Page 4 of Pretty Heartache

Water rushes in my ears. The sound of the people outside and the swimmers surrounding me are silenced while I sink to the bottom.

The dying grip I once had on my makeup bag loosens, allowing it to float to the surface. Instinct tells me to immediately kick back to the surface. My lungs burn from the air caught in my throat, shocked from Grant’s shove. I open my eyes and allow the water to burn, mixing with the tears I already know I’m shedding.

Is it possible to die from embarrassment? How did this day suddenly turn into a nightmare?

I stay under the water as long as my body allows.

The world is quiet and still down here. I’m completely alone. I imagine the grin of satisfaction on Grant’s face. I imagine Micah wrapping his arms around the woman at the bar. I imagine Ember flirting with Teddy, not caring that I haven’t returned from the bathroom yet.

My chest squeezes, and my lungs burn as raw as my eyes.

I may only be eleven, but it feels as if all my dreams have been shattered in this moment. I don’t want to face the world. I wish I could hide from this one and emerge in my own. One where I’m in control. One where I’m a successful model, living far away from all the elites who feel superior.

People surround me in the pool. Their headless bodies kick and swim around me, but I’m completely alone. Dark spots fill my vision, and my head feels light. I feel weightless and free under here.

Bubbles escape my mouth while my lungs attempt to hold onto the only bit of oxygen left in them. I point my toes and prepare to kick to the surface when two arms wrap around my waist from behind. I’m suddenly pulled and dragged to the surface, and I let my arms fall to the side, surrendering myselfto the world above. A sob escapes me one last time before I’m suddenly gasping for air once I break the surface.

After swimming away from the person who pulled me up, I blink and spit water out as I swim to the edge, then I pull myself out of the pool and hang my head low. I crawl on my hands and knees, coughing and gasping for air. My lungs and chest are still burning, and when I gather the strength, I finally look up, fully expecting to see Teddy beside me… but it isn’t him.

It’s Micah.

His soaking wet hair sticks to his forehead, and his blue suit clings to his arms. Somehow, the water has made his blue-gray eyes shine brighter than I remember. Or it could be that this is the closest he’s ever been to me. His hand gently rests on my bare back and suddenly, I’m fully aware of it. It’s as if a million sirens are going off as a million arrows are pointed to his hand on my back.

His hand. On my back.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

But I can’t speak. The words get caught on a cough. I simply nod, squeezing my eyes shut as I keep looking at the ground.

“Okay,” he says. When I don’t say anything, the tone in his voice changes. “Then, what the hell were you thinking, Addy?”

I look up sharply. Anger flashes across his too gorgeous face. Despite my entire body burning, my heart still beats erratically at the sight of him.

He’s too old for you, Adeline. Obviously. You can’t like him.

“What?” I rasp. My throat burns. “What do you mean?”

His hand falls away from my back, and he moves to sit beside me. Micah bends his legs and rests his elbows on his knees, hanging his head low as the muscles on his back move dramatically. He’s still working to catch a breath of his own.

“I heard you scream, and when I turned around you slipped into the pool. I was expecting you to come back to the surface.When you didn’t, I went in after you. I thought you were drowning.” He wipes his hand across his forehead, pushing his wet hair back, then turns to look me in the eye. “You know how to swim, Addy. What the fuck?”

I narrow my eyes, anger building inside me. I’ve never heard him talk to me this way.

First, Grant. Now, Micah.

Tears slip from my eyes, but I wonder if they’re even visible, considering I’m already wet. This isn’t how I expected my first conversation of the summer with Micah to go. My heart broke for his, and when I look into his eyes, I search for the sadness—sadness and loss for losing his father—hoping I’ll catch a glimpse of what it looks like to love your father enough to be fractured by their loss.

Instead, all I see is fury and anger in his eyes, and my heart breaks again.

“You’re a jerk.” My chin wobbles as tears flow down my wet cheeks.

“Right.” He scoffs, pushing his soaking wet hair off his forehead. “I jump in the pool to save you, yet I’m the jerk.”

“You are.” I stand, curling my hands into tight fists.

Micah stands, too, placing his hands on his hips.

I look down at my bikini, making sure it’s still intact. Thankfully, it didn’t come loose or shift when Grant pushed me in, so I tuck my wet hair behind my ear and cross my arms over my chest, every emotion flooding to the surface. Somehow, I bite back the tears stinging my eyes.

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