Chapter 13
ALEJANDRA
Head Above Water - Avril Lavigne
No entres en pánico, Alejandra. Don’t fucking panic.
She had trained for this. Prepared for it. Years of apnea work in the pool every single morning. Many big waves surf retreats where this was the focus. Carlos timing her, pushing her. Stretching her lung capacity past every previous limit.
She could handle this.
But when the world stopped spinning and she opened her eyes underwater, adrenaline surged like a lightning bolt through her veins. Everything was blue—dark, violent blue—and light filtered down from the surface like unreachable gold.
Her body turned toward the surface, kicking hard.
But something pulled back, pain so sharp that stars started dancing in front of her eyes.
Panic bloomed in her chest. She twisted, heart hammering, and that’s when she saw it. Her left arm was wedged inside the reef. Caught between two jagged pieces of volcanic coral.
Her vision blurred for a moment.
No. No no no no no.
She tried to tug, but the movement made it worse. Sharp pain rocketed up, and with it bubbles. Air. Precious, fucking oxygen leaving her body. She was wasting it. Every tug cost her seconds. Every second cost her life.
The reef was cutting into her skin, she could feel it—the sting of saltwater meeting blood. But worse than the pain was the trapped feeling. Like the ocean had its hand wrapped around her wrist and was pulling her under, dragging her deeper into its crushing grip.
She kicked harder, planted her feet on the sharp reef floor and pushed. Hard.
A scream echoed in her skull, but her mouth never opened.
She yanked, shoulder twisting unnaturally, pain flaring white-hot in her mind like a thousand volts.
Tear it off if you have to. You’re not dying here, Alejandra.
Not like this.
And then something gave.
Her arm slid free.
She didn’t feel it anymore. Not in a good way.
Adrenaline had numbed her to everything except the instinct to go up.
She kicked hard, her chest burning now, lungs caving in on themselves, brain screaming for air.
She knew if she was still in the impact zone, another wave would hit.
And if it pinned her again, it could be the last time.
Swim. Swim. SWIM.
The light above her seemed too far, too far—
And then she broke through the surface, gasping, choking on oxygen like it was fire. Her head spun. The world was too bright. Her vision was dotted with black. Her arm useless. Hanging. Disconnected from her body.
She didn’t know if it was dislocated, broken, torn to shreds, or all three. She just knew it wouldn’t move, and her body was starting to give up. Too much pain. Too much blood loss.
A wave crashed over her again. She went under, came up sputtering.
Stay calm.
She knew this. Knew how to handle wipeouts. But this wasn’t a normal one.
This was bad.
“ALE!” someone shouted.
She turned, barely registering the sound. A jet ski cut through the swell toward her, spraying whitewater as it approached.
Carlos.
His strong arms wrapped around her armpits and hauled. That’s when it hit—the pain. Like her nerves had just rebooted all at once. A scream tore from her throat, raw and animal. Her vision blurred again, and tears fell without control.
It wasn’t just pain. It was fear. Exhaustion. Everything she’d held off to survive crashing over her all at once.
“Are you conscious?” Carlos barked, slapping her cheek to keep her alert. His eyes were wide, terrified.
“Barely,” she choked out. “My arm…”
“I see it. We’ll fix it. You’re okay. Stay with me, Ale. Just stay with me.”
But her mind was already slipping.
The pain was too much. The cold too deep. The rush of everything too overwhelming.
She drifted.
Somewhere between the water and the sky, she saw Antonio—Sofia’s father—smiling at her like he used to when they were little, clapping from the beach during their first surf competitions. “Venga, campeona. You’ve got this.”
Then her grandparents' faces beaming. Reaching toward her like they were calling her home.
Am I dying? she thought. No. No. Not yet.
But the darkness kept pulling at the edges.
Blue eyes. A soft smirk. Wavy dark hair tousled from wind and sun. The memory hit like warmth against her freezing skin. Calm. Steady. The way he’d held her. The way he said her name like it mattered. Like she mattered. It brought her back to her body, just enough.
She wasn’t sure if she was dreaming or hallucinating. But the next time her brain registered anything, she was being pulled up the beach. White sand, too hot, people running, shouting, chaos. Ilias. Carlos. Amira. Paramedics.
Then, everything went black.
And maybe, that was for the best.