false memory

I remember seeing his car parked in front of the house, his mother’s large, unwavering smile. My brother’s merciless teasing for hanging with a boy in the full-blown cooties age of time (3rd grade). The car ride over was quite an event, Zach talked non-stop about the lake, giving me details and assuring me that he would show me the awesome water slide.
I remember the tall wooden cupboards in his large and pretty house on a hill, full of tasty snacks and I remember being offered frosted flake cereal and refusing out of politeness though I was actually dying for some. I remember changing into my blue and green bathing suit when he left the room.
I can see the lake clearly in my head. It was wide and gigantic with a small section roped off in which I later suffered as the “training” section where they determined if you could handle
the deep parts of the lake. I remember Zach arguing with the lifeguards, saying I didn’t need to tread water for five minutes and that I was a perfectly competent swimmer. They let me go before my five minutes were up and he immediately took me out far in the lake to the huge
water slide.
I remember the staircase up was metal and hot from the sun and when we got to the top I remember being terrified for the first time of my life. Zach noticed my hesitance and told me he
promised to go down with me and save me if I drowned if I gave him a kiss. So I kissed him lightly, blushing furiously. And then we went down the high and ridiculously fast water slide.