Gazing at the dock a hundred yards away, I drop my hand from shielding my eyes from the sun and make my way toward it. As I step onto the worn and rickety boards that hover over the water, excitement fills me at the thought of running across it and jumping into the water with my clothes on. I can almost feel myself sinking to the bottom of the murky water, letting it cool my sweaty skin and erase all of my bad thoughts while the darkness swallows me up and blocks out the sun. I continue walking along the dock in a daze as I survey the water, imagining my feet sinking into the mud and the sand at the bottom of the lake before pushing off and soaring back up to the surface. I want to disappear under the water and feel alive. I want to kick my feet, pull my arms through the water, and propel my body as fast as I can until I feel the burn in my muscles that makes me feel strong and in control.
I take a deep breath and hold it in my lungs, closing my eyes and lifting my foot off the end of the dock, wanting nothing more than to sink into oblivion. Spreading my arms out from my body, I feel myself falling forward and my heart speeds up in anticipation. Right when I excitedly expect to feel myself splash into the cold water, strong arms wrap around my waist, and I’m yanked backward so quickly that I shout in disappointment and anger.
“Let me go! I want to swim!” I scream, clawing at the arms around me that drag me back away from the edge of the dock.
I’m suddenly lifted up from the wood as I kick and shout in protest, the arms around me holding tighter while I longingly eye the water. The thumping of footsteps against the dock swiftly fades away as I’m moved onto the grass surrounding the lake. I continue to yell and fight against the arms that hold me, my shouts of protest immediately cut off when I’m dropped onto my butt in the grass. Ignoring the pain in my rear end from being tossed to the ground and the embarrassment of being dragged away from the water like a rag doll, I scramble up from the grass and whirl around to confront the person who put a stop to my plans.
My mouth drops open in surprise when I see Nolan standing in front of me with his hands casually resting on his hips. I should be afraid that I’m out here alone with him, far enough from the prison that no one will hear me if I scream, but I’m too angry to worry about my safety.
“What the hell are you doing?” I yell angrily.
“Saving you from drowning. A thank you would be nice,” he deadpans.
Once again, I’m struck by how nice he is to look at. Just like always, he’s dressed in a ratty pair of jeans and an old t-shirt that clings to his body, covered in dirt and sweat from working outside under the blazing sun. His shaggy blonde hair hangs down over one eye, making him look cute and innocent, instead of mean and imposing. I’m so furious at being taken away from the water that I forget about being afraid and mistrustful of him.
“I wasn’t even in the water, so you didn’t save me from anything,” I argue, mirroring his pose by putting my own hands on my hips as I glare at him.
He shakes his head at me, rolling his eyes in annoyance.
“Oh no. You don’t get to be annoyed with me,” I continue. “You had no right to drag me away from the water. Who do you think you are, stopping me from going for a swim in my lake on my family’s property?”
The irritation disappears from his face and his hands drop from his hips as he stares at me. The silence and the way he studies me is unnerving, and it makes me want to run away. Not because I’m afraid of him or what he might do to me, but because I’m scared he’ll figure out all of my secrets, even the ones I can’t even comprehend myself.
“Jesus,” he whispers under his breath. “You really don’t remember anything.”
I hate the way he says these words, like he knows everything about me, and he’s shocked that I know nothing.
“What are you talking about?”
He rubs the back of his neck nervously, finally looking away from me to stare out at the lake behind me.
“I thought it was all an act. I thought you were ashamed of…God, I’m an asshole…”
Nolan trails off, still scanning the lake instead of looking at me. I have no idea what he’s muttering about and I want to yell at him and demand answers, but the quiet confusion in his voice and the look of sadness on his face hold me back. What did he think was an act? What do I have to be ashamed of?
“You honestly don’t remember. It never occurred to me you really didn’t remember until I saw you on the end of that dock. Jesus, you just about took ten years off my life,” he curses, letting out a frustrated breath.
“Will you please tell me what the hell you’re talking about?” I ask in annoyance, fully prepared to stomp my foot if necessary.
His eyes come back to mine, and I’m overwhelmed with the grief I see shining back at me. He takes a step toward me, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off of his body. Not even the warmth from his skin can stop the chill that skitters through me at his next words.
“Ravenna, you don’t know how to swim. You’re deathly afraid of the water, and you never, ever come near this lake.”