The bathing suit I’m wearing isn’t one that I would put on if I were going to the beach with my friends. It’s a little more modest. But I still feel good in it. I dump my clothes in a pile on the dock before diving into the calm water.
I remember when I first came to Red Rock Camp, I was terrified of swimming in the lake. The dark water freaked me out and I couldn’t stop thinking about all of the things that could be swimming beneath the surface. But over time I came around. Eric is one of the people that helped me get over that fear, and now I don’t even hesitate when I dive in headfirst.
The water is still cold enough to steal my breath, holding on to the barely-there chill of the morning, and a perfect antidote to the rising heat. And it gives me something to focus on besides Eric’s perfect face and body. The feeling of his muscles on my hands, or the brush of his breath when our faces were close together.
Being that close…it makes me remember more and more, and I’m only human. The closer I get to him, the harder it is to push away those memories. But I have to. It’s the only way.
I push myself harder toward the center of the lake. There should be time for me to make it to the island in the center of the lake and back to the dock a couple of times before I have to get to archery.
Shoving everything out of my mind, I focus on the feel of the water on my skin. On the sound of my heartbeat in my ears. On the rhythm of my breath. On pushing harder and faster.
My muscles burn and it feels good. I touch the shore of the island and flip back, still increasing my speed. When camp is over, I need to swim more at home. I’ve forgotten how good it feels to be like this—free. There are few things in the world that make me feel as powerful as slicing through the water. It seems like there’s nothing in the world that can stop me, and that all the problems in the world fall away.
I reach the dock and turn back. One more circuit. I can make it. I haven’t been in the water this long or forced myself this hard in a while, but it’s okay. I don’t care if I’m sore tomorrow. I’ll have the yoga to stretch it out. Though now that I’ve seen Eric stretching, doing the flow better than he gave himself credit for, all I’m going to be thinking about is him while I do it.
No.
I shove through the water and force myself back toward the dock. No thinking about him. This time is for me. There’s a little pain in my leg and side now, and I may have pushed too hard for the first day. But it’s fine.
Until it’s not fine.
A muscle in my ribs seizes and pulls up spreading pain across my stomach and down into my leg. It’s a cramp. Raising my head, I look at the dock, and I’m too far away for this to be easy. Fuck.
I slow down, trying to use the good side of my body, but the pain flares into full blow agony and my limbs don’t seem to be responding the way I need them to. Is this really happening? Is this how fast drowning accidents happen?
I’m stronger than this. But fuck it hurts. And I’m farther away than I thought. I’m imagining the headline that announces a counsellor’s drowning death at Red Rock Summer Camp with more calm than I thought I would. When faced with death I thought I might freak out a little.
But I can’t focus on anything but swimming. I push with the one arm and the one leg that can function properly. How did this happen? Why am I cramping? The whole thing about eating before swimming is a myth. This shouldn’t have happened. Maybe I pushed myself too hard?
Come on, Persephone. You can do this.
I falter for a second, my head momentarily slips below the water, and that’s when the panic hits. No. Panic isn’t going to help right now. But I can’t stop the way my heart rate skyrockets and the way I gasp for breath.
Do I scream?
I hear something in the water and all those fears I overcame come rushing back in. There’s something in the water and it’s going to take me down with it. No. Not like this.
A body slams into mine, and an arm around my chest and then a voice. “I’ve got you.”
I would know that voice anywhere, and my body relaxes at the same time that my mind panics more. Eric’s arm is around me, and he’s swimming me to shore. I can’t seem to get a handle on the mixture of relief and terror that I have going on right now, but I’m not going to die, and right now that’s a good start.