The crashing and splashing sounds from below have my heart racing again. I’d been distracted by Cree’s explanation of all things kinky, but now I’m hyper focused on the water again. I’d like to find a way to take an anxiety pill without being obvious about it. I could excuse myself and head to the restroom, but I really don’t want to be alone. With Cree so close, I don’t think I can reach into my purse and down a pill without sparking questions, and the whole predicament is making me more nervous.
“I kinda wish I had done that, too,” Cree says suddenly.
“Done what?”
“Taken a year off.” He leans back against the wall and draws one knee up to his chest. “I might not have had to take so many credit hours if I’d worked and saved up money. But I got a scholarship, and I was afraid I’d lose it if I didn’t take it right away.”
“Oh, well, that’s good though, right?” I bite my lip.
I’m fully aware that my family is privileged, as the media puts it. Paying for tuition and housing were never an issue for me, even without my plethora of academic scholarships and grants. I always had nice things, a good car, and extra money for whatever I wanted to do. In fact, my parents practically threw it at me. I can only assume it’s to alleviate their own guilt.
“It’s good, yes. I still have to work part time, but my class load isn’t as bad this semester, and the end is in sight. I’d like to get a master’s degree at some point, but I’ll need to hit the work force and build up some reserves before then. I’ve tried to keep my student loans to a minimum, and I’d like my undergrad degree paid for before going back to grad school.”
“What are you studying?” I ask, as if I hadn’t already noticed him in the psychology section.
“Psychology,” he replies. “I’m really into why people do the things they do. Behavior studies, phobia studies—that kind of thing. I’d like to have my own practice someday to help people overcome their irrational fears.”
“Irrational, huh?” I swallow hard and try to focus on anything but the water below me.
“Yes, irrational,” Cree says definitively. “Rational fears help us. A fear of falling keeps us from walking to close to the edge of a cliff. We fear large carnivores because they could eat us. Those fears are protective. A fear of going outside because there is a slim chance you could be run over by a bus isn’t a rational fear.”
“What about being afraid of water?”
“Depends on the situation. I’m guessing you are afraid of water?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“And you said you don’t know how to swim.” Cree tilts his head and looks at me closely. “Your fear of the water is somewhat rational since deep water presents a danger to you. If you can’t swim, being afraid of deep water makes sense. If you are afraid of shallow water to the point of not being able to take a bath, that’s something else.”
“I prefer showers.”
“Because you’re afraid?
“Shallow water makes me think about deep water. I don’t like any of it.” I look away, feeling judged and not wanting to continue this conversation at all.
“Mostly, I’m just curious about how you became afraid of water,” Cree says.
“Why?”
“That’s what interests me,” Cree says with a shrug. “Not trying to pry or anything, I just like knowing what makes people tick. What people find enjoyable and what frightens them is why I got into psychology. So yeah, I’d like to know why you are afraid of water. Ultimately, I’d like to find a way to help you overcome that fear.”
“That seems unlikely.”
“You never know until you try.”
“I live in a landlocked state,” I say. “I don’t go near lakes or rivers. I have enough to deal with already and don’t really need one more thing to work on. Water is easy to avoid.”
“Until it isn’t.” Cree tilts his chin toward the railing and the water below.
I glance over at his backpack and wonder about his friend with PTSD. How would being tied up help with that? It seems like the sort of thing that would make someone more afraid, not less.
Then again, when I grabbed onto Cree’s rope so he could pull me out of the water, I did feel relieved. I don’t think that has anything to do with the rope, though. That was just about getting out of the water. I also wasn’t restricted at all; I only held the rope while he pulled me up. If I were tied up and unable to move, I’m not sur
e how I would feel.
Again, the mental imagery makes my thighs tense up, and a shiver goes up my spine. I look toward the backpack again as I remember the rough texture of the rope in my hands.
“Do you have a question?” Cree asks.