Sarcasm festers in her words, and I can tell this is a touchy subject for her. I don’t know what else to say. I have so many questions. But there’s also something about her that scares the hell out of me, and I’m not trying to press on the bruise of her relationship with her father.
“Come on, new girl,” Piper chirps before I can come up with a response. She turns away and strides to the end of the deck. “Let’s go swimming.”
Chapter 13
“I’m not wearing a bathing suit,” I protest, even as I follow her.
I don’t mention that I didn’t evenbringa bathing suit—it’s on the list of things the chief stew Mika is supposed to get for me. Books are on that list too; a bunch of new releases. Viv said nothing about me reviewingA Song of Scales and Salt, and for that, I was grateful.
But for right now, I am both book-less and bikini-less.
Piper doesn’t seem to care. “It’s only us. Go naked.”
She’s not looking at me; she’s busy heading to the yacht’s lifelines, wires that are permanently rigged fore and aft on either side of the deck. I’m glad Piper is not watching the flood of red rushing to my cheeks at the thought of being naked around this girl.
“Uh, no thank you.”
“Fine,” Piper huffs, like I’m being unreasonable. “Keep your underwear on, then. Who cares? Come on.”
“Hey, where are you going?” I ask as she strides to the edge of the deck. “Isn’t there a swim platform or something?”
“Sweetie, we’re on a fucking yacht. You don’t climb off and gently lower yourself into the water. You jump.”
She places a toe on the bottom line of stainless-steel cable that encircles the main deck, stepping up, swinging her legs over. Piper twists so that she’s dangling over the water, arms pulled back behind her, gripping the wire railing. With one hand, she removes her sunglasses and tosses them over her shoulder. They clatter to the deck at my feet.
Gucci. She threw Gucci sunglasses like they were nothing.
“Are you sure that’s safe—”
Before I can finish my sentence, Piper lets go, and I run over to the edge ofEmpressin time to watch her flip spectacularly in midair, diving into the ocean with a littleplonk.
“Come on, newbie,” Piper yells up at me when she resurfaces, golden hair slicked against her skull. She floats on her back, moving effortlessly through the water as if it was a second skin. “Show me what you’re made of.”
I can’t help glancing at the caissons, a shiver going through my bones. But there’s nothing there. With the sun out and the waves calm, the water is crystalline and shimmering. If anything was floating under the surface, I would see it.
My clothes slip off. I toss them on a deck chair, wondering if any of the other girls are watching from inside, wondering whatthey think of my boy shorts and bralette, my pasty white skin, my decidedly un-muscled stomach.
The thought makes me scramble, desperate to get in the water where I can hide. I mimic Piper, grabbing the cable and swinging a leg over the top of the lifeline. But the hot metal of the cable sears into my palms. I panic, not expecting the pain, and suddenly I’m off balance, releasing my grip. The yacht disappears behind me, and I fall like a rock, so fast I have barely enough time to curl up and hold my breath as I smack into the surface of the ocean.
The water is shockingly cold. Bubbles stream up my nose, my limbs flail as I fight to right myself, and I open my eyes, briefly, water stinging. Everything is white, as if I’m swimming through salt.
This is it. This is how Sage felt at the end.
The thought comes so fast and so violently that I open my mouth, swallowing huge gulps of briny water. My arms are like lead, my heart is hammering against my rib cage. I thrash, but my legs aren’t working. I’m blinded by bubbles, unsure of where I am, a vise taking hold of my lungs.
Like Sage.
My skin is numb, but I can feel a pair of arms wrapping around my waist, yanking, and suddenly my head is breaking the surface.
“Jesus, girl, don’t you know how to swim??”
Great, spasming coughs rack my body as I retch out seawater. The corners of my eyes are stinging fiercely, and hot drops dribble down my cheeks. My lungs expand, shaking off the creature thathad sunk its teeth into them, and I allow another coughing fit to stab through me as feeling starts to return to my body.
Slowly, I become aware of Piper’s warmth; she’s cradling me. She’s floating on her back, treading water, keeping both of us afloat. She must be even stronger than I thought. She rescued me like it was nothing.
When my lungs are clear enough, I rasp, “Thank you. I’m so sorry, I got disoriented.”
“I’ll bring you over to the ladder.”
