It was Jordan’s lake. Well, she never owned it, but it was her neighborhood lake out in Solon, Ohio. It was where she learned to swim, where she and the other neighbors used to bike to every day in the summer, and where she was a lifeguard in high school. Before we jumped in, Jordan, her dad, Truman, and I had gone trail running in the nearby Metropark. It wasn’t a huge park or a wild one, but it was enough of both of these things that Truman and I got lost and dogs could be off leash.

We were sneaking into this lake, in a way, since Jordan’s family doesn’t live in Solon anymore, and she has no more claim to this lake than I have to the high school I went to ten years ago. No one stopped us though. As Truman noticed while watching Jordan and me walk to the car, we don’t look like kids anymore. No, we look like adults, perhaps even new homeowners in Solon. And while I was treading water in this lake, I had this feeling that after a nice place to run and a natural body of water to swim in, the rest was just details.