But with Lauren’s teeth-clenching glare, she looked more like her twin than ever. Evan had the lighter, more fun personality but eyes that could slice you with a look. Lauren tried to be as bubbly, but she had a streak of her father in her: intimidating and argumentative. He was a top-notch lawyer, and Brynna had no doubt that when Lauren grew up, she would be too. She had a way of telling jokes that were a little too serious and poking fun about things no one joked about. Basic questions sounded accusatory coming out of her mouth. Evan blamed it on the fact she never got over being the younger—by six minutes—twin.
“It’s what you didn’t do.” Lauren pushed an index finger in front of Brynna’s nose. “You never told me you were, like, a massive swimmer.”
Evan gaped. “What?”
“Oh, yeah, your Queen B here has been holding out on us.”
Brynna took a miniscule step back, heat washing over her as she crashed into the bank of lockers. “Where did you hear that?”
“Darcy works in the office third period, and your old school sent something over to you. I heard it was your varsity letter for the Lincoln swim team.”
Brynna clamped her jaws shut certain, if she didn’t, her thundering heart would burst out of her mouth.
“Okay, that has to be a mistake. Bryn hates the water. Don’t you, Bryn?”
Lauren mashed her palm against her brother’s chest. “They don’t give varsity letters to freshmen who hate the water.” She turned her eyes on Brynna. “So?”
“I, uh, I did swim—for a little bit, over at Lincoln.”
Lauren’s eyebrows went up. “Varsity?”
Brynna’s blood thundered in her ears, and a snapshot of Erica, darting through the water in her Lincoln-purple swimsuit, shot across her mind. “It was a really bad team. Everyone made varsity.”
“You must have spent an awful lot of time on the bottom of the pool ignoring, like, everything. Because (a) Lincoln High is beachside and word is that your coach actually makes his team practice in the ocean, and (b) Lincoln was division champions, like, forever.”
“Unlike our own Hawthorne Hornets,” Evan said, slinging an arm around Lauren. She glared at him. He wrinkled his nose and tossed a glance toward Brynna. “Hornets aren’t exactly water insects.”
“That’s why we totally need you! You have to try out. Hell, you probably don’t even have to try out. You own a bathing suit, you’re on the team.”
“No, no,” Brynna started, feeling a bead of sweat itch its way down her stomach. “I—I don’t swim anymore.”
Evan shrugged. “You’re going to have to swim either way.”
Brynna felt like she was underwater—drowning—the air being forced out of her lungs. “What are you talking about?”
“Swim test.”
Brynna looked from Evan to Lauren. “What swim test?”
“The one you need to graduate. Everyone has to take one. It’s so lame. Jump in, float, go to the bottom, swim across the pool, and no bikinis.”
Heat snaked up the back of Brynna’s neck. Just the thought of getting into the pool made her seize up, made her heartbeat start to race.
The pool that was once so freeing to her was like a cellblock now. And water, that moving, churning being with icy, clawing fingers, had taken Erica away, and Brynna knew that it wanted her too.
Brynna forced herself to breathe and prayed that her knees wouldn’t buckle. “Why do we need a swim test to graduate?”
This time Evan and Lauren both shrugged. “I don’t know. Probably some holdover from the olden days. Or like, ‘Send your kids to school! They might die here, but they’ll know how to swim.’”
Lauren raised her eyebrows. “Well, they’ve got something there. Bullets are crap in the water.” She swung her attention back to Brynna. “So? You’ll do it, right? If you’re on the swim team, you automatically pass the swim test. Unless you drown.” Lauren laughed at her own joke, a loud kind of guffaw that made Brynna want to hate her.
“Sorry, Lauren. Like I said, I don’t swim anymore.”
Lauren abruptly stopped laughing and put her fists on her hips. “Why the hell not?”
Brynna wished that Evan would say something, would drag her out of this horrible inquiry, but he did nothing, looking at her with an open face.