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“It’s hot and I’m going swimming. Are you losers coming?” She looked at Brett and me, then at Hannah who hovered somewhere behind us shyly. “Come on,” she coaxed, stripping off her clothes down to her bikini.
Without waiting for any of us to respond she ran forward and jumped into the in-ground pool at Brett’s house. The pool was large, but with all the people at the party currently swimming it seemed smaller.
Brett grinned down at me. “You ready, Rachael?”
I smiled nervously. Brett knew I wasn’t a very good swimmer and it always made me nervous getting in the water.
“You won’t let go?” I asked, a slight begging tone to my voice.
“I’ll never let go,” he promised.
I nodded and he took my hand. Together—because the two of us had been inseparable since we were in diapers—we ran forward and jumped into the water.
Beneath its cool depths Brett’s arms wrapped around me and his lips smashed against mine.
For the first time in my life I wasn’t afraid to drown.
Thea sat down, a peculiar look on her face. “What’s wrong?” She asked.
“Nothing,” I sighed, taking the drink she offered me, and shaking off the remnants of the memory.
I took a sip. I wasn’t sure what it was, but it was definitely strong.
“Cade said not to accept a drink from anyone but him unless you get one yourself.”
I raised an eyebrow at her and lifted my drink. “Am I safe accepting this one from you?”
She laughed. “Yes. You’re hot and all, but I prefer guys.”
Laughter bubbled out of me. It felt strange and foreign, but good at the same time.
Thea’s smile was pleased, almost as if she sensed I didn’t laugh often.
I hadn’t wanted to make friends here.
I wanted to lay low, get my degree, and get the hell out of here.
But watching Thea and the other rowdy college students around us, I couldn’t help but wish for more. The real college experience. Not what I had planned to do which was basically shut myself up in my room when I wasn’t in class.
I knew it was stupid, but I felt like if I went on and lived my life that I was betraying the people I lost. Their lives were cut short, so shouldn’t mine be?
My therapist disagreed. Like my parents, he’d spent the last year or so trying to convince me to move on. I couldn’t.
I knew I had disappointed my parents with my inability to let it go. I hated seeing the pain etched on their faces, knowing that I was responsible for putting it there.
I knew they hoped that college would be good for me—that getting away from home and the glares from everyone that knew what I’d done would give me a chance to ‘spread my wings and fly’. My mom’s words, not mine.
Being away did help, but I still couldn’t escape the crushing memories. Not just what happened on that fateful day a year ago, but what happened before. I couldn’t escape the good times or the bad times and it was crippling.
“Do you ever think about the future?” Brett asked as we lay in the tall grass, gazing up at the stars.
I curled my body around his, resting my head against his chest where I could hear the steady thumping of his heart.
“What do you mean? Like, college?” I asked.
“No, about us…” He whispered, his fingers tangling in my hair.
Brett and I had been best friends since we were infants. We grew up in the houses next to each other, and since neither of us had siblings and were the same age we’d always played together. As we grew older that friendship turned into more. I couldn’t imagine my life without Brett in it.
