Early morning light drifted in through my bedroom window. I sat cross-legged on my coral sheets, a pillow propped behind my back. My little tabby cat, Georgie, was curled up in my lap, breathing quiet as she slept. I rolled the last pair of my socks together and shoved it into the green duffle bag next to me.

“Reagan, are you almost done?” Mom’s voice drifted up the stairs.

Georgie startled awake. “Aww, poor baby.” I scooped her into my arms. “You never get a moment’s peace, do you?” Turning off the light, I went downstairs to the sunny kitchen, Georgie purring sleepily all the way. For a moment, I considered taking her with us. It would be fun to have a cat to curl up with in the hammock or go paddleboarding with. But I quickly tossed that idea. The last thing I wanted was to have a repeat of the incident last summer, when Georgie almost drowned in the lake.

“You’ll have more fun here at home,” I muttered, gently putting Georgie down on the floor.

Mom was slicing strawberries at the island. Her cream-colored apron was tied into a bow in the front, puffs of flour smearing the pockets. Her ginger hair was pulled up in a loose bun that was slowly deflating like a bad soufflé. She smiled over her shoulder at me as I entered. “Are you going to be alright without Georgie while you’re gone?” she asked, laughing. “A week is a long time.”

“I know, I’ll just love on her even more when I get back.”

My phone dinged. I fished it out of my back pocket, eyes scanning the notification lingering on my wallpaper—a photo of me and Saige and Cass on our first summer trip. I still had braces back then. Saige wore her hair in pigtails. Cass was in her choker-necklace phase.

Speaking of Cass, she’s the one who messaged me.

CASS: Hey, can I call you?

I felt a twinge of dread begin to form. What now? I checked the time. We planned on leaving at nine, less than twenty minutes from now. I grabbed a strawberry from the cutting board, typing my response with one hand.

ME: Sure : )

Immediately, my phone began to ring. I pressed it to my ear and tried to force cheerfulness in my voice. “What’s up? Shouldn’t you be headed over right about now?” 

Cass tended to be late to almost everything. When we went on our youth group trip to Boston, she and I almost missed the bus because she took forever in one of the bookstores. But I guess I could’ve walked faster, too.

“We’ll be leaving in a couple minutes,” Cass said. “My dad is dropping me off.” 

I winced, looking at the clock again. “Okay… Saige should be here soon.”

“Of course,” Cass grumbled. “That’s Saige, always on time and always prepared. Just wanted to let you know that I’ll be there soon and I won’t be late.”

I waved my hands in the air. “Oh, no no, that’s fine. I didn’t think you’d be late, I was just saying. See you soon.”

“See you!” Cass hung up.

I sighed. This was going to be great. What was I so worried about? Calm down, Reagan, I ordered myself.

Mom looked at me, a slight frown on her face. “What was that all about?”

“I don’t know, just Cass being Cass.” I looked down when my phone dinged again, this time with a text from Saige.

SAIGE: ETA 10 minutes, I had to stop and get gas. 

ME: Sounds good. Cass should be here soon after. 

SAIGE: Has she even left yet?!

I sighed at the ceiling.

ME: I think so. Her dad’s dropping her off.

SAIGE: Huh. Well, she’d better not be late. I’m tired of always having to wait.

SAIGE: Did you know that we almost missed our flight to Costa Rica because she overslept?

Wow, I thought to myself. Nope. You never ever ever bring that up. I had no idea. I rolled my eyes, sighing again. Mom looked at me out of the corner of her eye.

ME: That was two months ago. I’m sure she’s gotten better.

SAIGE: yeah, well, I’m just saying that this week is more important than Costa Rica.

ME: Don’t worry about it! We’ll have a blast. See you soon! 

SAIGE: yeah, see you then.

I bit my lip. The air clicked with the ticking of the kitchen clock. “Are you sure you’re alright, honey?” Mom asked.

I looked up at her.

Totally fine, I thought. It’s not like this is our one last big trip together before we head off to college. And it’s not like—I don’t know—none of us are going to the same college, or anything… Ugh, who am I kidding—we’re falling apart while we’re still at home! We haven’t even left yet! What happens when we’re thousands of miles apart?

I smiled. “It’s all good, Mom. They should be here soon.”

It won’t be that bad, I thought. Walking into the front entry of the house, I pulled my well-worn red Converse from the rack. No big deal, I thought. We’re gonna have fun—we are gonna have fun, just like we planned, and we’re going to make a bunch of great memories. I sighed, lacing up my shoes and opening the front door.

I just have to keep Saige and Cass from strangling each other. But I can do that.

Nine-and-a-half minutes later, a little yellow Prius rolled into the driveway. I jumped up from where I was perched on the bottom porch step. Saige stepped out of the car, slamming her door shut behind her.

“Good morning, girlie!” I sang out. “You ready for a fantastic adventure?” I hoped she didn’t notice that her car was the only one in the driveway…

Saige paused by the trunk of her car to give me a hug. “Yeah, it should be fun.” 

I helped her haul her suitcase out of her trunk. The thing weighed a ton—I was surprised my arms didn’t snap in half. One of the wheels was broken, so it scraped against the driveway as we dragged it to my car and crammed it into my trunk. Even with the lame wheel, it still looked fancy next to my green duffle bag.

“Thanks.” Saige brushed off her jean shorts. “It’s almost time to leave, isn’t it?” She looked at her watch. “It’s 8:55.”

I shrugged. “Cass isn’t a morning girl like we are. She said she was on her way. I’m sure she’ll be here soon.” I walked toward the porch. “Come on, you can help me get the rest of the snacks.”

Finally, at 9:05, a third vehicle pulled in the driveway. I ran out to greet Cass, who greeted me with a big hug. She looked down at her pink T-shirt, almost identical to my blue one. “Aww,” she said, “we’re twinning!”

I helped Cass move her luggage over to my car. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Saige just standing on the porch, red hair swinging in the breeze. I called out to her, “Hey Saige, grab the snacks, would you? I think we’re just about ready.”

At long last, the luggage was stowed, the snacks were packed, and the playlist was queued. Saige claimed the backseat, wasting no time in pulling out her favorite journal and neon pens. Cass sat shotgun, headphones in. After Saige put on her favorite road trip playlist, we headed out for our last hurrah.

During a quick stop for gas, Cass took over driving, and I took the front seat, assuming the role of DJ and navigator.

“Finally, we can listen to something else.” Cass pulled back onto the highway. “I’m not really in the mood for romance. I’m not twelve anymore.”

“I thought you liked music like that.” Saige didn’t look up from her journal, undoubtedly scribbling another poem. “You’re the reason we always had to go to the music store every time Ed Sheeran or Niall Horan released another album.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes people get better taste in music and know what’s actually good.” Cass looked at me. “Right, Reagan?”

“Keep your eyes on the road, please,” Saige said. “I’d rather not end up in the hospital.” 

Cass glared at her in the mirror.

I gulped. This was just great. “Umm, I don’t know. I like all kinds of music. Please don’t wreck my mom’s car, Cass.”

Cass rolled her eyes. “Why are you siding with her?”

I heard Saige mutter something, but I chose to ignore it.

“You’re both being ridiculous.” I crossed my arms. “I’m the DJ, anyway. If you don’t like my choice of music, I’ll make you listen to an audiobook.” That gave me an idea. “Oh, remember that song we used to always sing and dance to at sleepovers?”

I fiddled with my Spotify. As the opening notes of “Hey, Soul Sister” came through the speakers, I began singing along. I could see Saige in the rearview mirror, eyes glued to whatever she was reading. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Cass glaring at the road. No moving to the music, no mouthing the words. Leaning my head against the window, I watched as the miles slipped by. I guess this just isn’t a karaoke kind of road trip.

It was almost dinnertime when we arrived at our beautiful little home away from home.

Right on the lake, Serenity Cabin had breathtaking views of Acadia National Park, and, as Saige put it, “The sun just sparkled across the water.” My mom and her sister Joy had bought it when they graduated college. For as long as Cass, Saige, and I could remember, we’d spent part of the summer here every year.

While Cass and Saige debated over whose suitcase was heavier, I stood in the entry room, soaking in the rays of sunlight pouring in through the lakeside window. The air smelled like old wood and brand-new sneakers, with a hint of lemon. The air was quiet except for the ticking of the old grandfather clock in the living room—it’s three minutes slow, but it’s too pretty to get rid of. I kicked off my shoes and curled my toes in the soft yellow shag carpet.

Being the designer she was, Mom made sure each room had a theme and a name. Over the years, the three of us each claimed one as “ours” when we stayed. I always had the blue room, Cass favored the music room, and Saige stayed in the one with all the books.

Once we dragged our stuff up the stairs and into our rooms, we made our way to the backyard. The French doors in the dining room led right out onto the deck, which overlooks the lake. The wood of the doorframe was teal, initially. That was Joy’s idea. Then Mom repainted it yellow, then white, then off-white, then sky blue, then white again…now the layers are peeling, exposing the thick sheets of old paint underneath.

The hinges accidentally got painted over during the last repaint, too, making the door stick and stutter whenever you tried to open it, like it was saying “I’m too old for this.”

The doors groaned this complaint as Saige tugged them shut behind us. She gave it an extra hard tug. “Why do these doors hate me?” she complained.

“They always do that.” I shielded my eyes with my hand, squinting in the late afternoon sun. “Look how gorgeous the lake looks! We should definitely go swimming tomorrow.”

“Or tonight, even.” Cass came and stood beside me. “I always forget how beautiful Maine is in the summer.” She pointed across the lake. “Look, someone has their sailboat out. It’s so cute!”

Saige didn’t even look. “It’s just a boat.”

Time to change the subject, I thought, seeing Cass’s face darken. “Let’s go make some food. I’m starving.” I led the way back up to the sun-soaked deck.

On our way inside, I put all my weight against the door, succeeding in getting it open on the first try.

Cass scowled at the squeaking of the hinges. “That door needs help.”

Before starting meal prep, we made tea and turned up the music. Cass had her lemon ginger, and since Saige took the last Earl Grey, I settled for peppermint.

The three of us easily switched back into our roles in the kitchen, we’d done this for so long. It was a tradition to have fettuccine Alfredo and Caesar salad the first night of vacation. Each of us had our own part of the preparation to do.

While Cass cut the lettuce and other salad things, I worked on the noodles and sauce. Saige was responsible for making biscuits. Not very Italian, but we loved Saige’s biscuit recipe and how buttery they were.

“Oh, I forgot to take the butter out of the freezer!” Saige stared at the frozen blobs, eyes wide.

Cass looked over at the butter. “Umm, stick it in the microwave? It’s not a big deal.”

“But they turn out better when it’s room temperature,” Saige snapped. Grabbing a plate from the cupboard, she dumped out the frozen sticks and shoved it all in the microwave. Punching the buttons, she stood there in silence, arms crossed. I stirred the sauce, staring into the pot like it was a riveting piece of television. Just ignore them, I thought. They’ll work it out eventually.

Cass put the finishing touches on the salad, humming to herself. “When the biscuits are done, we can eat,” she announced. “I’ll set the table.” As she laid out napkins and silverware, Cass glanced over at me. “I think we should go for a hike in Acadia tomorrow. I mean, it’s not that far from here.”

“But it’s going to be so hot tomorrow,” Saige moaned. “Who wants to go hiking in ninety degrees?” She slid the tray of biscuits into the oven. “We should go swimming and work on our tan! And get sushi or something.”

“But we can go swimming at home. We should do something different. It is vacation, after all.” Cass looked over at me. “What do you want to do, Reagan?”

I dumped the noodles in a colander. Steam billowed up, flooding my face as I jumped away from the heat. Why do I always end up in the middle? I want to go hiking. We could do that and then come back and swim and cool off. But then Saige would be in a mood the whole time.

“Let’s go swimming tomorrow, and hiking the next day, when it might be a little cooler?” I held my breath. Would that be good enough for both of them?

Saige nodded. “Fine with me.”

I looked at Cass.

“Yeah, whatever,” she shrugged. “As long as we go hiking soon.”

The next morning, after a hurried breakfast, we raced to get ready for a lake day. In our somewhat coordinating suits—me in green, Cass in blue, and Saige in purple—we looked like a trio of gymnasts, as Saige liked to say.

“That’s a nice color on you,” I heard Cass tell Saige on our way outside. “It brings out your eyes.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. Did I hear that right? It didn’t sound like typical Cass sarcasm… At least they’re not arguing again. If they’re happy, then everything’s fine. I remembered what Mr. Knightley said in Emma. “If things are going untowardly one month, they are sure to mend in the next.” I guess things have mended themselves. Thank goodness.

“Reagan, come on!” Saige waved at me. “We’re all gonna jump in at the same time!” 

“Coming!” I tugged the door shut—gave it an extra hard pull. It scraped dully against the wood floor, then finally clicked shut. I took the steps two at a time. On Cass’s count of three, we all raced across the tiny strip of sand and splashed into the water.

We splashed around for a while before Saige got a mouthful of lake water and hollered for us to stop. Either she didn’t hear or didn’t care, but Cass splashed Saige again as she tried to wring out her hair.

“CASS! I said stop!” Saige stood in the shallows, dripping, looking more upset than I’d ever seen her. “Why don’t you listen?”

“I didn’t hear you!” Cass didn’t yell, but her jaw tensed. “Chill out, would you? It’s just water.”

“Well, maybe I don’t want water in my face.” Saige began swimming away. Cass looked at me. “What’s with her?”

I shrugged, giving a half smile. “She did say stop.”

“For the last time, I didn’t hear her.” Cass’s voice dropped to an angry whisper. “She’s so uptight these days. I mean, maybe it’s a good thing we’re all going to different colleges.”

“I hear you whispering.” Saige swam up beside us. Her face had softened, but she still wasn’t smiling. “Are you bragging about getting into Princeton again?”

Cass flicked some water at her. “Why do you keep bringing that up? It’s not like you got into some lame-o school.”

“Whatever.” Saige leaned away, floating on her back with her eyes closed. 

Cass rolled her eyes. “Always with the brush off,” she whispered.

I avoided looking at either of them. When did the water get so cold? I shivered, a gentle breeze freezing me as it rushed by. I climbed out of the lake and sat in the warm sand, drawing circles in it with my finger.

Cass sat down in the shallows on the edge of the shore, squinting back at me. “Are you seriously shivering right now? It’s like, ninety degrees!”

“You know that I’m always cold,” I defended. “Thank goodness my school is in the South. I can escape the cold for a few years. We can go swimming any time we want, Saige.”

Saige gave a thumbs up as she floated by on the water. “Yeah, that’ll be fun. You should come with us, Cass. Forget the Princeton music department and come to the sunny shores of Georgia.”

I looked from Saige to Cass, a tiny feeling of worry beginning to grow. 

“Nah, I’m good.” Cass brushed dry sand off her arm. “You keep bringing this up, Saige. I’m not going to change my mind. I already said that on the Costa Rica trip.” She looked up from the sand and glared at the sky, her voice getting louder like a rising wave. “Why are you so hung up on this?”

Uh-oh, I thought. No, no, no—why would she bring that up? I inched forward in the sand, just slightly. Mr. Knightly can’t be wrong here—it was mended, wasn’t it? 

“Guys,” I said, “I don’t think this–”

“Because we’ve been planning this for years, Cass!” Saige yelled. “Since we were, like, ten years old, Cass! Gosh, you’re so–” She slapped the top of the lake, the water erupting under her palm with a harsh splash. She swam to the shore, stomping across the sand to Cass. “We were all going to UGA!” she shouted. “We were going to UGA, and room together, and take Spanish and go on another trip to Costa Rica after graduation–” She stared down at Cass, her shadow flooding over her. “It was so simple, Cass, and you just–we all got in, and then you just completely bailed!”

Cass shot up to her feet, forcing Saige to take a step back. “Don’t put this all on me!” she shouted. “It’s not my fault you hate music and want to write terrible poetry for the rest of your life!”

I stood as Saige gasped. “Hey,” I said, “guys, let’s just–”

“Oh please,” Saige snapped, crossing her arms and glaring at me. “Don’t pretend to care. You’re just acting like everything’s fine and the same as always.” 

I crossed my arms. “I don’t do that!”

Cass rolled her eyes, scoffing. “Yes you do. Why are we even on this trip, huh?”

“Because,” I said, “things are changing! That’s why we needed this trip! Something that’s the same as it’s always been!”

“But it’s not the same,” Cass snapped. She grabbed her towel and started toward the house. “I’m done out here. Call me when it’s time to make lunch.”

I watched her go, Saige silent beside me. I felt something large and tight in my throat, making it hard to breathe. My eyes stung, like I had stared at the sun for too long. What was happening to us?

“She took that well, didn’t she?” Saige definitely rolled her eyes. “Why is she so difficult all the time?”

I spun around, meeting her eyes with a glare. “You know what, Saige? I think you’re the one who needs to chill. Do I wish we were all going to college together? Yes. But I don’t—”

The sound of shattering glass interrupted my train of thought. Startled, Saige and I both looked up at the house. A stunned Cass stood at the door, and we could see right into the dining room, now that most of the glass in the doorframe was gone. She met my gaze, wide-eyed.

“Umm, the door broke. I didn’t think I pulled it that hard…” She tried to laugh, but I could see the fear in her eyes. “Oh my gosh, your mom is going to kill me.”

Saige and I ran through the sand and up the steps. We stared at the glistening glass on the deck, and the jagged edges remaining in the door that looked like some sort of crazy jigsaw puzzle.

Cass held up a hand. “Whoa–watch your feet!”

Saige and I halted, and my eyes turned to our bare toes.

“Well,” I said. “This took a turn.” I glared at the French doors. Stupid, sticky, stubborn doors… 

Saige started back down the steps. “I’ll go around and get shoes on. I’ll bring yours back too.” She darted around to the front of the house.

“Are you cut?” I asked Cass. I didn’t see any blood… 

“No,” she said, “I don’t think so.”

Saige came back around the house, holding two pairs of flip flops and a broom. Once our shoes were all on, we carefully swept up the shards.

Cass said, almost in a whisper, “What are we going to tell your mom, Reagan? She’ll be so mad!”

“No, she won’t,” I said. I tried to say it with confidence, but it came out all squeaky. “Listen,” I added, “she knows we wouldn’t do this…on purpose…” I grimace. “I guess we’ll call her when we’re cleaned up?”

“Do we have to? We can figure out how to fix it, can’t we?” Cass squeaked.

“Cass, it’s fine.” Saige threw the last few shards in the trash can inside the door. “It was an accident.”

The three of us huddled on the couch as I texted my mom what had happened. 

Her response was simple and terrifying: on my way. 

Then came the waiting. We nibbled on cheese and crackers, sitting on the couch, facing the door. 

Saige was the first to break the silence. “So, she’ll be here early tomorrow, right?”

I nodded, staring into space. “Yup. She’s taking a Lyft…”

“What are we going to do about the door?” Cass asked. 

Almost in unison, our heads turned to the door, now letting in the brisk evening breeze from off the lake.

“Put a sheet over it, that’s what.” Saige hopped to her feet. “I’ll go get one.” 

“Good idea,” Cass said. “There’s some zip ties in the garage. I’ll find them.”  

“And I’ll get some pushpins.” I headed for the kitchen.

Together, we pinned an old floral sheet to the door. We used up all the pushpins we could find, and held the bottom of the sheet down with hardcover books from the library.

With the door covered, we all felt a little bit better. We collapsed on the couch, too tired to talk anymore.

Mom arrived at 6:48 a.m. We all clustered around the door when we heard the car pull into the drive.

Cass fiddled with the hem of her tank top.

“Is this the end of our solo vacations here?” Saige smiled sheepishly. “If I were her, I wouldn’t let us go anywhere alone ever again.”

I shrugged, reassuring myself as much as them.

We’d spent the earlier hours of the morning packing up our stuff and making sure the rest of the house was spotless.

The door opened, and Mom came in. She smiled at us, probably to help us relax. “I’m guessing you didn’t get much sleep last night?”

I shook my head. “It’s not too bad, Mom. Just the glass that broke.” 

“Show me.” Mom followed us to the door, assessing the situation, all brisk and businesslike.

“Well, we’ll definitely need to get a repair man out here, but that’s not the end of the world.” She took a closer look at the bottom of the door. “Looks like it’s been slowly getting worse and worse. It was bound to happen eventually.”

I felt rather than heard Cass take a deep breath. I nudged her. “See?” I whispered. “Nothing to worry about.”

Mom called the repair company on our way out the door. I handed her the keys to her car. All the excitement for our big trip had kind of vanished. Mom told us it was fine to stay with our original plans, but the three of us agreed that we all just wanted to go home.

“Maybe you can have a sleepover or something, like you used to,” Mom said.

I climbed in the back seat of the car. Saige and Cass piled in after me.

“You know there’s a front seat, right?” I buckled up my seat belt. “Move over, Cass. You’re too close.”

“It’s more fun this way.” Cass didn’t move an inch. “But I might move if you don’t stop breathing on me.”

Mom looked at us in the rearview mirror. “I hope you three weren’t fussing like this the whole time,” she said with a wry smile.

We looked at each other. 

“Well, not quite like that.” Cass’s face turned sad. “We were kind of over the top, though, weren’t we?”

“Yeah, a little bit,” I admitted.

Silence settled over the car, each of us in our own thoughts. Mom was on the phone with Dad now, telling him about the change of plans.

Saige looked down at her hands, picking at a loose nail. “Sorry for what I said, Cass.” 

“Yeah, me too.” Cass nudged me. “I should apologize to you too, Reagan. I didn’t handle things very well. I’m glad you’re both going to UGA. You’ll do great there.”

I nodded, smiling. “I know you love music, Cass. I really am proud of you for getting into Princeton.”

Saige nodded. “Same. I mean, it’s going to be so good for you.”

Cass slid down in her seat, seat belt catching under her jaw as she smiled. “Aw…thanks, guys.”

The car rumbled slowly down the gravel road. I stared out the window, watching the lake house shrink behind us.

“I’ll miss you guys,” Cass added softly. “I hope you know that.”

I saw the faded floral sheet flutter in the breeze before the car turned the corner. No glass glittered on the porch deck.

I turned back to Saige and Cass. “I know,” I said. “But I think we’ll make it work.”

Anna Kate

Anna Kate comes from the mountains of Pennsylvania and is going into her second year at Rosedale Bible College. She enjoys discovering new music, experimenting with recipes, and saving art ideas on Pinterest. Her writing inspiration comes from the randomness of life and all the adventures she has with friends. You can find Anna online at annakatewrites.com, where she writes about a variety of topics, usually while sipping on a London Fog.

Cover art by Levi Matthews
Connect on Instagram @levimatthews.artist or on his website, LeviMatthewsArtist.com.