“Oh my God!” Macey’s head appeared over the edge of the railing, her eyes wide and panicked. “Are you okay?”
The cold had fully seeped into my bones now, making everymovement stiff and awkward. Adrenaline kept me from feeling too miserable. I spat out a mouthful of salt water. Gross.
“Yeah, I like falling overboard for fun!” A shiver coursed through my body.
Macey’s hands gripped the railing as she leaned her chest over to get a closer look. Not that there was much to see—just me and the water. A match made in heaven, really. “What do I do?”
“Gee, I don’t know, Macey.” The boat was getting ahead of me now, so I wasn’t sure if she heard me scream, “Get help!”
A panic-induced laugh escaped her, one that rang through the air. It warmed my chest for a moment before the water cooled it again.
I hoped no one was recording this.
Or, maybe if someone was, I could use this as an excuse to sign off social media for the three months that I’d be road-tripping with my sister. Write some sob story post about how embarrassed I was and that I would be off the grid for the foreseeable future, learning how to stand properly on boats.
All of this depended on me getting safely out of this water, of course.
I heard some commotion ahead from the catamaran before it stopped in the water. A few cries were made, and I started swimming again toward the boat. This was good. It gave me something to do to warm myself up.
Plus, the added bonus: my ankle had gone totally numb.
A neon orange rescue boat emerged from the side of the catamaran, and I could have cried tears of joy. Two crew members were holding lanterns and flashlights, swinging the beams through the ocean.
“Over here!” I yelled.
Yellow light spilled across my face, forcing me to blink against its harsh brightness. My muscles screamed as I swamtoward the rowboat, each stroke more desperate than the last. As I neared, a hand reached down, and I gripped it tightly. The crew member pulled me in with surprising strength, his voice gruff but concerned.
“You all right, son?”
“Never been better,” I replied, my teeth chattering so violently I could barely form the words.
The wind hit me like a slap as we rowed toward the catamaran, biting into my damp skin. Goose bumps erupted across my arms, and my hair stood on end as though it too was reacting to the cold.
The crew member, seemingly unfazed by my shivering state, gave me a sideways glance. “Good thing we got to you before the sharks did.”
I froze, my heart skipping a beat. “What?” I scooted away from the edge of the boat, my mind racing. “There are sharks in these waters?”
The man quickly backtracked, sensing the panic building in my chest. “No, no… Of course not.” His eyes flicked to the other crew member, who was trying—and failing—not to laugh. “Just messing with you.”
I wasn’t sure if he was lying, but I was too cold and exhausted to care. I chose to believe him, letting the false sense of relief wash over me.
A ladder appeared on the side of the boat like a beacon. I scrambled up the rungs, my legs weak, and nearly collapsed when I reached the deck.
Everyone greeted me. Seriously. Any fleeting hope that me falling overboard and returning could be brushed under the rug immediately fizzled. A small group formed around me, with people asking questions.
“What happened?”
“Are you okay?”
“Why did you jump?”
“Eliza, you can’t just ask people why they jumped!”
My eyes looked for one person.
There, pushing through the crowd, was Macey. Her hair, which had been weaved flawlessly into a braid before, had come undone. A few strands were stuck to her forehead, the others cascading down her shoulders. A flush of pink coated her cheeks.
And when she saw me, wet and shivering and pathetic, she burst out laughing.
