Yeah. Definitely not going to eat eggs right now. I sneak one more glance over at Eric and blush when I find his eyes fixed on mine. If he was just looking at me, maybe that would be different. But it’s the way he’s looking at me that’s the thing. His gaze is full of a hunger that I’m afraid to want, but still do. It’s dangerous. It could consume us both and I know that I’m going to have be the one that keeps us both from burning. I can do that.
I scrape my half-eaten eggs into one of the compost bins and hand over the dishes to the kitchen staff. I spot a bunch of apples in a basket. That sounds fine to my stomach right now. Sure. I can eat a bigger lunch if I’m hungry.
Reaching out, I grab an apple, only realizing after I’ve grabbed it that it was holding up a bunch of the other apples, and they tumble onto the floor with a rumbling sound. The entire room goes quiet for a moment as people look and my whole face and chest flushes red.
I don’t look at Eric. I can’t look at him. Not now.
The sound resumes and the campers and counselors go back to their breakfast, too sleepy or too engrossed in their food to laugh or make a big deal out of it.
I pile the apples back into the basket as quickly as I can before fleeing the dining hall. Escape is the only option. On the way out I grab one of the quick pre-made protein shakes from the counselor’s fridge. Even the apple doesn’t sound appetizing right now.
God, I need to be in the water.
It’s barely been an hour since we finished yoga and the temperature is already spiking. I have enough time, if I hurry. It takes me only a few minutes to throw on my bathing suit and camp clothes over it before heading back out. That’s one of the nice things about swimming in the lake—you don’t have to shower chlorinated water out of your hair.
The bathing suit I’m wearing isn’t one that I would put on if I were going to the beach with my friends. It’s a little more modest. But I still feel good in it. I dump my clothes in a pile on the dock before diving into the calm water.
I remember when I first came to Red Rock Camp, I was terrified of swimming in the lake. The dark water freaked me out and I couldn’t stop thinking about all of the things that could be swimming beneath the surface. But over time I came around. Eric is one of the people that helped me get over that fear, and now I don’t even hesitate when I dive in headfirst.
The water is still cold enough to steal my breath, holding on to the barely-there chill of the morning, and a perfect antidote to the rising heat. And it gives me something to focus on besides Eric’s perfect face and body. The feeling of his muscles on my hands, or the brush of his breath when our faces were close together.
Being that close…it makes me remember more and more, and I’m only human. The closer I get to him, the harder it is to push away those memories. But I have to. It’s the only way.
I push myself harder toward the center of the lake. There should be time for me to make it to the island in the center of the lake and back to the dock a couple of times before I have to get to archery.
Shoving everything out of my mind, I focus on the feel of the water on my skin. On the sound of my heartbeat in my ears. On the rhythm of my breath. On pushing harder and faster.
My muscles burn and it feels good. I touch the shore of the island and flip back, still increasing my speed. When camp is over, I need to swim more at home. I’ve forgotten how good it feels to be like this—free. There are few things in the world that make me feel as powerful as slicing through the water. It seems like there’s nothing in the world that can stop me, and that all the problems in the world fall away.
I reach the dock and turn back. One more circuit. I can make it. I haven’t been in the water this long or forced myself this hard in a while, but it’s okay. I don’t care if I’m sore tomorrow. I’ll have the yoga to stretch it out. Though now that I’ve seen Eric stretching, doing the flow better than he gave himself credit for, all I’m going to be thinking about is him while I do it.
No.
I shove through the water and force myself back toward the dock. No thinking about him. This time is for me. There’s a little pain in my leg and side now, and I may have pushed too hard for the first day. But it’s fine.
Until it’s not fine.
A muscle in my ribs seizes and pulls up spreading pain across my stomach and down into my leg. It’s a cramp. Raising my head, I look at the dock, and I’m too far away for this to be easy. Fuck.
I slow down, trying to use the good side of my body, but the pain flares into full blow agony and my limbs don’t seem to be responding the way I need them to. Is this really happening? Is this how fast drowning accidents happen?
I’m stronger than this. But fuck it hurts. And I’m farther away than I thought. I’m imagining the headline that announces a counsellor’s drowning death at Red Rock Summer Camp with more calm than I thought I would. When faced with death I thought I might freak out a little.
But I can’t focus on anything but swimming. I push with the one arm and the one leg that can function properly. How did this happen? Why am I cramping? The whole thing about eating before swimming is a myth. This shouldn’t have happened. Maybe I pushed myself too hard?
Come on, Persephone. You can do this.
I falter for a second, my head momentarily slips below the water, and that’s when the panic hits. No. Panic isn’t going to help right now. But I can’t stop the way my heart rate skyrockets and the way I gasp for breath.
Do I scream?
I hear something in the water and all those fears I overcame come rushing back in. There’s something in the water and it’s going to take me down with it. No. Not like this.
A body slams into mine, and an arm around my chest and then a voice. “I’ve got you.”
I would know that voice anywhere, and my body relaxes at the same time that my mind panics more. Eric’s arm is around me, and he’s swimming me to shore. I can’t seem to get a handle on the mixture of relief and terror that I have going on right now, but I’m not going to die, and right now that’s a good start.
Though now the embarrassment might kill me.
He slices through the water with me against his chest, and I can feel that he’s still in his clothes. His jeans brush against my legs as he kicks. And then he’s depositing us both on the sand of the shore, our feet still in the shallow water.
Eric is breathing hard and so am I, and I let my body release, trying to recover from the cramp. His arm is slung across my stomach where he collapsed with us, and I should move it. But God, I don’t want to. I like the feeling of breathing up into that weight.
“What happened?” he rasps, voice closer than I expected it to be.
I manage to gasp out. “Cramp. I have no idea why.”
“Fuck, Seph.”
My heart grates at that name. At the familiarity it claims after so long. Anger wells up in my chest, and I know that he just saved my life but I’m suddenly livid and I can’t be here. Everything still hurts, but I can move. Sitting up, I shove his arm off me and try to stand. I don’t make it on the first try. “Thank you for jumping in after me.”
“I’d always jump in after you. You know that.” He laughs then. “Guess tackling you in the water does less damage than on land.”
I don’t answer, finally making it to my feet. I push away relieving the memory I went through last night. It’s already too clear in my mind. Suddenly I’m very aware of the fact that I’m soaking wet in a bathing suit in front of him, even if the suit is more modest than what I’d normally wear.