Silence envelops us and I figure he’s trying to decide how to say no until he speaks up. “I’ll watch you instead.”
“Don’t feel obligated to come. I might be up for a while.”
“Then it’s a good thing I have no plans this weekend. And it’s not an obligation because I want to be there with you.”
My heart patters. “Okay.”
We walk side by side in a comfortable silence. There’s something nice about being with him. There’s no pressure to fill the void, and he doesn’t add mindless conversation for the sake of getting me to talk.
I don’t feel worried, and I’m not overthinking whether my silence is making him uncomfortable. Mom, Bryson, Christian Novak, and many others made comments about my lack of smiles and small talk. One thing they all agreed on was that myresting bitch facemade others wary of wanting to be around me.
Once he grabs his water and we’re outside, Daniel sits on the edge of the pool, sinking his feet on the side that’s shallow. Despite the lights that surround the inside of the pool, I can’t really see his face, but I didn’t miss his hesitation as we stepped out. Or the vigilance in his voice for me to be careful as I set my stuff next to him.
Swimming is second nature to me, but I’m useless to anything outside of it.
I could make a list of all the things I’m shit at, but it would never end. But one thing that has always been on top of said listis people. I never know what to say or how to say what I want to say to them.
I still don’t understand how Vi and Pen still talk to me, but that’s a question for another day.
So why I’m sitting next to Daniel, even though this could end horribly wrong, is beyond me. I know something is wrong. I can feel his tension, and from my periphery I see how he wrings his towel with his fingers. He’s also looking down at the water, and hasn’t said a word.
I want to ask what’s wrong, but what if he tells me, and I don’t know how to respond to that? Most people never tell me what’s wrong with them, but Daniel isn’t most people.
“If you want to help me, you’re going to have to let me help you” is what I settle on after a few minutes.
“Huh?”
“If you’re going to help me with my issue, I might as well help you with yours. And don’t give me that bullshit excuse that you’re too busy and can’t commit because if you are, you might as well not help me at all.”
Was that too abrasive? Shit, I’m already failing.
“My issue?” I hear the humor in his voice.
I sigh with relief. “Not knowing how to swim.”
“You don’t need to waste your time on me, and it’s not necessary. I don’t usually get in the water, so it’s not like I’ll ever…drown.” His voice sounds so dry despite how amused he’s trying to make it sound.
“Then I don’t want your help.”
He slightly turns his body to face me. “Don’t be like that. I promise I’m not worth the time or trouble.”
“I’m not your problem to fix, yet here you are for whatever reason trying to fix something that isn’t fixable.”
He reaches out, covering his large palm over mine. “I’m here because despite what you believe, you’re not a problem andyou’re not broken. I’m not trying to fix you. I just want you to know that I’m here for you. As a friend, as a person, as whatever you want me to be. I’m here for you, Josefine. Whoever or whatever made you believe that is wrong.”
I feel a pang in my chest, the strike so fierce it knocks the air out of me.
“Believe me,” he desperately adds.
I look away from him because he doesn’t see or understand that I’m really a lost cause. In a few weeks, he’ll give up and decide I’m not worth it. I know I’m not.
“You have to let me help you. It doesn’t matter if you get in the water or not. It’s important to know how to swim.”
“I don’t have time to?—”
“But you have time for me?” My own question shocks me because I never thought I’d hear those words coming out of my mouth.
“Yes.” He doesn’t miss a beat.
