Some people spend their time away from school going to see exotic places, others pick up a hobby, and some even stare at birds for a while, whatever that's about. But I'm spending mine with my feet stuck in mud.

Ladies and gentlemen, I welcome you to the lake near Jefferson Middle School. While I'm sure there's a name for it somewhere, no one knows what it is or even pretends to care. Most of the locals, my group of friends included, just call it The Puddle. During the spring, The Puddle is a massive tourist attraction, bringing in thousands upon thousands of mosquitoes from all over the county. To capitalize on the event, some nearby camps shackle up small children and march them to boats that skim the brown water. There aren't any such inmate outings today, but for some reason, my best friend TJ decided to bring me here, no camp wardens necessary.

The Puddle might not be much to look at, but I've still got a wonderful view. Blond hair sweeps up in a quiff above TJ's jewel-tone green eyes. Warm athletic arms hang at the sides of his tall torso, standing on top of long, strong legs. I've seen plenty of good looking people, but there's something about the one standing in front of me that's just beautiful. Maybe it's the things we've been through together. He's seen me through hard parts of my life, and I've seen him through mistakes that cost him things that I used to believe meant the world to him. Maybe what means the most to both of us has changed over the past year.

"Cyrus!" TJ shouts when he sees me. "What's up?"

"I was really hoping you knew, since you brought me here."

"Right," he says, starting to smile, "I've got a surprise for you."

"Here? I mean, I'm flattered, and grateful, but…here?"

"There aren't many other lakes around here."

"Why does there have to be a lake?"

"Because I'm going to teach you to swim," he says, his face glowing.

It's true, I don't know how to swim. Water is one of the many things that scares me, so I never learned. I never had to; drowning isn't a risk if you're never in water. That's one of the items on a list of basic physical activities that I can't do.

"Couldn't this happen at a pool? Pools smell less."

"Sure it could," he says, "but I like this lake. And that's besides the point. Point is, you're going to learn how to swim!"

He's deliriously excited, like a honey bee that just found a huge field of flowers. I almost feel bad that my complete lack of physical ability is going to hit him like a fly swatter.

"Are you sure that's a good idea? I mean, the worst thing that could happen to a somersault is rolling backwards, but swimming could end in drowning."

"It's a great idea," he says, "and you're not going to drown. I'm going to be here the whole time."

"That's great and all," I say, "but I didn't bring a swimsuit."

"Luckily, you've got one of the best planners within 20 feet of The Puddle right next to you. I know you don't own any, so I got this for you," he says, handing me a green swimsuit covered with tiny flamingoes.

He apprehensively watches me take the suit. "If you don't like it I can take it back and exchange it for—"

"I love it," I say. "Really, thank you so much."

Flamingoes. He remembered my fear of flamingoes.

He is visibly relieved. "Then go put it on! We've got water to tread."

I put it on in the bathrooms near the lake, and take a moment to look at it on my body through the mirror. It's a perfect fit. I can't believe he remembered the flamingoes. It's one of the most thoughtful gifts I've gotten in years.

"Lookin' good, Underdog," TJ says as I walk back over to him.

"Credit to my stylist," I say. "So what's the first lesson?"

"Getting in the water."

Crap. The thoughtful swimsuit had distracted me from the entire concept of water.

"Is that ok?" TJ asks, seeing my hesitation.

"Yeah, it's just," I say, searching for an excuse, "I don't want to get my new swimsuit dirty from that water." A bubble detonates on the brackish surface. "It just doesn't look very clean."

"It's just a little muddy, and mud is good! Spas use the stuff all the time. It's good for the skin," he says, clearly not buying it. "Why don't I show you how it's done first?"

He kicks off his flip-flops and starts to make his way towards the water. I want to be able to go with him, but water is always going to be water, even if TJ is swimming in it.

He gets just far enough out for his feet to be hidden by the murky surface when he stops, takes his shirt off, and throws it towards the rest of his dry clothes.

Well, if it's good for the skin…

I throw my shoes off and wiggle gracelessly out of my shirt. I don't want to make a fool of myself in front of TJ, but if I'm too slow I might lose my confidence. I have to do this. I have to do this.

Without taking a single moment to talk myself out of it, I run towards the shoreline and stomp into the water until I can feel it swirling around my waist. I look around to find TJ, covered in muck and shielding his face. Oops.

"I'm so sorry!" I can feel my cheeks turning red.

"You're in the water!"

"I…what?" I say.

"You're in the water," he repeats. "I knew you could do it!" He's beaming at me gleefully.

I'm in the water! Oh god, I'm in water!

"You're right, I am!" I shout back nervously.

Don't panic don't panic don't panic.

He wades over to me and wipes some of the mud off his arms. "How do you feel?"

Nervous. Terrified. Panicky.

"Wonderful!" I lie.

He puts his hand up in the air, perpendicular with the water. I'm not completely sure how that ends, so I mimic him. His hand lunges forward, wraps around mine, and pulls me towards him in some kind of pseudo-hug. I have no idea what this exchange is, but I know I want another.

He releases me and immediately starts the swimming lesson. "First, you have to learn to float," he says, his face growing uncertain. "I'll have my arms underneath you the whole time, just in case. I promise."

I'm not completely convinced, but being in TJ's arms is not worth passing up. "What do I do first?"

His face brightens up, and he holds his arms out in front of him. "Just lean back, kind of like a trust-fall, towards my arms. I'll lower your upper half until you're completely flat against the surface of the water."

I have no instincts, but leaning back towards water, even if TJ's arms are there, brings out a primal terror I didn't know I had. I want to stop and run for my life, but before I get the chance, TJ's arms meet my back softly. His touch makes me start to relax a little, and I keep leaning back, bringing my legs away from the bottom of the lake as my back gets further and further submerged. Soon, the water laps over my ears, and I can barely hear the world around me. My legs are completely level with my head, and I'm staring up into TJ's eyes. Pretty, pretty eyes.

"How are…feeling?" he says between waves of water covering my ears.

"Weightless." That has nothing to do with the water. I'm cradled in his arms, staring into his eyes. The rest of the world doesn't matter right now.

"Cyrus," he says.

"Yeah?"

"You're floating." He holds his arms up above me.

His arms aren't underneath me. I'm not attached to anything. Must. Find. Ground.

"Ok, floating is done," I say, scrambling to get my feet against solid ground.

"Is this making you nervous? It's ok if it is, but you should really tell me."

"No, I loved floating," I say. "But I really want to love the next part now."

That was half true. I did like floating, or at least, I liked the parts that didn't involve water.

We spend the next few hours going over something called a breaststroke, freestyle swim, and backstroke. They're all strange ways to move, but weirdly enjoyable at the same time.

After the lesson ends, we both go dry off with the towels TJ brought. There are lawn chairs sitting on a grassy area nearby, and no one is around to claim them, so we decide to sit down for a while and take in the day.

"Do you think these chairs belong to someone?" I ask.

"Probably a family of bears trying to lure in unsuspecting middle schoolers," he says.

"Can bears swim?"

"We'll find out when we're swimming away from them."

"Good point. Hey, can I ask you something?" I say, turning towards him.

"Go for it," he says.

"Earlier you said you like this lake. Why?"

"Because it's honest."

"I think you've had a little too much sun," I say.

He laughs softly. "I'm serious. Just look at it for a moment. Every wart and blemish, every reason it's not beautiful, is right there at the surface for the world to see. It's not trying to be a scenic lake with clear water and lots of birds or something, it just is what it is, and it's ok with that. Completely and totally honest."

He's looking at the lake longingly, like there's something buried in the middle of it that he just can't get to, no matter how much he'd like to.

"I must sound crazy right now, but that's why I like this lake. And, I don't know, I was kind of hoping that you'd like it, too," he says.

"I did not like this lake before today. But now," I pause for a moment to find the right words. "There's something beautiful to me about it now. Thank you for that, TJ. You've taught me a lot today."

"I love sharing moments like this with you, Cyrus. You're the only person I can do this with. You don't have anything to thank me for."

His buzzing phone interrupts the calm silence. "I have to get to work now, but I'll text you later, alright?"

"I'll talk to you then," I say.

Ladies and gentlemen, I welcome you to The Puddle, the most honest place on earth.