The water’s surface looks even larger from down here.Matthew’s fingers tighten around mine, pulling my focus.His green eyes fix on me.There’s a silent question of concern in their depths.
“I’m fine,” I lie.The words catch in my throat.
I’m anything but.
My flimsy shield breaks.Tears well up.Embarrassed, I turn back to the water.
“You’re not,” he whispers.
I shake my head, unable to meet his gaze.“Sorry—” My apology is choked by a sob.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” he reassures me.“Well, except for puking on my grass.”
A surprised laugh escapes me.I dab at my eyes with the oversized sleeve.
He nudges me playfully.
“That and using your sweater to wipe my face,” I add, managing a watery smile.
“Please be my guest.Might as well use this sleeve too.”He chuckles, dropping my hand back to my lap.
Giggling, I swivel and cross my legs, facing him.“We match,” I point out, glancing at our identical sweatshirts.
“You wear it better,” he compliments, pushing up his sleeves.
“Ha!Yeah, right.Two of me can fit in this.”I stretch out my arms.
“Still,” he insists between bouts of laughter.“The color brings out your eyes.”
I smile, propping my elbows on my knees, chin in my hands.I trace the lines of his face.He watches me, eyes filled with gentle admiration.I let myself bask in it.
“But in all seriousness, sorry for…” I inhale sharply, gesturing toward the house.“For what happened upstairs.I’m not like—” A painful sigh escapes and I bury my face in my hands.
“Hey…” Matthew murmurs, his hand resting gently on my hair.
I lift my head slightly.My trembling lips are still hidden.
He lowers his hand and wipes away my stray tears with the pad of his thumb.“Don’t,” he whispers, his voice rough with empathy.
“I’m a mess,” I mumble.
He shakes his head slowly.“You’re human.”
I shrug, unable to express the turbulence inside.
“Do you trust me?”he asks suddenly.
I straighten, frowning.“You’re not going to push me in the pool, are you?”
He throws his head back and laughs.“No, no.I promise.”He rolls his sweatpants up to his knees and swings his legs over the edge.“This does the trick for me sometimes,” he says, dipping his feet in the water and swishing them back and forth.“Cools the fire, so to speak.”
I mimic him.“It’s cold!”I cry out.
“Come on, it’s refreshing,” he counters, grinning.
“Right… refreshing,” I scoff, plunging both feet in.
The cold becomes surprisingly soothing, distracting from the chaos in my mind.I glide my feet through the water, watching ripples spread.
