The hairs on my arms rise as my stomach falls, crashing painfully into the black waves.
Olli.
Olli’s under the water.
With shaking legs, I push myself into a blind run, caution overwritten by panic. “H-hey—” I rasp, the sound barely making it out of my throat.
“Hey!” I yell again. My voice echoes strangely, but I don’t have time to worry about it.
Cold water splashes up my calves. The two silhouettes are towering before me. One turns, but too late.
I grab hold of his middle and duck my head low, throwing my entire weight to the side. Lake Champlain wraps around us, tempting me to sink lower. Before my opponent can grab me, I push him into the deeper water. Stumbling backward into the shallows, I swipe my hair out of my face, half expecting to get jumped by the second guy.
But there’s more than one silhouette when I blink the water from my eyes.
Her blonde hair paints a light arch as Sasha shifts all her weight into a punch. Bone crunches sickeningly. Her target falls over, splashing water in all directions.
Distantly, the wish to know how to punch like her pops into my head.
The guy I tackled has made it back to his feet, wiping lake water from his eyes. His glare finds me, and I try to build myself up tall, squaring my shoulders.
“Who—”
“Fuck off!” I yell, hoping it’ll be enough to keep him away.
“Yeah! Fuck right off!”
I nearly stagger with relief as I register Vince’s voice behind me. I don’t dare turn my head, watching the guy in front of me warily. Hopefully, Sasha doesn’t need help with the other one. I don’t even know what I’m going to do if this one decides to lunge for me. It sounded like Vince was close but not close enough.
“Yeah, you better fucking run!” Sasha shouts behind me.
A flash punctuates her words, cutting brightly through the night.
“I’ve got you on video!” another voice calls out from the safety of the shore, strangely familiar, but I can’t put my finger on where I’ve heard it before.
“And you as well.” The light turns, falling on the guy standing up in front of me. His soaked polo shirt has Greek letters stitched on the chest. Despite his dripping hair and bleeding nose, I recognize him. A sore loser both at beach volleyball and beach brawls.
“You should start running too,” Sasha snarls, stalking over. Her shoulder bumps into mine, and together we build a wall between the guy and Olli.
“I—we just taught him a lesson.” The guy backs away, holding up his hands. To cover his eyes from the light or avoid being caught on camera, I don’t know and don’t care. Disgust and anger rush through me like poison, shaking me with the force of my utterloathingfor this douchebag.
“Just leave,” I spit, already turning away from him.
“Are you deaf? Get fucking lost!” Sasha repeats, taking a step forward. It’s much more effective coming from her.
I don’t wait to see him running, instead dropping and fumbling through the water until I find an arm.
“Oh Jesus Christ,” Vince curses sharply. He’s frozen for another moment, then he reaches down to grab Olli’s other arm.
We half-drag, half-carry him to the beach and carefully set him down in the sand.
“What happened?” I blurt out unthinkingly, sinking to my knees. “Are you—” I break off when the blinding light of a phone’s flashlight illuminates Olli’s face.
The worst must have washed off in the lake, but his skin and clothes are crusted with sand and blood. One eye is quickly swelling shut. Fresh blood drips down from his split lip and now crooked nose, soaking the collar of his shirt.
“Shit,” Vince breathes, reaching out to wipe—
Olli gags.
