July 9, 2018

Six days before the regatta began, the Reinharts invited my family over for dinner. I spent most of that day with Véro, but even I acknowledged that I needed to spend more time with Eden. I had been a horrible friend since I met Véro: Eden and I had hardly spent any time together at all. Véro and I spent most of the morning and afternoon sailing, but around four o'clock, I insisted that we should head home.

"Why?" Véro asked, leaning over to kiss me again.

"I'm having dinner with my friend," I said.

"Oh, I didn't know that," Véro said. "Which friend?"

"Eden," I said. "My whole family is coming though, since my parents are friends with her parents."

"I see," Véro said. "Have fun with Eden!"

"Thanks, Véro," I said as we approached the pier. Both of us climbed out of the boat, and we went our separate ways. I wanted to embrace her and tell how much she meant to me before she left, but I was afraid that someone else would hear me.

I went inside, and less than an hour later, Mom, Dad, Everett, and I left again to go to the Reinharts' house. A part of me wished that Véro could tag along too, but I knew better. I had to spend some time with Eden, and bringing my new girlfriend (or whatever it was that we were now) along wouldn't be the best idea.

Dad turned on the classic rock station, but we only listened to half of a song before we arrived at the Reinharts' house. In many ways, Eden's home looked the same as mine - it was like we hadn't left our house at all. Dad parked the car in the Reinharts' driveway, and all of us got out of the car and walked up to the door. Everett pounded on the door, imitating some joke that he had seen on TV, and Dad told him to stop.

"Don't you get it?" Everett said, but Dad didn't have time to respond.

Mr. Reinhart opened the door and said, "Hey everyone! It's so good to see you guys."

"It's good to see you too, Theo," Dad said.

"Come on inside," Mr. Reinhart said. "It's been too hot outside lately. Sylvie, you look kind of sunburned. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I said. "I've been practicing for the regatta."

"I've been telling Eden and Brooke to do that, but they seem to just want to watch movies in our living room," Mr. Reinhart said.

That will just make them easier to beat, I thought before I chastised myself for even letting that come to my mind. Eden was my best friend. I would be happy for her if she won the regatta, because friends are always there for each other. I wouldn't let the fact that we were competing against each other in the regatta get in the way of our friendship.

As if on cue, Eden entered the living room. "We've been practicing all summer, Dad," she said. "Brooke and I deserve a break." All of a sudden, she noticed me and said, "Oh, hey Sylvie. I didn't see you there."

"Hi Eden," I said.

"How's it going?" Eden asked.

"Better than ever," I said, thinking of Véro. "How are you doing?"

"I'm okay," Eden said. "Why don't we go into the living room and chat?"

"That sounds like a good idea," I said.

"Can I come with you?" Everett asked.

"No," Eden and I said in unison. We then laughed and walked into the living room while Everett sulked in the kitchen.

"It feels like forever since I've really talked to you, but let's start with the important stuff," Eden said. "What did you think of Incredibles 2?"

"I haven't seen it yet," I said.

"What?!" Eden said. "How is that possible?"

"I've been busy," I insisted.

"Too busy to see Incredibles 2?" Eden said. "This seems unlike you, Sylvie."

I shrugged and said, "I'll see it this weekend when my cousins are here. Just don't spoil the movie for me."

"So at the end..." Eden said.

"Shut up!" I interrupted, and Eden laughed.

"I wasn't really going to spoil the movie," she said. "That would be mean of me."

"You were totally going to spoil Incredibles 2 for me," I said.

"I really wasn't," Eden said. "Anyways, what have you been up to?"

"Sailing, mostly," I said.

"I guess that's a valid excuse," Eden said. "I should be practicing more, but it's more fun to just hang out. How are things going with Véro?"

"Pretty well," I said, too afraid to elaborate. Even telling Eden about my relationship with Véro felt like going a step too far. Maybe someday I could tell her, but for now, I wanted to keep this secret for myself.

"That's nice," Eden said.

"Sylvie! Eden!" Mrs. Reinhart shouted. "Dinner's ready!"

Both Eden and I raced into the dining room, where Mr. and Mrs. Reinhart were serving pasta, salad, and garlic bread. I eagerly filled up my plate with food, and once everyone was in the dining room, I began to eat.

As I devoured my pasta, Dad and Mr. Reinhart started talking about Keep Clearwater Clear. "Pigglyville is the real problem here," Mr. Reinhart said. "They're the ones who won't stop dumping chemicals into Clearwater Lake."

"You're right, but how are we supposed to turn the yacht club against them?" Dad said. "They're a toy company, for goodness' sake, and Greg is an executive there. People are going to naturally side with him."

"Not necessarily," Mr. Reinhart said. "We have facts on our side. All Pigglyville has are lies and pathetic emotional appeals."

"That might be enough," Dad said. "Pigglyville Toys, Inc. is a powerful force around here."

"You're right," Mr. Reinhart said. "There has to be a way though."

"I agree," Dad said. "I just don't know how we're going to clean up the lake when the vice commodore is in charge of the company that's creating all of this pollution."

"Doesn't Pigglyville have some sort of meeting coming up?" Mom said.

"I did hear something from Greg about a shareholders' meeting next month," Mr. Reinhart said.

"Maybe we could hold a protest there," Mrs. Reinhart suggested. "If the Pigglyville executives won't listen, then maybe their stockholders will."

"I like that idea," Kelsey, who had been silent up until that point, said. "It's crazy how disgusting this lake has gotten."

"You don't even live here anymore," Eden argued.

"I live here in the summers," Kelsey said as she took a bite of her pasta. "That's good enough."

"You two don't need to argue," Mr. Reinhart said. "Anyways, I do like the idea of protesting at the Pigglyville shareholders' meeting. Phil, Audrey, what do you two think?"

"If it will get Pigglyville to listen to us, then it's worth a try," Dad said.

"I agree," Mom said.

"What about us?" Eden said. "I want to be involved in this too."

"You kids can help out if you'd like," Mr. Reinhart said.

"I want to help," I said without thinking. It wasn't a decision that required much consideration. All my life, I had been told that someone needed to do something to clean up Clearwater Lake, and this was our opportunity.

"That's nice of you, Sylvie," Mr. Reinhart said. "Could someone please look up when exactly the shareholders' meeting is?"

Kelsey pulled out her phone and then said, "It's on August 4th."

"I don't have anything going on that day," I said.

"Me neither," Eden said.

"Great," Dad said. "Then you two will be able to help us out."

"The shareholders' meeting is still a while away, but we'll be busy with the regatta," Mom noted. "Maybe we should start preparing now."

"I'm not sure that's necessary," Mrs. Reinhart said. "It's nearly a month away."

"The regatta will take up three weeks of that time," Mom said.

"I won't be in the regatta," Everett said.

"Nobody cares, Everett," I said.

"You'll still be watching your family compete," Dad said.

"I don't want to watch you guys," Everett grumbled, but Dad didn't hear him.

"You two should be nicer to each other," Dad said.

"Phil, don't be such a hypocrite," Mr. Reinhart said. "We both know that you were awful to Holly when you were a kid."

"And I regret every mean thing that I ever said to her," Dad said. "I want my children to be better than I was."

"That's hard when Sylvie's such a jerk," Everett said.

"No, you're the one who's being a jerk," I said.

"This is exactly what I'm talking about!" Dad exclaimed.

Eden quickly finished off her dinner and asked her parents if she could be excused. When they said yes to Eden, I did the same, and the two of us went into her bedroom. "Siblings are the worst," Eden complained.

"No kidding," I said as I looked toward the box of stuffed animals sitting underneath a poster of Brendon Urie. At least half of them had prominent Pigglyville Toys logos, making me realize just how difficult this protest would be. I had a similar box in my house - nearly all of Clearwater Lake's children had grown up with toys from Pigglyville. How could we tell people that a company that catered almost exclusively to children was polluting our lake? How could we protest against a piece of the town's nostalgia?

"What are you looking at, Sylvie?" Eden asked. "I mean, Brendon Urie's pretty hot, but I thought you were gay..."

"I was looking at the stuffed animal box," I explained. "Most of those toys are from Pigglyville."

"Yeah, it's kind of weird to think that the same company that made Zazie the Zebra is also dumping chemicals into the lake," Eden said. "Sometimes people aren't who we think they are though."

"That's certainly true," I said as I looked toward the stuffed animal box again, remembering the days when we had played with those toys. "I'm kind of excited for this protest."

"Me too," Eden said. "Pigglyville needs to know that what they're doing isn't okay."

"I agree," I said. "Maybe the lake will finally clear up."

"Wouldn't that be nice?" Eden said. "When Kelsey and I were little, our parents used to show us pictures that our great-grandparents took of Clearwater Lake when they first arrived here in the 1930s. It's insane how much has changed since then. The lake looked totally different back then."

I nodded - I had seen that picture too, since it was on the homepage for the Keep Clearwater Clear website. I could only dream of a day when the lake would look like that again, with water so clear that you could actually see the bottom. Maybe the Pigglyville protest would make that dream come true.

Eden and I talked about the Pigglyville protest for a while, but eventually, my parents and Mr. and Mrs. Reinhart called us into the Reinharts' garage to help them make signs. I eagerly ran into the garage, and Eden and I painted slogans onto signs, more than happy to help. For a while, we were certain that we could actually make a difference. We would protest at Pigglyville, and then all of our problems would go away. Clearwater Lake really would be clear again.

I dipped my paintbrush in a bucket of red paint and wrote out "Keep Clearwater Clear" in huge letters, thinking that somehow, just seeing our organization's name would convince Pigglyville to stop dumping chemicals into our lake. Dad walked by and told me to keep up the good work, and I beamed, glad that I could help support the cause. I had never seen a truly clean Clearwater Lake, and neither had Dad, but it was a nice thought. Maybe someday, Véro and I would even get to sail over clear water, just like my great-grandparents had.

Perhaps it was premature, but I had a feeling that the protest would be a success.