Page 8 of The Art of Drowning

I tried to answer but ended up coughing instead, which prompted Callum to rub my back. Which made my stupid cock, who had no idea that he almost died, stir in my swim trunks.

I nodded through a coughing fit, and Callum stayed by my side the whole time as I clung to the pool’s edge trying to compose myself. As more oxygen entered my lungs and I realized what a fucking ass I must have looked like, humiliation crawled up my spine and flooded me with the urge to run and hide.

“One time, when Sam and I were like ten, we were at the pool downtown. Well, Sam went off the diving board and did this really neat looking dive, and I wanted to try it.”

Callum kept rubbing my back, and it was exquisite torture. I basked in his attention even though I shouldn’t.

“Sam is a showoff,” I said, not feeling bad for shit-talking Sam because it wasn’t anything I hadn’t said to his face a million times.

Callum laughed. “So I get up there, and I get ready to try. The diving board is one of those springboard ones, and I give it a bit of a bounce. Then a harder one. And then I go for a really big one, wanting to launch myself really high, right? Then I slip and I crack my head on the board in front of everyone. I didn’t break skin, by some miracle, but I did give myself a massive goosebump. The lifeguard had to fish me out of the pool.”

“I bet you never went back.”

“Actually, I begged for swimming lessons.”

I shook my head. That tracked. Callum never met a challenge he wouldn’t take.

“I could teach you, if you wanted.”

I turned to face him and tried to see if he was serious or not. “I know how to swim,” I lied, defensively. It was a stupid, obvious falsehood, but Callum never acknowledged it. He simply offered again.

“I could teach you, and no one has to know. Not even Sam.” He winced when he said it. “Not that you can’t tell him, just that I won’t if you don’t want me to.”

“I mean, I’m here all the time anyway. If I happen to be here and you happen to be here, and you happen to give me some pointers, I don’t see why that would be a bad thing.”

Callum laughed. “Even Sam couldn’t get pissy at that logic.”

“I’m sorry he’s not nicer to you,” I said, feeling guilty for all the times I said nothing when Sam iced him out.

“It’s fine. Sam’s not that bad.”

He sort of was, but admitting that out loud felt like a step too far. It crossed the line from recognizing your best friend had faults into genuine betrayal. And as much as I liked Callum, I didn’t want to betray Sam.

“At least let me show you some basic stuff so you can tread water and swim short distances. Okay?” Callum looked at me, concern and determination pooled in his gaze.

“Okay,” I said, agreeing to his plan. “You can teach me to swim.”

“Good.”

“But not today. I think now I need to get out of this pool.”

He got out first and if my stomach swooped when he reached down and helped me climb out, no one had to know.

FIVE

callum

THEN

We never brought it up around Sam. Damien’s swimming lessons were our little secret. Sam and I used to be closer, but slowly, over time, he pulled away. He’d always had his own friend group, so it wasn’t entirely surprising when he stopped wanting to do things together. But it still stung a bit. He was by far the more outgoing one of us. The one who treated home like a mandatory inconvenience.

Sam had a definite do-not-touch policy in place regarding anything of his. He was weirdly territorial. I’d even tried to bring it up to Mom and Dad once, but they just exchanged a look, shrugged, and said Sam was Sam, and it was probably best if I just left it alone.

I was fairly certain that his do-not-touch policy would extend to his best friend, who would come over and jump in the pool and let me teach him how to swim. It wasn’t that Damien’s family couldn’t afford lessons, but we both knew his parents were never home. Damien pretty much raised himself. He fed and clothed himself, and he got himself to school and cared about his own grades.

And when report cards came out, my mom was there with her hand out, asking to see his. When he got an A, she pinned it on the fridge next to Sam’s. Damien was family, she said. I hadn’t paid much attention to that then, but any feelings I had for Damien now were definitely not familial.

After the near-drowning incident, it took him another three days to make his way back over without Sam around. Sam was still working at the landscape company, putting all his money away for some secret reason. If Damien knew, he wasn’t saying.