“Sounds like loser talk to me,” I shout back, darting through trees and clawing at roots to pull myself up the small bluff holding the trunk of the swing’s tree.
My footing slips, and soon Will passes me, laughing over his shoulder and winking as his toes fling mud all around me.
“Oww!” I shout, sitting down and turning to lift my foot in my hand.
“Maddy, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”
Will climbs down a few paces to lean on the hill next to me, and as soon as he’s resting his weight on his knee, I push against his shoulder and lift myself up, sprinting by him again.
“Ha ha, sucker!” I yell, pumping my arms and legs hard the rest of the way to the rope. I tug the end and begin unwrapping, but am not fast enough to beat Will completely. His hands cover mine as we both manically battle to take control over this piece of our childhood.
“I got here first!” I giggle, pushing one of his hands away only to have to fend off the other.
“Doesn’t matter. I’m the superior swinger,” he says.
I lean my head back and laugh hard.
“You’re a swinger, Will Hollister? I had no idea,” I say.
He purses his lips, and my chest shudders with my amusement.
Our arms tangle, and we both try to hug the rope, my feet struggling against his to steady the small peg of wood at the bottom. Eventually, we’re both locked into one another, and I let out a heavy sigh. There’s no way I’m going to be able to cut him loose, and there’s no way he’s going to give up and let me have the first swing. We never let the other one win at anything, not even the shit that didn’t matter.
“Fine, we go together,” I say.
Will’s eyes hit mine.
“Fine!” he shouts, pulling my body in close to his and pushing away from the ridge of the hill before I have a chance to truly prepare myself for any of it.
“You son of a…”
My words fade into a scream as we sail above the water in a huge half circle. I scrunch my eyes closed and hold my breath as Will tugs my hands free of the rope, our legs kicking together while his arms hold onto my body tightly as we fall toward the water, the cold hitting us in a rush, knocking the wind from our lungs—muffled screams quickly silenced under the water.
We fall deep into the blue, bubbles fizzing along our arms and legs as we break free and kick our way back to the surface. I cough when I taste air, and Will howls, flinging his arms back into a backstroke, kicking his legs hard and splashing water into the sky.
“Wooo whoo!” he yells, his voice echoing around us.
I gasp and tread water, my arms and legs working hard to find warmth for my chest.
“That was so much better than I remember!” he says.
“Ye…yeah…so so so so so….”
My teeth chatter.
Will chuckles, swimming back to me, reaching his arm out for me to take. I grab hold and let him pull me in, my only focus on catching my breath until suddenly I can breathe, and my attention becomes fixed on the feel of his hand on the place where my suit is cut low along my back. His warmth on my skin. His legs kicking with mine, to hold me up. His head resting against mine. His breath…ragged. My eyes falling to his mouth, my lips quivering, his parting. His tongue resting between his teeth. Shivers.
“We should go,” I say. My hand finds the center of his chest and pushes.
Will doesn’t fight, quickly letting go of his grip on me. I kick and swing my arms a few times until I see the shoreline come into view through the murky water. Righting myself, I walk up the rest of the way, pushing my hair back from my face, twisting it and wringing it out. Debris from the ground sticks to my feet and legs, so I pick some of the larger leaves away before bending down and grabbing my T-shirt. I slide it over my head, and it sticks to my wet suit underneath.
I don’t turn to watch Will walk up the shore, but I hear the crunch of the leaves under his feet as he steps closer, and from my periphery, I see him lift his own shirt in his hands. I pick up my shorts and feel in the pockets, panic hitting me unexpectedly when I don’t feel the photo inside. My eyes begin to dart around, and I turn in circles until Will’s hand wraps around my arm, causing me to look up at him.
“Here,” he says, his eyes on the photo of a much younger me and him. I look down and take it from his hand.
“Thanks,” I say. “It must have fallen out.”
He breathes in slowly.
“Must have,” he says, his voice quiet, but the swallow that follows is loud.
I stand frozen while he moves to a large stone, sitting and pulling on his shoes. I choke on everything eating me up inside, coughing as I step into my shorts, keeping the photo in my hands to protect it from getting wet.
“You ready?” Will asks, his eyes moving away from me the moment I look at him.
I nod, even though he can’t see me. He doesn’t wait to hear my words and begins to walk up the slope to his car.