Delirium: The Complete Collection: Delirium, Hana, Pandemonium, Annabel, Raven, Requiem

“We’ll see about that.” He cocks his head to the side. “First one to the buoys, then?”


That throws me. The tide doesn’t go out too far in the bay; the buoys are still floating on at least four feet of water. “You want to race into the bay?”

“Scared?” he asks, grinning.

“I’m not scared, I’m just—”

“Good.” He reaches out and brushes my shoulder with two fingers. “Then how about a little less conversation, and a little more—Go!”

He screams out the last word and takes off at full speed. It takes me two whole seconds to launch myself after him, and I’m calling out, “No fair! I wasn’t ready!” and both of us are laughing as we splash through the shallows in our clothes, the little ripples and dips of the ocean floor now exposed by the tide’s retreat. Shells crunch under my feet. I get my toe caught in a tangle of red and purple seaweed and nearly do a face-plant. I push myself off the wet sand with a palm and get my balance again, have almost caught up to Alex, when he ducks down and scoops up a handful of wet sand, whirling around to peg me with it. I shriek and duck out of the way, but a bit of it still catches me on the cheek, dribbling down my neck.

“You are such a cheater!” I manage to gasp, out of breath from running and laughing.

“You can’t cheat if there are no rules,” Alex shoots back over his shoulder.

“No rules, huh?” We’re splashing shin deep now and I start palming water at him, making a splatter pattern over his back and shoulders. He turns around, sweeping his arm across the surface of the water, a glittering arc. I twist to avoid it and end up slipping and falling elbow deep, soaking my shorts and the bottom half of my T-shirt, the sudden cold making me gasp. He’s still slogging forward, his head craned back, his smile dazzling, his laugh rolling off and away so loud I imagine it dipping past Great Diamond Island and over the horizon, reaching all the way to other parts of the world. I scramble up and haul after him. The buoys are bobbing twenty feet ahead of us and the water is at my knees, and then my thighs, and then all the way to my waist, until both of us are half running and half swimming, frantically paddling forward with our arms. I can’t breathe or think or do anything but laugh and splash and focus on the bright red bobbing buoys, focus on winning, winning, I have to win, and when we’re only a few feet away and he’s still in the lead and my shoes are leaden and filled with water, my clothes dragging me down like my pockets have been weighted with stones, without thinking I leap forward and tackle him, wrestling down into the water, feeling my foot connect with his thigh as I rocket off of him and reach out to slap the nearest buoy, the plastic shooting away from my hand when I hit it. We must be a quarter mile off the beach, but the tide’s still going out so I can stand, the water hitting me at my chest. I raise my arms triumphantly as Alex comes up spluttering water, shaking his head so water pinwheels from his hair.

“I won,” I pant out.

“You cheated,” he says, pushing forward a few more steps and collapsing with both arms behind him, looped over the rope stringing along the buoys. He arches his back so his face is tilted up toward the sky. His T-shirt is completely soaked, and water beads off his eyelashes, trickles down his cheeks.

“No rules,” I say, “so no cheating.”

He turns to me, grinning. “I let you win, then.”

“Yeah, right.” I splash him a little and he holds up his hands, surrendering. “You’re just a sore loser.”

“I don’t have much practice at it.” There’s that confidence again, that semi-infuriating easiness of his, the tilt of his head and the smile. But today it’s not infuriating. Today I like it, feel like it’s somehow rubbing off on me, like if I was around him enough I would never feel awkward or frightened or insecure.

“Whatever.” I roll my eyes and hook one arm over the buoys next to him, enjoying the feel of the currents swishing around my chest, enjoying the strangeness of being in the bay with my clothes on, the stickiness of my T-shirt and the sucking of my shoes on my feet. Soon the tide will turn and the water will come in again. Then it will be a slow, exhausting swim back to the beach.