The Midnight Swim That Almost Got Us Suspended

Every step Robbie took reminded him that he was, once again, doing something completely against the rules.

“Relax,” Sawyer whispered, leading the way. His mischievous grin glowing in the moonlight. This kid was borne for trouble, the good kind. “This is my spot. Trust me, it’s worth it.” Sawyer’s face always glowed with mischief, even in the dark. He always had that look, the one that made you want to follow, even if you knew you probably shouldn’t.

Behind him, Adam puffed along with a worried look. “If we get caught, Kyle’s gonna kill us.”

“Correction,” Alex said. “Kyle’s gonna make us stand at attention in front of the troop for forty five minutes while he lectures us troop discipline. Death will be better.”

“If we are caught out of our tents at… what time is it?” Robbie asks the others.

“Midnight,” Sawyer answers. “The best part of the night.”

“If we’re caught out of our tents at midnight, we’ll be booted from the troop. This better be worth it, Sawyer” Robbie finishes

“It’s worth it,” Sawyer reassures them like a used car salesman.

The boys snickered, but Robbie stayed quiet. He wanted to believe Sawyer. He wanted to feel like one of the guys. But his stomach still twisted every time he broke a rule.

Deep down, Robbie was glad he was going. Robbie’s mind was stuck on his dad who died two years ago, starting a long struggle with depression, on Seattle this new town he moved to with his mom just 60 days ago, on fitting in with these new friends, thrown together in a patrol because nobody else wanted them. He was just starting to figure out where he belonged.

Here in the deep woods of the Pacific Northwest, Robbie had never seen so many stars. The night sky over Olympic National Park was so clear every star and planet was visible. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and ancient fir trees. It was welcome change from the visual and noise pollution of the city.

Sawyer, leading the way, seemed to know every twist and turn of the trail. It’s obvious he’s been here before. Deeper into the woods, he led the way, ducking branches, barely making a sound. The boys crested a ridge, pushed through the last line of pines, and there it was: a hidden lake, its surface still as glass, reflecting the starry sky. The air was colder here, fresher, and tinged with the clean smell of the trees. Lake Crescent, the moonlight stretched across it like a painting.

“Holy crap,” Robbie whispered.

“Told you,” Sawyer said, arms spread like a magician revealing his trick. “Best spot in Olympic National Park. And tonight, gentlemen, it’s ours.” A note of triumph filled his voice.

Adam squinted. “For what?”

“Midnight swim,” Sawyer announced.

Alex laughed. “You’re insane.”

“You’re welcome,” Sawyer shot back, as he pulled his shirt off without a second thought. Then he kicked off his boots, socks and dropped his hiking shorts and his underwear. They guys recoiled is shock and disbelief at the sudden sight of their friend standing buck naked next to them on the shore. Not a care in the world. Sawyer bolted to the water edge running straight into the water, sending ripples like ridges on a vinyl record across the lake, his small white untanned ass reflecting in the moonlight.

“Come on, don’t chicken out. It’s tradition. Gotta go all in. Skinny dipping only.” Sawyer called back to the group before he dove under water.

“Tradition? What tradition?” Robbie thought.

Robbie and the boys hesitated, but watching their friend’s brash confidence was all it took.

“Are we really doing this?” Robbie asked.

“Death or Glory,” Alex replied, quoting our favorite song by The Clash. Alex immediately follows suit, drop trou and bolts for the water. It took only thirty seconds before all four boys drop shorts and splash into the icy lake, shouts echoing through the trees.

For that a moment, Robbie forgot everything, the move, his dad, even his anxiety. It was just them and the water, laughing until their sides hurt. The water was an icy cold shock yet invigorating. They splashed and swam, had water fights and contest of how long they could hold their breath under water. They forgot about the rules, about their overly disciplining leader Kyle, about everything outside the bubble they made in this hidden paradise.

Then Alex made a weird face. “Shhh! Did you hear that?”

From somewhere back in the woods, a stick snapped. Then another. Heavy boots on moss.

Then came the voice.

“WHO’S OUT THERE?”

The boys froze.

“Oh crap,” Adam whispered. “Is that—?”

“Kyle,” Sawyer mouthed, eyes wide.

Kyle, the Senior Troop Leader. The one with the whistle and the rulebook and the uncanny ability to kill fun from fifty yards away was tracking them. A sudden silence fell upon the group. The distant sound of a cracking twig. Then another. And another. The crunch of boot on pine needles. The sounds were rhythmic, purposeful.

Every Scout in the troop knew the sound of Kyle’s patrol-leader bark: mid puberty voice cracking, clipped, angry, trying to sound like a drill sergeant but really sounding like a yapping puppy who’d swallowed a whistling chew toy.

“Scatter!” Sawyer hissed.

Panic replaced joy. The lake exploded with splashes as the boys bolted for shore, grabbing nothing, sprinting barefoot through brush with their clothes abandoned behind them. There wasn’t time to get dressed. The rhythmic crunching was getting closer.

“Go! Go!” Robbie whispered desperately. As they bolted into the trees, branches whipped their legs. Rocks stabbed their feet. Adam tripped twice but scrambled up, fueled by pure terror. Robbie’s lungs burned. His bare feet slapped the trail. He glanced back, Sawyer was right behind him, grinning like a lunatic. Adam was wheezing but still going. Alex tripped on a root and rolled, then popped up, covered in pine needles.

Robbie’s heart slammed in his chest. He’d never felt so alive, or so naked.

Behind them, Kyle’s flashlight beam cut through the trees.

“YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY? YOU’RE DISGRACING THE TROOP!”

And so, they ran. Four naked boys, fleeing through the dark woods of Olympic National Park. They could hear Kyle’s voice now, a low shout,

“Sawyer! I know you’re out here!”

They burst through the last thicket and dove into their tent, hearts hammering, limbs tangled, the whole tent shaking with suppressed laughter. Someone pulled the zipper shut just as a flashlight beam sliced across the clearing.

Outside, Kyle’s voice was pure rage. “If I find out who’s sneaking around, there’ll be consequences. Big ones.”

Inside their tent , the boys bit their fists to keep from laughing out loud. They were cold, naked, and probably in serious trouble. But for the first time in a long time, Robbie felt like he belonged. He grinned at the others, and they grinned back, wide-eyed and wild and free.

Kyle’s jaw flexed as he opened their tent and peered in, his flashlight slicing across their fake-sleeping faces. He knew. They knew he knew. But he couldn’t prove a thing.

Finally, with a disgusted grunt, he snapped off the light.
“Tomorrow morning,” he growled, “inspection will be brutal.”

When he stormed off, Sawyer whispered into the dark:
“Totally worth it.”

Robbie grinned, heart still hammering. For once, he agreed. It was the best night he’d had since moving to Seattle.

And in the morning, when the patrol lined up and Kyle glared at them all, no one said a word about the midnight swim or the missing underwear. It was their secret, and for Robbie, that was enough.