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I stuff the cash back into the drawer and pick out the wet T-shirt contest flyer I’d hidden in there, as well, and look at it. Three hundred dollars isn’t enough to make it worth it, but bartending at The Hook or…doing what my sister does and bringing home that kind of money might be.
For a moment, I can’t help entertain the idea. To be able to have cash in my pocket that isn’t already the gone the moment I earn in. To have nice things. To have a car.
But then I think of Cole and Jay and the guys I went to school with coming in and watching me, and I shove the paper back into the drawer, wanting to throw up. Strangers might not be unbearable, but I’m not dancing for the guys I went to high school with.
And bartending there would be almost as bad. The outfits I’d have to wear, the customers I’d be serving…
Leaving the bedroom, I head downstairs and round the bannister, continuing into the kitchen, through the laundry room, and out the back door.
The air hits me, and suddenly, I can breathe again. The fragrant trees and freshly mowed grass fills my nostrils, and aside from the light illuminating the pool underneath the water, it’s completely dark back here.
I walk to the deep end and sit on the edge, submerging my legs in the water halfway up my calves. The cool water covers my skin like a hug, inst
antly easing my heated nerves.
Cole will be back late. By then, we’ll both have calmed down, he’ll climb into bed, I’ll spoon him, and he’ll layer his hands with mine, our signal to each other that everything will be fine.
I need to relax. I’m nineteen, and I have money worries and relationship problems. Who doesn’t at my age? I’m too hard on myself. Pike seems fine with me being here, so I’ll continue to pull my weight, and he won’t have cause for complaint.
And worse comes to worse, my father would never turn me away at the door. Everything will be fine. It might not be right now, but it will be.
I smile a little, almost convinced. Looking down at the blue surface of the water, and the white light illuminating the clean bottom of the pool, I feel a sudden urge to prove it.
I can do it.
Everything will be fine.
And I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and leap, pushing myself off the edge and into the water. Bubbles pour out of my mouth as I release air and sink to the bottom of the pool. My hair floats around me, the water caressing my scalp, and the flannel billows up as I cross my legs and sit on the floor of the pool.
I don’t know when I started doing this. I didn’t grow up with a pool, of course, but maybe it was summer camp when I was twelve or Cam taking me to the public pool as a kid that I realized how scared I could get of the unknown. I like to challenge that part of myself, because it boosts my confidence when I succeed.
Taking my laundry down to the seedy basement at the old apartment by myself. Sleeping in the dark without even the hall light on. Driving home at two o’clock in the morning after a shift and not checking the backseat to make sure I’m alone in the car.
I look around, twisting my head and seeing nothing but water, but my vision only takes me so far and the view fogs into nothing. Anything could come swimming out of the distance and toward me. Anything could be behind me. Anything could come up from the drain or dive in from the surface.
I close my eyes.
If I can do this, Cole and I will be fine. Everything will be good, and I’ll just keep trucking.
My lungs start to ache, but I keep my eyes closed and remain still. Something is staring at me. And there’s something slinking through the water, heading straight for me. I feel it. It’s coming for me.
I know it’s my fear, so I keep my eyes shut, pressing on. I know everything will be fine. It’s my imagination.
I can do it. I can do it. My lungs stretch painfully, and my throat burns, but I squeeze my fists. Just another second. One more second.
But suddenly, the water shakes around me, and I pop my eyes open, knowing that it’s not my imagination this time. I look up and see Pike just as he’s reaching out for me. He grabs me under my arms, and I bat at him, shaking my head.
My lungs are done, though, and I can’t take anymore. Pushing him away through the water, I plant my feet on the bottom of the pool and push off, shooting for the surface.
I break through, coughing with hair plastered to my face. I hear him spit water out next to me.
“What the hell are you doing?” I growl.
“I thought you were drowning! What the hell? What were you doing?”
I cough again, wheezing as I draw in a lungful of air. “Facing my fears. Damn,” I grumble as I swim for the edge.
“Are you okay?”
