Lakeside (Open)

[Kristina Novak]

Kristina stared at the open water, rather, the closest thing to open water she could get in Vermont. The lake was an interesting place to take photographs. She already had hundreds of shots, from winter mornings to late summer nights. From shots of just the water, to a wider perspective of the scene. For once, her camera wasn't in her possession, but back at the apartment. Kristina sometimes forgot she enjoyed other art, such as sketching. 

She sat cross legged in a nice patch of dry grass, as the weather had been favourable lately. On her lap, was a sketchbook not even half full with sketches. Ever since starting university, Kristina's world revolved around her camera and taking photos to add to her portfolio, and any left over free time was spent either studying for other classes or going to the occasional party. The latter had been more frequently, and since finals were coming up soon, the Czech girl knew she had to cut back and isolate herself to focus on her studies. Especially English class. She made a face of disgust, staring back down at the charcoal image coming to life on the paper. The lake in front of her, a scattering of trees to the side. A faint silhouette of someone else enjoy the quiet morning near the water. She observed them, squinting into the distance, trying to capture all of the details.

Eventually, she would work on revising and editing her essay. Kristina believed she deserved a break after waking up early to finish the last bit of the essay and another small assignment. The figure in the distance came closer, and the dark haired girl's eyes fell back on the sketchbook.

[Greg Mackenzie]

Nine days.

It’s been nine days since Mémé passed. Nine days since he’s been in her room, surrounded with the rest of the clan. Nine days since he sat beside her, clutching her hand tightly as she took her last breath. And yet he could still smell those handmade jasmine candles she loved making. He could still hear the wind chimes that Pépé made for her before their wedding night. He could still feel that refreshingly cold springtime Montreal breeze. Mémé has been dead for nine days, and yet she’s still very much alive in Greg’s brain.

He knew he shouldn’t have held her hand. Four months of training had taught him how to control his power – how to minimize the side effects and uncontrolled manifestations, and even do a little voluntary mind-probing if he wished to. But it hasn’t prepared him for the onslaught that came with a dying person’s last moments. How everything, every thought, memory and emotion, just rushes to the surface in those moments, and how overwhelming it is. How it’s stronger when the bond you share with that person was great. How it gets amplified a bit more when you’re surrounded by intense emotions directed to that person.

Nothing could’ve prepared him for that. Nothing.

He’s been back to Hammel for three days now, and his old methods weren’t working. It’s like he’s back to square one. Only worse, cause he’s also an emotional wreck. Not that he’d admit it.

He wished Richard was here right now. He’d know the right things to say, the right things to do.

But since he wasn’t, and the weather’s cleared up, the Canadian grabbed a hoodie and went out for a run around the lake. He’s never run to clear his head before, but there’s a first time to everything right?

Not really thinking ahead before he set off to run around the lake, he stopped to catch his breath beside a girl who seemed to be a little too engrossed with her sketchbook to care. “Hey, umm, you know what time it is?”

[Kristina Novak]

Once the Czech girl noticed that the stranger was approaching, her eyes landed back on the sketchbook, mostly out of respect and a bit of fear. She was use to people asking what she was doing and why she was taking photos/drawing them etc. Her fingers gripped the charcoal pencil, as her careful, steady strokes began filling the cream coloured pages.

She ran a hand over the side braid in her hair, drawing more inspiration from the scene in front of her. The pace picked up, and Kristina had completely zoned out from the world around her. It took her a moment to realize that someone... the once black silhouette in the distance, since there was nobody else by the lake, was now next to her.

Kristina blinked, looking up with a confused expression. "Oh, sorry... uh, it's 9:30 am." She said, checking her phone that rested on top of her bag.

She flipped the pages of her sketchbook close, even though the boy had probably already seen what was coming to life on the page in front of her. Kristina offered him a tight lipped smile. "Nice morning." She commented. It was a feeble attempt, but Kristina was trying to improve her social skills. Since getting her job at the high end clothing store, she liked to think it was getting better.

[Greg Mackenzie]

Greg did not expect the run to take this much out of him. Clearly he’s been quite out of shape. Not enough to make him all flabby and droopy, but enough to make him pant so much. He’s been in lacrosse games much tougher than this, and his breathing was far more controlled by then. He really needed to get some sports activities back in his life, as clearly going to the weights room almost daily just wasn’t cutting it.

He was in the middle of trying to catch his breath – bent over with his head down, legs wide apart and hands on his knees for support – when the girl told him what time it was. “Oh great,” he said two seconds after, shaking his head as he sat a few paces from where the girl was sitting, “Tons of time then. Thanks.” Enough time to take a quick break, go around the lake one more time, get back to Hammel, shower and still get to his first class five minutes early. He so loved how late his Monday classes started.

Greg sat with his legs stretched and his back arched, both his hands now on the ground as his arm acted to support his form as he leaned his head back. “It so is. So excited for summer to finally come.” First summer away from either his mother or father after all. He’s not quite sure if he’s coming home for the break – not with this heavy of a secret on his shoulder – but he wasn’t quite sure if he’d be down spending the better part of it locked up within the four walls of campus. Don’t get him wrong, he loved the place, but at four months, he’s starting to feel a little bit bored.

Contrary to what she thought, Greg hadn’t seen what the girl was doing up until he sat down; he was way too busy trying to catch his breath to think about said things. “A sketchbook? Nice. The place is rather majestic. If you ignore the scattered dog poo lazy owners left behind along the trails.” The whole serene scene reminded him of a similar lake back in his hometown, and how he and his best friend saw so much dog shit lying around during their graduation weekend, they devised a drinking game around it.

They were drunk even before they got halfway around the lake.

[Kristina Novak]

Kristina was a bit surprised when the unfamiliar boy sat down nearby. She figured that her posture and facial expression would have kept most people at bay. Not that she intended to drive people away... it was just the type of person the Czech girl was. Kristina shifted in her place on the ground, turning her body so it now faced the stranger. "No problem." Kristina politely smiled again, twirling her fingers through the bottom part of her braid idly.

Nodding in agreement, Kristina stared up into the clear skies with a smile on her face. Summer meant that there would be a bitch of a glare on her photos if she wasn't careful, but thankfully, over the years had enough experience to avoid the faux-pas. Summer always provided interesting subject matter as well. "Same here, tired of this Vermont winter." She added with a light laugh.

Looking to her lap where her sketchbook lay, Kristina's smile widened. She smoothed her hand over the cover, nodding again. "It is." Kristina agreed, chuckling at him mentioning scattered dog poo. "It's hard to find an area here not covered with it. Thankfully, this spot is clear." The dark haired girl's eyes scanned across the water, before landing on the man. "Kristina. I'm Kristina."