Page 58 of Famous for a Living

I hear his declaration a millisecond before I feel his jump, and the tug on my arm as it leads me to do the same.

Before I know it I’m in the air, hearing faintly Mina’s triumphant cheer just before the splash as my body plunges into the water. And oh, does it plunge.

The glacial water sucks the air right out of my lungs as my toes, waist, chest, and head plunge into the belly of the whale, and for the longest second of my life, time stops. For one infinite moment it’s just me submerged in a sea of silence. The only sensation is the prickles of a hundred thousand needles tapping every inch of my body. And his hand. The grip, the firm, stable grip, of his hand squeezing mine.

I emerge, birthed back into reality, and with it returns sound. Cheers of onlookers waiting their turn. Whoops and hollers from Uncle Terry. And Peggy. And Kevin. And Mina. And Jax.

I inhale loudly with a high-pitched wheeze with my first breath, my lungs aching with the pressure to expand. I cry out, feeling the adrenaline running through my veins, begging my arms and legs to move like the wind.

It’s exhilarating.

Blinking the water from my eyes, I catch Uncle Terry attempting to snap a picture before lowering the camera with a puzzled expression. “Now that’s not right. Mina, how do I get off this . . .”

My legs feel like they’re foreign as they work to kick beneath me, just dead space. A smile erupts on my face as I begin to swim toward the other side. The splashing is loud, overtaking my eardrums. I wheeze with every terrifying, thrilling new breath.

But wait. Where is his hand?

I look down for it, and water splashes my face. I can’t see my legs. I can’t, in fact, see anything but a pool of black beneath me.

Nothing but water between me and the broken-windows houses, crooked trees, decaying barns below.

I inhale sharply, then feel a second later, as if he heard my silent plea, his hand on my hip.

Gentle.

Prodding.

I look to my right. There he is.

“Ready?” he says.

It’s a steadying question, equal to his steady eyes on mine. He isn’t splashing around. No. He’s stoic, incredibly calm, as he waits for my reply. As if the water isn’t freezing his bones as it is mine. As if he’s immune to the icicles forming on his lashes and the air so cold it burns entering our lungs.

All I can think is, He probably could’ve survived the Titanic. He would’ve been that brandy-drunk baker who doggie-paddled for hours before rescue and made it. I look at him closer. Take in his steely, unwavering gaze. The pulsing vein following down his firm neck. Correct myself.

No, he wouldn’t have doggie-paddled waiting for a rescue boat. He would’ve swum the whole four hundred miles to shore.

I feel my panic drifting away.

Feel the confidence return.

I really can do this.

I look at the ladder twenty feet off, bobbing quietly as it waits to be used.

With Zaiah beside me, I know I won’t fail.

“Yeah,” I breathe. My palms cup the water as I begin to move in an amateur breaststroke motion.

He pulls back as I reach the ladder. Waits while I pull myself out and my body shifts from freezing waters below to freezing air above.

Mina dives into the water behind me. Brave. Fearless.

It all happened in sixty seconds, probably less, and yet it felt like a lifetime.

I look up to Zaiah, teeth chattering. “What do we do now?” I say, and realize I’m panting.

A bemused smile passes over his lips as he watches me wrap my arms tightly over my chest, shaking from head to toe. My soaked, oversized T-shirt pulls over my athletic shorts, so long the shorts are hidden. My hair is plastered to my head, no doubt making me look like a soggy Yorkshire terrier.