The Guide

When I looked up, a plate of golden onion rings had appeared between us. I nudged it closer to him, as an invitation and he looked over the pile, chose one. I thought he'd just take a bite, but then he held it out to me, like I was a small animal he was tempting closer. With a grin, I leaned in and took a bite and moaned before I realized the sound had come out of me. It was hot, crisp and delicious. The onion inside was soft and juicy. I was in heaven. The problem was, when I leaned back to chew it, somehow the soft onion inside the crispy part followed me like a long piece of slippery cheese until the entire thing fell dangling down my chin from my oily lips. I made a distressed noise and covered my mouth, looking around, horrified at my messy eating.

Craig chuckled as he ate the onionless remainder of the batter ring in his hand, "Just do what comes natural, Katie," he said, puckering his lips and making a kissing noise. Still covering my face, I leaned forward and sucked the long strip of soft onion into my mouth. "Now, you know why I like onion rings..." he said, his eyes watching me appreciatively.

Our conversation was easy throughout the meal, always about little things that we enjoyed. It was so strange, once I thought about it, because he never once asked about Braden and the guys, or what I was doing with them. Everyone always asked about Braden, or implied that I had to be either a gold digger, or a slut or a fool to be with him. I had forgotten how relaxing a normal conversation could be.

When my burger came, despite almost demolishing the plate of onion rings, I took it greedily and sank my teeth into it, moaning in happiness. Craig watched out of the side of his eye, looking like he was holding back a salty opinion. "What?" I asked, my mouth full of juicy contractually-forbidden beef.

"I said the burgers here were 'pretty good'. You don't have to lay it on so thick. They're not *that* good," he said, rolling his eyes shaking his head.

I put my burger down and wiped my mouth with my napkin, "You take that back. This is the best burger that I've had in my life. My mouth is in heaven," I vowed, still chewing. Craig watched my mouth with an inscrutable look on his face, then leaned forward. I froze and held my oniony breath, wondering wildly if he was going for a kiss, but then he grabbed my freakin' hamburger and took a bite! "HEY!" I yelled, "What the hell? That's my burger!"

Craig looked at me as he chewed my burger slowly, his face challenging me and gloating at the same time. I growled and took my burger out of his hand before he could eat more of it. "So... you can stand up for yourself," he said, nodding with quiet approval.

"Well, yeah, when it matters!" I argued, "this is a good burger!"

Craig looked at me inscrutably again, as if he couldn't figure me out. "It's... okay..." he said, dubious about the burger, and ignored my snort of derision. Then, after checking around for any wait staff, he leaned in, murmuring in my ear, "Mine are better... I'll make you one at the lodge..."

I turned my head just enough to see him out of the side of my eye, still leaning close to my face. "Really?" I asked. He nodded, his eyes full of juicy and meaty promise. I wondered what he would do if I leaned just a couple inches closer and kissed him. I wanted to, but before I had the courage to act on my burst of madness, the waitress handed us the bill, which Craig slid away from me, and the moment was gone.

"Come on. Time's a wasting. Let's fly," he said, taking my hand after throwing a handful of food vouchers and a tip on top of the bill.

The sun was just beginning its descent into evening, casting a lazy golden glow over the sky as he walked me to his plane and opened the door. "Um... where do I..." I said, wondering where I was supposed to put my foot to climb in, or even where I was supposed to sit. Suddenly, I was being lifted by the waist and settled into the seat next to the pilot's. "Oh... okay, then," I said, nodding, as he buckled the seatbelt around me.

After putting my carry-on into the small cargo space, Craig practically bounced into the plane, buckling himself into the pilot's seat. Even with his aviator glasses on, I could see his face was all lit up. It was hard not to laugh at his excitement, but my sense of terror at what was coming tempered me. My hands had begun to clench into fists at my stomach again, and I closed my eyes, trying to picture being somewhere safe. "Hmm... flying or heights?" Craig asked.

"H-heights," I said, looking over at him, my picture of being alone on a beach just not doing it anymore.

"Well, you're in luck. Prop planes don't go nearly as high as jets... and don't worry, I'll only make you fly a little," he said.

"What?" My shriek, however, was muted by the sound of the plane's engine coming to life and Craig's evil laughter. After talking with the tower a bit, he taxied onto the runway, and before I knew it, we were airborne.

Up we went, the Sawtooth Mountains growing smaller under us, the sprawling landscape a sea of wooded green. The sky's gold had warmed to a rosy orange glow in the overcast clouds, reflected beautifully in the lakes below. I pressed myself against all the windows I could reach, despite my fears, unwilling to miss the slightest bit of the beauty around me. "What's on your side, though?" I complained, trying to see over him, but unable to do it without unbuckling myself.

In response, Craig grinned and the plane suddenly tilted to the left, giving me a full view of what was on his side of the plane because we were actually sideways in the air! Being the only sensible one in the aircraft, I screamed, and grabbed onto his shoulder. Then, he just laughed and righted the plane again. "Did you do that with Braden and the others?" I asked, still clinging to him and trying to stop shaking.

"Oh no... too much turbulence for that. Yeah, I'm afraid they had a pretty rough ride. It's as if we hit every rough patch of air the plane could find on the way there. Had to hose the plane out and everything. They were doubling up on the Dramamine, last time I saw them," he replied.

"Do you think we'll have it that bad?" I asked, leaning closer, comforted by his warm solid body.

Craig looked over at me a touch longer than felt casual, then returned his eyes to the sky. "No... I don't think so. I can't imagine anything but smooth skies with you, Katie," he said, his reflective glasses showing only the horizon. "Not that I mind you climbing on me like a teenager in a backseat," he added with a smirk. I scoffed and slapped his shoulder, returning to my seat in a huff, Craig's grin only stretching wider.

The skies were true to Craig's word and I was spellbound by the beauty of the setting sun kissing the tops of the lush trees below. "It's all so beautiful," I murmured, wondering how it would feel to see this kind of beauty every day. Did people just get used to it, or did it move them every time?

"It really is..." Craig replied, his tone making me look back at him, but his reflective glasses were showing only the sunset. "So, are you ready?" he asked, brightening.

"For what?" I asked, still pressing against the window to see below.

Instead of responding, Craig took my hand in his and guided it to the plane-steering thingy in front of me. "What? NO! NO! No, no, no, no, n—" I said, cutting short when he took his own hands off the plane's thingy on his side and held his hands in the air. With a squeak of alarm, I took the steering thingy in front of me in my hands and whimpered.

"It's okay... just hold it steady, like this," he said, covering my hands with his and holding the thingy still.

"Please! Please, Craig! I don't wanna die holding this thingy!" I yelled.

"Yoke," he clarified.

"Oh, well that just makes it all better! By all means, let me die holding this yoke!"

"You're doing great, Katie. And you're not gonna die. The plane wants to fly if you're going fast enough. I've got the speed, you're just controlling where it goes. Hold the yoke steady and we'll just cruise along..." he said.

"But... but... what if I make a mistake? What if I screw up? What if I'm just a little bit off and then we get lost and everything goes wrong and then—"

"I'm right here, Katie... I know where we're going, and I know how to fix it if we're off course. So, unless you're planning on kicking me out of the plane, we're going to be landing at Rose Lake in just about 12 minutes," he said, checking a display next to him.

"You sure I'm not gonna die?" I asked, my hands clenched in a death grip on the yoke.

"You planning on kicking me out of the plane?" Craig asked in reply.

"How do I get your door open?" I asked, too scared to take my eyes off the horizon to make sure we were flying perfectly parallel to see Craig's reaction, but I smiled despite my fears when I heard his low chuckle.

After a few minutes of flying the plane, I drew a long breath and released it, feeling myself relax a little. It was incredible. I almost wished there was more time to keep going. Without even thinking about our imminent deaths, I turned and looked at Craig, just happy and grateful to be there. He had taken his sunglasses off, no longer needing them in the fading light, and was watching me with a soft look. "So, are you gonna teach me to land this baby, or do we keep going all night, too?" I asked.

"I'll do the landing, tonight, but if we had more light and gas, I'd probably show you. You're good," he said, taking his yoke and pulling it into position. "I like seeing what flying does to people... what they look like when you give them a little control."

Releasing my yoke and wiggling the blood back into my fingers again, I looked over at him, wishing we had more time to spend alone together. "How... did I look?" I asked, haltingly.

"Excited... proud...funny..." he said, looking at the gauges and slowing the plane to descend before looking over at me. "You were beautiful, Katie," he said.

"Oh..." I said, dumbstruck by how such a simple thing like being told I was beautiful, when the words were spoken by someone who looked at me the way Craig did, could penetrate me so deeply.

Craig brought the plane in, gliding over the lake until the floats just barely touched the water and we slowed almost to a stop, keeping the propeller going until he brought the plane next to a dock. He got out, helped me from the plane and handed me my carry-on.

Looking out over the water from the end of the dock, it felt like I was sailing over the surface, instead of standing still. An illusion the waves created, making it seem like the world had become magic, when in reality I would sink like a stone if I went walking out on the surface. It was time to go back to my fucked-up reality.

"I'll show you up to your room, if you're ready," Craig said, putting a hand on my shoulder.

"Um... why don't you just tell me the way. We've put you through enough today," I said quietly, my life settling back on my shoulders. I took his hand before he led me up to the lodge, "This... tonight... it was really wonderful. Everything about it. Thank you so much. Especially for making me fly... I never would have done it if you hadn't made me, and I'm so glad you did. Thanks," I said, squeezing his hand, but no longer able to look at him directly. "And will you please let me apologize to you again for... them?" I asked.

"No," he said, squeezing my hand back. "Besides, I probably just caused them more trouble than you realize. There's no telling what will happen once someone gets a feel for the yoke. Your room's up the stairs and first door on the right. They'll probably be out all night from the Dramamine, but just let me know if you need anything. I'm on the first floor, next to the office. Boat tour tomorrow starts at 9am, after breakfast," he said, pointing to a nearby boat with an outboard motor.

"You're taking us out on the lake in a boat?" I asked.

"That's the plan," he said, his hand moving from my shoulder to the small of my back, rubbing gently.

"You're planning to spend hours trapped in a 5 by 15 foot space—"

"Sixteen, actually. They say size doesn't matter, but..."

"—with these guys. I... I'm so sorry, Craig. Please, please... I'm so sor—" my begging suddenly cut off when he leaned in and kissed me, his arm pulling me closer as my hands spread across his chest. I was completely unable to focus on anything but the feel of his lips tasting me, and the movement of his chest against me as he breathed. Then, before I could even think, we parted and the kiss ended as quickly as it began. "I'm sorry..." I said, feeling his breath against my lips.

"No, I'm sorry," he said.

"Why are you sorry?" I asked.

"I just kissed you," he said.

"You're sorry you kissed me?" I asked.

"Not really," he breathed, "I'm sorry."

"Craig, I... you need to know, I'm not a good kind of person," I said.

"I know, you ate all the onion rings."

"That's not what I meant, and you fed most of them to me. That's on you, too."

"I know. Katie, I'm not a good person, either. I shouldn't have kissed you. You're... not mine... and I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry I'm not yours, too. You..." I said, choking up, "you make me feel like a better person than I am."

"That's not possible," he said, running the back of his fingers down my cheek.

"Yes it is, you just don't understand yet. You'll see... and it will change things for you. So, please remember that I'm sorry about whatever happens tomorrow," I said, resting my forehead against his shoulder.

"I'm sorry about tomorrow, too, Katie."

"Why?"

"Because I'm pretty sure I'm going to be kissing you again, then, too."

"Oh," I said, feeling goosebumps go down my body, "If I were a better person, I... I wouldn't be looking forward to that," I whispered, going up on my toes and kissing his cheek. I disentangled myself from him reluctantly, still holding his hand, ill at ease with a world that didn't have us joined like puzzle pieces. Everything around me felt alien, except for the force that kept pulling me back toward him. "Goodnight, Craig," I said, finally releasing his hand and walking away down the dock. He was going to find me disgusting soon, and the thought nearly killed me. I hoped he would remember this moment, as well.

"Goodnight, Katie," I heard him murmur as the bumping wheels of my carry-on tolled every plank that took me further away from him.

*** *** ***

The first rays of sunlight coming through the trees snuck through the crack between the curtains and the floor and into my eyes. From the snoring, it sounded like Braden and the guys were still sleeping off the Dramamine on California time. The bed that had been reserved for me was covered with their baggage and equipment, and rather than risk the consequences of waking them, I had taken the pillow and a spare blanket and made myself a space on the floor next to the balcony's sliding door. The carpeting smelled exactly as you might expect after years of the place being used by people who came in to sleep after a day of fishing, and then scaling and gutting their catches.

Barefoot, I crept through the crap the guys had left everywhere on the floor, and snuck out the door in the loose oversized flannel shirt I had slept in. I wanted to see the lake in the morning, to cling to one last bit of the magic that had happened at the end of the dock, last night.

The screen door on the main floor squeaked as I opened it to escape, and I was careful to close it without a bang. Most screen doors, you can just tell, are waiting to announce their presence to the sleeping world. The grass was wet with dew, as well as the gravel lining the path down to the dock. The rocks cut into my shoe-tender feet, but I didn't care. It was an honest pain, one that didn't shame me.

The lake lapped gently at the shoreline, creating ripples that went back and meet the lazy morning waves. The planks were cool on my bare feet, poking deeper the gravel rocks that had attached themselves to my soles. I rubbed the pebbles off on my leg and padded to the very end of the dock, sitting cross-legged where I could see nothing but the lake water.

Birds were beginning to announce which part of the lake was theirs to each other. A beautiful pair of black and white birds that swam like ducks slowly crossed the lake a dozen yards away, giving off haunting warbling calls. The place was so peaceful that I could feel it bringing life into me. It made you stop thinking and actually feel things. It would be the perfect place to write... if only I hadn't ruined my life.

Why had I ever tried to be a screenwriter? Such a useless thing, to write wistful stories and hope that they would touch someone with the power to make them matter. If I hadn't chased that silly dream, I wouldn't be trapped, now. Of course, if I hadn't chased that dream, I wouldn't have met Craig.

The lake magic happened again, and it was like I was floating along the top of the water, like one of those birds with the eerie calls. Soft rolling footsteps announced the presence of someone walking toward me on the dock. It definitely wasn't Braden, or one of the guys, the discipline of walking softly not really being a skill they had needed or bothered to cultivate. "How do you take your coffee?" Craig's voice asked quietly, crouching behind me as he wrapping an old, pilled blanket around my shoulders.

I turned and smiled up at him, the morning light making his freshly-shaved face glow. The smell of his shaving cream lingered in the air, reminding me piercingly of my father. "Um... kinda sweet and really creamy?"

"That figures," he said, tucking my hair back behind my ear, then rubbing my back gently. "Be right back," he said, standing and silently returning through the trees to the lodge.

Minutes later, he returned with two cups and handed me one before settling down next to me and dangling his feet off the dock.

"This is hot chocolate..." I said laughing, after taking a sip.

"Yeah, well, I have a theory that people who like their coffee sweet and creamy really just want some hot chocolate," he said, grinning as he watched me wrap my hands around the warm cup and greedily drink more.

"How do you take yours, then?" I asked, leaning over and looking into his cup.

"Today?" he asked, leaning toward me, "with you." He kissed my forehead, and I allowed myself to feel his lips on my skin for only two seconds before I ducked my head and glanced anxiously back at the lodge. "Sorry," he said, smirking.

"You're not sorry."

"I'm not sorry. How am I supposed to think about coffee when you're sitting in front of me looking adorable with bed head and a hot chocolate moustache? Get rid of that thing before I kiss it off."

Giggling, I rubbed my upper lip and presented myself to him again, "Better?" I asked.

Craig took my chin in his hand and tilted my head from side to side, then just stared for a long moment, "Perf—"

"HEY BEAVER! MORNING WOOD! CHOP CHOP!" Braden yelled, standing on the balcony with an erection in his boxer briefs.

I cringed and tried to pull back, to scramble away from the incriminating scene, but Craig held me there and just brushed his thumb along the lower lashes of my eye. "Got it," he said stone-faced, looking at the nothing on his thumb as if he'd been helping me get something out of my eye.

"Thanks," I said, looking away from his face as I teared up and blinked a little. "Excuse me," I murmured, and ran back to the lodge.

Ninety-seven minutes later after fulfilling several contractual duties for the guys, I went out onto the balcony for the fifth time and modeled another bikini, shivering in the cool morning air. "Ugh, no! What did you even bring that one for, idiot? Black is for the yacht!" Braden yelled, looking at me through his phone to check the look. "Did you fucking eat something? What the hell? You look like a pregnant manatee! Your belly's bulging out and that thing's cutting into your ass in back! Fuck, you're useless! Take it off, do a bronzer on your fat ass, put on a robe and get out here! We're losing the light!"