Page 33 of Diving In

I hadn’t really stepped foot into the water other than the occasional toe-dip in the ocean whenever we went to Nantucket with Ian’s family. Despite his entire family constantly nagging me, saying that I was no fun and that there was nothing to be afraid of, I never said anything to them about my fears. I preferred to just avoid situations involving water at all costs.

But Cal knew, and to make matters worse, he’d put me on the spot in front of all these little kids. That bothered me, but I trudged forward, not feeling like there were any other options and not wanting to influence any of the children with my own fear.

As I stepped into the water, I could feel the forty-five-degree water rush through the tiny holes in my suit, the coldness snatching my breath away. I was trying to remain calm, take deep breaths, and remember everything that Cal had told me. I grasped onto his words in hopes they’d provide me with some steadiness even as my heart rate was rapidly increasing. I repeated his instructions to myself over and over again. “Stay at the front, scatter the food, stay away from the penguins.”

I felt Cal’s eyes on me, practically burning a hole through my wet suit.

This morning I woke up and figured I would be hopping back on a plane to New York, and instead I was facing my fear, submerging myself in water while dipping my hands in a fish smoothie to feed penguins.

I started to feel strangely proud of myself when I made it knee-deep. I boasted a bit, realizing that I could do this. I couldreallydo this. I looked back at Cal, hoping he was watching, almost desperate for his approval.

He was, and the smile on his face was proof that he understood how important this moment was.

“You’re almost there, just get out a little deeper. You want to make sure the food is evenly spread out,” he said, encouraging me.

His reassurance gave me the push I needed. I turned to take the next step, and just as quickly as I found my footing, I lost it again. There it was, the world showing me just how suddenly things can change, staring me in the face with no remorse at all. I promptly lost all control of my body, feeling the rush of cold as my whole body submerged itself underwater, my mouth taking in a big gulp as I sunk underwater. I really hoped this wasn’t what Jack meant when he said, “the rush of blood as you jump into the water,”because this was absolutely everything I was trying to avoid.

I was desperately trying to resurface when I felt my foot latch in between the handle and the bucket, rendering it almost impossible to make it back to the surface.

My nervousness was growing into a full-blown panic. I wanted to scream at Cal for making me do this, I wanted to yell at Jack and tell him that this was exactly why I never wanted to enter the water again, and I wanted to tell Fletcher that I wished he never would’ve left for that dive. I couldn’t do any of that though. All I could do was watch as my vision became more and more blurry.

When I was little, Fletcher had taught me that if I was ever in a scary situation underwater, I just needed to stop, hold my breath, and count to three. He always said that it would give me time to get my head screwed on properly instead of panicking. It would allow me a few seconds to get my bearings straight, make a plan, and execute it safely without wasting too much time.

So, I did the only thing I knew to do. I held my breath and counted to three.

Except this time, I didn’t even get to two before I heard a loud commotion above my head, simultaneously feeling a pair of arms grip my waist. It all happened so fast that before I realized it, I was out of the water. I felt every set of eyes on me, the entire audience silent as they stared in my direction.

Cal hovered above me, his damp hair dripping onto my face as he whispered, “Georgia, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I stated, even though I was completely humiliated. I swiftly pushed him out of my way, stood up, and brushed myself off, trying to pretend like nothing had happened.

Regardless of how hard I tried, I just couldn’t handle it. There were too many emotions, too many flashbacks, and too many eyes on me. I rotated myself around and strolled back through the same doors I had so willingly come through only a few minutes before.

After what felt like hours, the changing room doors finally shut, and I found myself pushed up against the lockers, clenching myself so tightly that I left fingernail indentions on the outside of both my arms. Before I knew it, the waterworks came flooding down, willful and chaotic. I just needed to sit, I needed to breathe, and I needed to realize that I was going to be okay, despite how the last fifteen minutes had played out.

Once I allowed myself to get worked up, I felt like I was never going to come back down, and that feeling was absolutely suffocating. It was that kind of irrational and greedy anxiety that was the worst kind.

“This right here is exactly why I don’t go in the fucking water,” I said to myself. “I’ve said it a million times before… Once you’re in the water, you give up all control. There’s no chance of getting it back until both feet are planted firmly on the ground,” I continued, trying to use my words to silence the noise swirling around my body. “You’re out of the water and both feet are on the ground… Breathe.”

I closed my eyes, listening for any signs that my breath was returning to normal.

After a few seconds, my breathing regulated, or at least slowed down enough for me to get up. I needed to get out of this aquarium. As I stood, the squelch of my wetsuit reminded me that I was still wearing the damn thing. Reaching for the zipper proved to be more of a task than I anticipated.

Frustrated, I arched my back, stretching my arms to find the tiny piece of metal that was now stuck, smack dab in the middle of my back. I attempted to wiggle my body free, but the stretchy black material was suctioned to my skin. I could’ve screamed, and I probably would’ve had I not felt a presence behind me. There were no words, just a familiar warm body faintly pressed against me. That was all I needed to instantly release a slow exhale, finding the air I so desperately needed.

“Let me,” Cal said, his breath hot, making the hair on the back of my neck spike up. His fingertips were soft against my bare skin as he traced my spine, slowly dragging them down until he reached the zipper.

Typically, one wears a swimsuit under these things, but due to the fact that I had no intention of swimming when I left Jack’s house this morning, I was without said swimsuit. My vulnerability made this interaction feel way more intimate than it should’ve been. Even though I had no control and currently had emotional whiplash, the desire urgently crawled over my skin, making me wish the zipper would’ve been three times longer than it was, just so I could feel his skin on mine a little longer.

Tugging at the metal, he unzipped it the rest of the way, pausing just as he got to the bottom.

“I’m sorry,” fell from his lips, his breath sending shivers through me. “I knew you were afraid of the water, but I hoped this was a way to ease in. I understand where your fear comes from, and it’s totally valid. Water is intimidating, unpredictable, and sometimes even menacing. It’s the most infinite thing on the planet.” There was a short pause before he finished, “Butwaterisn’t what took Fletcher.”

I spun around at hearing my brother’s name leave his lips. Gone was my desire, and in its place was the fuel my anger had been searching for. “How could you even say that? You have no fucking right!” I screamed.

“Georgia—”

“Water is exactly what took Fletcher. You might have known both Fletcher and Jack. Hell, Jack might have even been someone you admired, someone you cared about. But you don’t know me, and you sure as fuck have no idea what it was like living on this island after his death, being literally engulfed by the one thing that took the most important person from me.”

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