Page 10 of The Art of Drowning

“You mean for when you end up in the deep water by accident and your best friend’s brother has to save you from drowning?”

I grinned at him, warmed by the memory and comforted by the fact that he couldn’t see the effect he had on my body.

“Something like that.”

Damien reached out and grabbed the edge of the pool again. He pulled himself to the side and stopped treading water. He folded his arms on the edge of the pool and put his head down on them, closing his eyes. For a moment, he looked so peaceful, so vulnerable. There was a strand of wet hair clinging to his face, and I wanted to brush it away. My eyes tracked a water drop that ran down his back, and I wanted to follow it with the tip of my finger. Or maybe my tongue. I wondered what his skin would taste like all wet from the pool.

Damien moved, tugging himself toward the shallows, and I realized that I’d been staring like a creeper. At least Damien didn’t notice or didn’t call me on it.

“Are you going to teach me to float?” he asked. Now that he could touch the bottom again, he propelled himself around the shallows by pushing off the bottom with his feet.

I followed him to the shallows, suddenly aware that I’d follow him anywhere.

“The trick to floating is to arch your back. Don’t try to keep your head up. Your ears should be in the water, but your face will be out in the air. And you need to spread your arms and legs like a starfish.”

Damien leaned back, and he tried to get on his back, but it was like his foot was glued to the bottom of the pool. After a few attempts, I gave in and swam closer. Standing next to him, I bent my legs. “Try again,” I said. “I’ve got you. I’m right here.”

It still took Damien another couple tries for his body to listen to his brain. He kicked out and I held him up, my hand sliding against his skin under the water. Was it hot in this pool all of the sudden?

“Arch your back,” I told him. “And relax everything else.”

“Easy for you to say.” Damien laughed and his hips sank like a rock. He stood and swiped the water off his face. “Again,” he said with fierce determination. “I think I almost had it.”

Damien did not almost have it. His hips kept sinking. Or he’d have it for a few seconds and then he’d drop like a stone. It was torture. The kind of torture I was going to jerk off to later. Damien, close to me. My hands on him, touching him. Showing him how to hold his body. Secretly dying over how perfect this day felt and how he didn’t feel like Sam’s.

He felt like mine.

The moment that thought crossed my mind, I tried to banish it, but then Damien whispered to me.

“I’m doing it.”

I looked at him. Arms and legs out like a starfish. He floated effortlessly, and I moved away from him, giving him space to enjoy the new skill he’d acquired.

“You sure are,” I confirmed, my voice full of pride.

“I can’t believe it was this easy the whole time.”

Damien laughed, and I hoped he’d have stayed floating on his back, looking at the sky. He was beautiful like that. Carefree. Happy. And I’d helped him achieve that.

Damien might be Sam’s, but from now on, whenever he got in the water and flipped onto his back, he’d think of me. It felt like I won something. Something important. Something money couldn’t buy. Something I couldn’t even name yet.

“It’s easy because you’re a good listener,” I told him.

“It’s easy because I have a good teacher.”

I shook my head. “I’m not a teacher. I’m just a guy who knows stuff.”

Damien snorted at that. “That’s basically what a teacher is.”

Out of nowhere, he sliced his arms through the water and splashed me. I sputtered through a faceful of water and wiped the drops out of my eyes to clear my vision.

“Oh, you’re going to pay for that.” I splashed him back, laughing the whole time. After he finally left, my face hurt from smiling and my whole body ached from the way I’d wanted to keep touching him but hadn’t been able to.

Yearning, it turned out, was a specifically shitty kind of torture. Because it never stopped. Even when the object of my affection was out of sight, he was never out of mind. I’d never crushed on anyone the way I did Damien. And if Sam ever found out, he’d kill me. That should have been enough to get me to stop thinking about him. I should have buried my crush in a box and never opened it or looked at it again.

I couldn’t.

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