“Sure, let’s go.”
He reaches halfway toward me, pauses, as if he wanted to take my hand, then didn’t know if that was wrong. I could take his, but I don’t—the awkward moment hangs there, neither of us knowing what to do, then he turns and sprints toward the boulders. One powerful leg launches him to the top, where the other powerful leg sends him sailing out over the water. He arcs through the air, a dirt-covered mixture of grace and muscle. It looks like he will knife into the water just as Coyotl did, but at the last second Bishop tucks into a tight ball. When he hits, he sends up a big wave that splashes Spingate—she goes rigid and squeals with laughter.
I use my spear like a cane, balancing myself as I climb over a tall boulder to stand on the wet rocks lining the pool. I look into the water. It gets deep fast, but the shallows hide jagged rocks. Are my friends all crazy jumping in like that?
Bishop bursts from the surface. Water cascades down his now-clean skin, sparkling in the sunlight. I flash back to the Xolotl, to the talk with Brewer, when I was staring at the gnarled creature and thinking, I don’t know what a god is, exactly, but if gods do exist they don’t look like this thing.
No: if gods exist, they look like Bishop.
I squat down on my heels, cup my hand and fill it with cold water. I rub it on my face; it feels amazing. I am so unclean. Should I take off my shirt, be bare-chested like Bishop and Coyotl and Farrar?
The thought of that embarrasses me even more than seeing Spingate in her see-through shirt. I’ll keep my clothes on—I don’t want these boys to see my body.
At least, not all the boys.
I try not to stare at Bishop as I stand and look for a safe place to dive in. My foot suddenly slides off the wet rock and plunges into the water. I cry out in surprise—off-balance, I drop my spear and whirl my arms trying to stay up, but my other foot slips as well and I start to fall.
Bishop catches me before I go all the way under.
His arm is under my back, his hand on my hip. His body feels solid, so strong. His arms have the power to crush the life out of anyone, yet he holds me so gently.
He’s so close. His skin is so warm.
Bishop opens his mouth to speak, then stops, as if words have escaped him. He lifts me, sets me back on the rock. He’s still standing in the water. For once, I am taller than he is.
Water drips from my ripped skirt. The bottom of my shirt is wet—it clings to my ribs, drips down my exposed belly.
Coyotl and Farrar are laughing, splashing, oblivious to anything other than whatever new game they’ve concocted. Spingate, however, is looking right at me. My eyes meet hers. She smiles slightly, one corner of her mouth ticking up. She turns to Coyotl and Farrar.
“I want to test the water at the top of the waterfall,” she says to them. “I’m not sure I can make it up there on my own, can you two help?”
Farrar’s wide chest puffs out. “Yes! We’ll help you.”
Coyotl makes a strange face, then glances at Bishop, who still holds me in his arms. Coyotl’s lip curls into a small smile just like Spingate’s.
“Sure,” he says to her. “Happy to be of assistance.”
The stone steps leading up are wide and dry. Spingate doesn’t need any help. She’s taking the others away so I can be alone with Bishop.
He’s still staring at me. He doesn’t seem to notice anything but me.
Farrar helps Spingate stand on a boulder. He starts up after her, but she pushes him—arms flailing, he splashes back into the pool.
Water dripping from her scraps of clothing, Spingate hops off the boulder and runs for the steps.
“Last one to the top is an ugly Grownup!”
Coyotl and Farrar chase after her, laughing, enjoying the new game. They catch her almost immediately, but don’t run past—they’re more interested in walking by her side than winning. Up and up they go, talking as they climb. I can’t hear them over the waterfall’s roar.
Bishop looks down at my foot. “Does it hurt?”
It doesn’t hurt at all.
“Yes,” I say.
He kneels in the water. His big hands gently grip my ankle. His touch…it makes something surge in my stomach and chest. Just like my rage at Spingate was instant and overwhelming, so too is this new sensation of heat, of thoughts lost in a swimming, dizzy whirl.
He leans in, looking closely.
“I don’t think it’s broken,” he says. “I should check your shin and calf…”
His hands slide softly up my leg. Fingertips press in; is he really seeing if I’m hurt, or is he pretending just as much as I am?
He glances up at me with those beautiful dark-yellow eyes. A warrior who will snarl and fight and kill, yet he has such pretty eyes?
The waterfall’s roar fills my ears.
My heart…each beat feels like it’s punching my chest.
Bishop’s lips, so pink.
He rises slowly, sliding his hands to my hips, then my ribs. I feel weak…boneless.
This is the boy who saved my life.