Yesterday, I didn't touch the ocean at the beach, only dug my feet into the damp sand, so I didn't know how cold the ocean would be, and fuck, it is so cold that I'm surprised there aren't chunks of ice floating on the surface. At the moment, though, the temperature of the ocean is the least of my problems. Above me, I can't see white swirls of light penetrating the ocean, only darkness and strange shapes. My lungs hurt. I need air, and I'm under the boat. My life jacket helps me break the surface, but there's no space for me to breathe.
I need to get out of here.
Kicking my legs furiously, I swim in the direction I think will take me away from the boat. I'm an okay swimmer — I swim in Easton Grammar's swimming carnival events when no one else volunteers — but I can't concentrate now because I am in the ocean. I can't see because water is rushing into my eyes, and I'm terrified I'm unknowingly close to a shark. And if not a shark, what about a stingray? An octopus? A jellyfish?
There's an explosion of light, and I break the surface of the water, no longer trapped under the boat. In front of me, Liam bobs in his bright-orange life jacket, pushing the boat the right way up.
He's saying something, but his words are garbled, and all I can do is blink the droplets away from my eyelashes. I want to scream for help, but I can't open my mouth.
Liam pushes the sailboat the right way up and pulls himself into it. He sticks his hand out, and I take it, and he pulls me into the boat. I don't know how long the process takes, because I feel as if I'm in a daze the entire time. Once in the boat, I stumble into my seat. In my periphery, Liam walks to his, each footstep squeaking like a wet mop.
"Well, that was colder than expected," Liam says after a moment.
I stare at him, the ringing in my ears fading away. His lips are spread, and there's a strange noise coming from his mouth. He's laughing like a manic.
"Y-you did that on purpose?" It's hard to speak through the chattering of my teeth.
"Yeah, I —" Liam catches sight of me and his laughter fades. He moves closer to me. "Um. Are you okay?"
My laugh is deranged. "Oh yeah, why wouldn't I be? We almost died."
"We didn't almost—" His voice cuts off, and the next thing I feel is the pad of his fingertip swiping under my eye.
"What the hell are you doing?" I ask, shifting away, arms wrapped around me. My clothes are soaked and water drips down the hem of my clothes into the bottom of the sailboat, which is covered in a thin layer of seawater. Brilliant. When I get sick, Liam's footing the bill. Well, Australia has health care, so it won't be that expensive — so he can pay for the medicine. And the therapy sessions.
"Curtis, you're…" Liam is so close to my face, I can see the shades of light brown in his eyes. "You're crying," he finishes.
I slap his hand away — his hand with those long fingers and dark blue nail polish. "What the hell? No, I'm not. Get away from me." I sniff, and the sound is disgusting. I wish I had a tissue.
Liam's brow remains creased, but he leans back. "Look, it's okay, we're safe —"
"Shut up!" I snap. "It's not okay, you almost killed us!"
"I didn't think you'd get so scared," he says. If I didn't know better, I'd say he sounded regretful.
"I wasn't scared," I lie.
He doesn't believe me. Instead, he gestures to his soaked hoodie. "I'd give you this, but it's useless at the moment."
"I wouldn't want it anyway," I say. "Leave me alone."
After a moment, Liam does, walking up to the sails to adjust it so we're following the rest of the group. He shouts out a short conversation to a nearby sailboat who witnessed our capsize and laughs that we're fine. Later, he sits down to take his hoodie off and wring the water out of it. He shakes his head like a dog, spraying water everywhere. I can't stand the sight of him.
"Why would you do that?" I bite out ten minutes later when I've stopped shivering. The sun has emerged from behind the clouds, so there's some nice warmth on our faces, but our clothes are still dripping. "To punish me?"
"Curtis…"
"Because you hate me?" I ask, voice more venomous.
"I thought it would be fun."
"Yeah, I bet it was, seeing me —" I cut myself off, and remember Liam wiping tears from my eye. Fuck him. Fuck me. I might as well throw myself off the boat.
"I don't hate you," he says.
"Yes, you do."
This time, he can't deny it.
