Red Kayak Quotes

My dad says stop thinking that way. “You be lookin’ backward all the time, Brady, you’re gonna have one heck of a crook in the neck.” He smiles when he says that. But I know what he means deep down, and it’s not funny. You can’t keep dwelling on the past when you can’t undo it. You can’t make it happen any different than it did.

It's just that sometimes," he said, "even when the right answer is smack in front of you, you got to reach deep inside yourself to act on it. You know what I'm sayin'?

Damian smirks. “Why don’t you tell him what we were discussing, Keats? Peyton and I are going to kayak for a bit.” When Peyton walks out of the house, Damian jumps up, kisses her in greeting, then grabs her hand and pulls her toward the boat.   Aiden puts his smoothie glass against mine. “This is really good. So, what were you talking about?” “Seeing a, um, penis for the first time.” “Is it an embarrassing story?” “No, I just . . . it’s just hard to comprehend the mechanics of sex when you’re young and you see it in its, um, natural state.” “Natural state? Like, out in the wild?” “No, not in the wild. I saw a boy’s—” I wave my hand slowly across my body. “— in its natural state.” “As opposed to its unnatural state?” “Its, um, softer state,” I finally say, trying not to think about how his felt in my hand. How I wanted to rip those sliders off his body. Touch it. Feel it. Taste it.   He leans in. “You’re thinking about last night right now, aren’t you?” I feel my cheeks turn red. Why am I such a prude about sex when it comes to Aiden? You’d think I’d never done it before. “I, uh . . .” Aiden arches an eyebrow at me. “Maybe tonight you can see it in its, uh, unnatural state,” he says with a laugh as he kisses my cheek.

A woman in a wetsuit is stroking her red kayak along the lagoon.

Angela found seven leeches on her calves after she returned the kayak and tried not to cry as she peeled them off. But Angela wasn’t crying about the leeches. Along with the bracelet, she felt she’d lost part of herself. The part that used to make paper dolls. The part that bicycled to the courts by herself. The part that remained in her parents’ house in the lonely bedroom above the garage. The part of her that was still innocent, a virgin, somebody’s little girl. Marcos returned at dusk, too high to notice Angela’s puffy, red face.

I chose a Sprite

If you know right from wrong, then the answer is always right there, smack in front of you. It's when you get to thinkin' on it that you get in trouble.