Chapter 19
Nox is waiting in the pool when I get there, his cheeks flushed from his morning warm-up, his hair in disarray post-swim cap, his eyes aflame with everything he’s trying not to say.
I slide out of my sweats to buy time, heart thumping in my chest. He usually looks away to give me privacy, but not today.
Today, his gaze travels like a touch, following the path of my pants as they hit the floor, then back up, trailing the hem of my sweatshirt as it lifts over my head.
Tingles scatter down my neck as I swirl my hair into a bun.
He’s not even trying to hide his scrutiny.
It’s as though he’s afraid I might disappear if he blinks.
Vulnerability twists my insides.
My stomach clenches.
I eye the steps, but I know I can’t get in the water, not yet.
I feel exposed enough as is. I need to tell this story on dry land.
So I make my way to the edge and sit down, grounded against the cold tiles as my feet make the plunge.
He swims closer with a gentle breaststroke, keeping his head dry and his focus sharp as he cuts skillfully through the water.
When he gets within reach, he stops just shy of touching me and stands, bringing himself up to eye level.
Water slides down his broad chest, catching the sun streaming in through the windows.
His muscles ripple with each tiny movement.
Any other girl in the world would trade places with me in a heartbeat to witness the show.
All I want to do is hide.
I turn my face to the side, searching for any reason to delay. The empty lifeguard stand snags my attention. “Where’s Justin?”
He’s usually on duty during our sessions, another member of the swim team, with blond hair and purposefully aloof brown eyes that constantly slide right around Nox and me, never looking too close.
“I told him not to come,” Nox says. “Coach closed the pool for the morning.”
“He can do that?”
“I figured you wouldn’t want an audience.”
I don’t.
The sympathy in his tone draws me back to him, a fish on a hook.
“I know you’re afraid, Clara,” he says, his deep voice reverberating through me like a guiding light, chasing away the darkness. “But whatever it is you’re going to say, nothing will ever make me look at you differently.”
“You don’t know that,” I whisper, my voice hoarse.
“Yes,” he says with complete conviction as he slides his hands behind my knees, gripping tight, so I’m no longer grounded to the tiles, but to him. “I do.”
“Nox.” I sigh and close my eyes. My head dips, words failing me.
But he doesn’t push, doesn’t press. He keeps holding me, rubbing his thumbs in slow circles over my thighs, a comforting presence as he gives me the space I need.
My hand finds his shoulder, all hot skin and hard muscle.
I hold on, drawing on his strength, his conviction, since I can’t find my own.
Memories rush around me in a whirlwind. I use him as my anchor in the storm.
There’s no perfect place to begin, so I simply start with the first coherent sentence that comes to mind.
“It was my seventeenth birthday,” I murmur, tumbling through time, no longer in the pool but rather in my bedroom back home, before it was sparse white walls and chipping paint, back when it oozed with life.
“I didn’t want to do anything crazy, just go to the movies.
But Mabel had just started hooking up with our class president and he was having a party that night.
She really wanted to go. She kept making these little comments under her breath about being stuck on house arrest, like being trapped with me on my birthday was a punishment.
I didn’t want to be a drag, so I said we could go.
I just figured it would be the same as every other party we went to—Mabel would be the fun drunk and I would make sure she made it home safe.
Those were our roles. That’s what we always did.
But when we got there, she drew everyone’s attention and made them sing ‘Happy Birthday,’ then poured me a shot she knew I wouldn’t want.
But everyone was staring. Everyone was waiting.
Her eyes were screaming at me, Just have fun for once.
And I gave in. I took one shot, then another.
She promised me she wouldn’t drink. On some level, I knew better than to believe her.
But I’d felt us tearing apart all summer, all year, like this horrible, slow-motion fissure I couldn’t stop from spreading no matter how hard I tried to fuse us back together.
And, god, it sounds so stupid now, but I thought if I gave in just once, if I did what she wanted for a night, maybe she’d remember how much fun we used to have, maybe she’d still want to be my best friend.
I wasn’t prepared to lose her. I just wanted to hold on in any way I could.
So I drank everything she put in my hands.
I let her drag me onto the coffee table to dance.
I laughed with her, pretending I couldn’t tell that she was laughing at me. ”
I pull in a wobbly breath, feeling my voice hitch. Nox keeps gently rubbing my quads, the circling pressure of his thumbs the only thing keeping me tied to the real world.
“I don’t remember everything that happened.
The night is scattered into these little vignettes.
A drink sloshing. Music playing. Fingers on my hips.
Giggles. Someone holding me. A door closing.
I came back to myself in an upstairs bedroom when some guy on the soccer team tried to slide his hand down my pants.
I shoved him off and he let me go, but it was like a switch flipped.
All the lightness and freedom and looseness gained a dark edge, a scary one.
The room was spinning. I couldn’t find the stairs.
I couldn’t catch my bearings. I started yelling for Mabel.
I was so afraid. I couldn’t shake it. She came charging out of a different room with a sneer, shouting, What the fuck is wrong with you?
Like I was crazy. Like I’d lost my mind.
I think I was crying to go home. It’s all a blur.
The next thing I knew, we were in the car.
It was raining. There was this terrible storm.
I think Mabel knew I was scared. I think she wanted to punish me.
She got this reckless look in her eyes and she told me to take the wheel.
Then she unbuckled her seat belt, rolled down the window, and hung out of the car with a wild scream.
My pulse was racing so fast, from the alcohol and the adrenaline.
I thought I might have a heart attack. I can still see my knuckles, white against the leather.
Then she slid back into her seat, soaking wet with this awful smile, and she told me it was my turn.
I knew it was a test, the final straw on our friendship.
If I didn’t listen, we were done. And I wish I’d been strong enough to let her go, to be my own person, to stand up for myself, but I wasn’t.
I did what she wanted. I climbed half out the window.
Rain pelted my cheeks. Wind whipped my hair.
For a second, the fear disappeared. I remember laughing, thinking Mabel was right, this was fun, why was I so worried? ”
I pause, reliving it all in my head.
That moment of weightlessness, then bam! Crunching metal. Screeching brakes. A burst of pain. And water, so much water. I swam and swam and swam, going nowhere as the darkness closed in, broken only by brilliant flashing pain.
Sucking in a breath, I recoil, coming back to life, back to the present.
I find Nox’s eyes and wait for them to dim, expecting disapproval or scorn.
But they’re steady, unyielding, dark green with flecks of gold, holding a warmth that maybe’s always been there, but I’ve never had the courage to acknowledge until now.
“We hit a puddle near the end of a causeway and hydroplaned into the guardrail. I was thrown backward from the car when it spun and I landed in the reservoir. Doctors say it’s the only thing that saved my life.
Mabel wasn’t so lucky. The car flipped and slammed into a tree, killing her on impact.
Someone saw the crash and called the police.
I think it was one of my classmates who maybe didn’t want to get in trouble.
No one’s ever come forward. But when the police got there, I was lying on the shore like someone dragged me there.
They rushed me to the hospital. I don’t remember any of it.
I just remember drowning, and then waking up in a bed, every inch of my body in pain, the world blurry and unrecognizable except for my mother’s voice whispering that it was all going to be okay.
It took months of rest and physical therapy for my body to recover, and I’m still working on everything else, as you know.
I haven’t even told my therapist the full story.
Just the police when I was finally awake enough to fill in their blanks, and my parents, and Mabel’s parents, because they deserved to know the truth.
Their daughter died because I was too weak to tell her no. ”
His grip tightens. His eyes go wide. “You can’t honestly believe that.”
“It’s true.” I shrug, the gesture so incredibly banal compared to the maelstrom inside, the pressure squeezing my heart so ruthlessly it might burst. “I let her drag me to that party. I let her feed me drinks, even after I saw her sneak a few herself. I practically begged her to take me home. If she’d just gone without me, she probably would’ve slept it off with her boyfriend.
She would have been in trouble, sure. But she’d be alive. ”
“Clara, that’s—”
“You didn’t see the way they looked at me,” I cut him off. “The way my mom still looks at me. They trusted me to be the responsible one. Now all I see are questions in their eyes.”