter, cheering, and music rang from the woods.

The two girls exited the car and followed the noise.

Night settled across the sky, bluish clouds darkening the bright orange caught in the trees. Rosariel loved the woods. There was a certainty in being there, hidden from the world, cocooned in nature and energy and youth, like a fragile fantasy waiting to drift away from the roaring stream that was her life.

Someone had gotten several barrels for campfires to cook s’mores and hotdogs, and there was even a girl who sang with an acoustic guitar while others chanted out the song’s lyrics. Naturally, a few kegs of beer lay where a circle of people cheered on several chugging boys.

Gabby glanced back at Rosariel, smirking. “Look who’s here.”

She spotted Clyde with Justin, who waved and walked toward them.

“Hey,” Clyde said, rubbing the back of his head with the sidelong smile that Rosariel always liked.

“Hey.” Rosariel grinned.

“Hey Justin,” Gabby said, immediately pulling Clyde’s friend to scurry off to some darker, secluded part of the park.

“Okay.” Clyde guffawed, his eyebrows arched in amusement after their friends. “I wanna show you something.”

Rosariel nodded. “Sure.”

She walked beside him past the other partiers, down a hiking trail that turned to soft sand under Rosariel’s canvas sneakers.

She heard the waves washing over the pebbled beach, rustling and receding back to the lake, the sun rolling down in a final reddish arc across the horizon.

“It's beautiful,” Rosariel said.

“Yes,” Clyde said, staring back at her. “It is.”

He took a step closer. “How come you never did anything?”

“What do you mean?” Rosariel asked.

“You could’ve been with any guy in high school. Why didn’t you go out with anyone, like officially?”

“Maybe I just didn’t find the right person.”

Clyde was inches away from her face. He looked down at her, his fingertips propping up her chin. “You feel right to me,” he whispered, and then he kissed her.

His tongue met hers, and she felt a pleasant sensation of her lower lip suckled and lightly nipped. She felt his hands slide around her waist, up to her back, undoing the laces with questionable ease.

He laid her down on the sand, though Rosariel swiftly turned him over, kissing his neck. Clyde smiled and kissed her back.

“Rosa…” he said, panting, eyes wide, in fear this time. He pointed behind her.

Several eyes glinted golden in the night. Silhouettes of wolves sat at the bank of the beach, watching them from above.

“What do we do?” Clyde whispered.

Rosariel took off her crop top. “Let them watch.”

“What are you going to do next year?” Clyde asked, his hand rubbing a tangle of her hair.

Rosariel shrugged. “I’ve been asked that question a lot lately. Is it so hard to believe I’ll just stay here? How about you?”

“I got into U of T. I’ll be here, back in my first break. Maybe we can—”

Rosariel pressed her forefinger to his lips. “It’s okay, Clyde. We’re here now.”

She nestled between his shoulder and neck as they watched the few stars shining through the night sky. Somewhere in the dark, they heard the wolves howling, strangely calming.