Page 40 of Catch the Sun

Andy swipes his hands together as if he’s wiping them clean. “Time to cleanse this town of all the waste.”

I’m snarling like a rabid dog, struggling against the two meatheads as I watch Ella break the surface and disappear into the murky lake. She’ll pop back up any second and these bastards will let me go so I can dry her off and take her home. Then I’ll crucify them. Somehow, some way. Don’t know what I plan to do, but it won’t be good. They’ll be fucking sorry they ever laid a hand on her.

“Ella!” I call out as fat fingers bruise my skin.

Everyone is laughing except for me.

Everyone watches the water ripple and bubble in the space where she sank.

Everyone waits.

And waits.

I wait.

The seconds turn into a minute and fear stabs me like a pickax. Heath and Lisbon finally loosen their hold, their laughter fading when Ella doesn’t resurface.

Is she drowning? Can she not swim?

Fuck!

I rip myself free, catching Andy’s wary expression as he stares blankly out at the too-calm water. “I–I didn’t know she couldn’t swim…” he stutters. “I just wanted to… Shit…”

I fly past him and his friends, my sneakers untied and pounding the rickety wooden planks as I race toward the lake. Yanking my shoes off, I inhale a lungful of air. And without a second thought, I lunge forward when I reach the edge and dive in, feet first.

Cool water surrounds me, eating me up. Swallowing me. Kicking my feet, I force my eyes open through the gray murk and search for Ella. The world shimmers above, distorted and dreamlike as a wash of stillness fills me. Everything is muted, quiet, familiar.

I see her then, through the muddy wall of water, her hair floating around her in crimson-brown ribbons. She’s a few feet away, so I swim and I swim, and she comes more into focus the closer I get.

Her eyes are open. Her arms are extended at her sides, lazy and levitating. She’s staring at me, the slight flare of her gaze telling me she’s not drowning. She’s not.

She’s choosing.

I can’t help but stare at her. It feels like an eternal moment frozen in time as I watch her and she watches me, and something raw and painfully tantamount passes in the watery space between us. A common thread.

She looks peaceful. Ethereal.

Done.

My mind races to years past, remembering that I’ve been here before. McKay and I used to hold our breath and stare at each other beneath the lake’s surface, just like this, a battle of wills and strong lungs. A competition of who could hold out the longest.

I always wondered who would give up first. Who would give in. Who would submit to the dregs and sink away forever. We were cowards, though. Just kids. We’d kick our feet when our oxygen verged on depletion, gliding back up to the fresh air and sunlight, and it never really felt like an accomplishment when we’d resurface. In a morbid way, it felt like there was no winner.

We both lost.

I’m snapped out of the reverie when Ella’s eyes roll up, and I realize the moment is not eternal. It’s not eternal, but it will be.Fuck.What am I doing, staring at her when I should be saving her? My instincts snap back on and I paddle forward, my chest aching, lungs stretched and bruised. She’s running out of time, dying right before my eyes. She’s giving in to the quiet moment and I refuse to let that happen.

I reach for her. I grab her by the front of her tangerine top and haul her skyward as my oxygen dwindles and I begin to see stars. She doesn’t fight, doesn’t swim. She’s weightless and drifting. Unconscious, somewhere else. I propel myself up and up as this sad shell of a girl dangles beside me, and I wonder if she’ll hate me for this…if my saving her will feel like a tragic loss.

We breach the surface and I inhale.

Big, deep, greedy breaths.

Ella hangs against me, boneless, lifeless. She’s not breathing. She’s not drinking in the warm autumn air as sustenance like I am.

No, no, no.

Dragging her over the ledge of the dock, I haul myself up and situate her on her back, straightening her legs and tipping her head back.

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