Page 51 of The Love Haters

“That sounds right. There are some graduating class photos withonly instructors.No students at all.”

“So what’s that about?”

I braced for a list of techniques.

But instead, Hutch lifted his handsome, symmetrical, film-worthy face, and I could see in his eyes that now, at last, he’d finally forgotten the camera.

At last, he was just talking to me.

Then he said, in a voice that suddenly felt as real and human as I’d heard all day, “It’s about being there for people on the worst day of their lives.”

I felt the truth of that like a twinge in my chest.

“AST school is tough,” Hutch went on. “It’s competitive. It’s dangerous. It’s grueling. It pushes you beyond your limits and then some. They make it that way on purpose. They force you to find out for yourself just exactly how much you can take… and then go beyond it. Because when you go out on a search-and-rescue mission, and when you deploy into the ocean—not goingis not an option. And then it’s just you all alone out there. You, and your stamina, and your determination—in an environment that wants to kill you. It’s you againsteverything, and you have to win. Because you are the last thing standing between your victim and the sea.”

Hutch looked down for a second, like those words were not just words to him, and then he looked back up. “So that’s all there is. Swimmer school taught us about one thing, and one thing only. Survival.”

Eight

BEANIE CALLED THEnext morning and woke me five minutes before my alarm.

“It’s time to do another one,” she said, like she would accept no protests.

“Another onewhat?”

“I gave you a grace period because you’ve been adjusting, but now I’m cracking down. We really are doing this.”

“What are we doing, again?”

“Making your beauty list.”

“Oh, god,” I said, turning over. “You sound like you’ve trademarked it.”

“It was your idea.”

“Was it?”

“Yes. As usual, you’re your own worst enemy.”

“Can I get an extension?”

“No. Just pick something.”

“I’m still asleep!”

“That’s clearly false.”

“Maybe I’m dreaming.”

“Quit stalling.”

“Fine,” I said, rolling up into a sitting position and scanning my body to just pick something at random.

“And don’t just pick something at random,” Beanie warned.

“I wasn’t!”

“You have tomean it.”

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