“WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?” TAY ASKS WHEN HE SEES ME IN DILLON’S WETSUIT.
We stand on the harbor wall at six a.m., getting soaked in the drizzle and morning fog. It gets light early in the mornings now, but even though it’s daylight, everything is dark gray. The Black Isle has no color today. The only sign that it’s the beginning of summer is the swarm of midgies around my head. They love the damp weather, and there’s no breeze to shoo them away.
As rain pours from my nose and eyelashes, Tay kneels in front of me and pulls at the worn fabric, trying to hitch it up my legs.
“It’s full of fuckin’ holes, Elsie. Where did you get it from?”
“It’s my brother Dillon’s. He doesn’t use it anymore.”
“Ah.” He lets go of me and stands up. He looks toward the road and shivers.
“You okay?”
He continues to look over my shoulder.
“Does Dillon know you’re here? He looked the protective type.”
I’m not sure about that. Dillon is thin and gentle. I don’t think anyone would describe him as “protective.” Not in a physical way, anyway.
“Is that why you ran away? You were scared of him?” I joke.
Tay does a nervous laugh and then places his hands on my shoulders.
“Scared? Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Then why did you run off?” I ask, trying to keep the resentment from my voice.
“I just noticed the time and had to go. I’ve got a strict dad too.”
I’ve seen his dad, and he’s even scarier than mine. Not sure I’m buying his story, though.
“So Dillon doesn’t know you’re here?”
“God, stop stressing. He’s not going to beat you up. He was drunk, that’s all. He doesn’t really care who I’m with.” Although that might not be true.
Tay wipes the rain from his face and ushers me toward the edge of the wall.
“Come on—let’s get in the water.” He looks at my worried face. “Don’t worry, we’re not jumping.”
We climb down the metal ladder attached to the side of the wall, Tay first and me hoping he doesn’t look up and see my enormous backside. I hear a light splash and look down to see him already in the water.
“Come on, slowcoach,” he shouts to me. “Not afraid, are you?”
Now is not a good time to be ridiculing me. It makes me want to turn around and go home. When my foot reaches the last rung, I slip and fall into the water. It’s so cold that when I try to swear, I discover I have no breath. Tay grabs me and pulls me upright. The water is only waist deep here, but it is freezing.
“Got you. Now just crouch down, like me.”
He pulls off his wetsuit hood, which was around his neck, and tells me to put it on. I’m too cold to argue. I’m too cold, too afraid, to do anything but follow his instructions. We swim a few meters out to a buoy, and I hold on to it, shivering while Tay does a test dive to make sure everything’s okay. I hold my hand above the water and feel the rain bouncing up. Rain falling on water doesn’t make as much noise as rain on the roof of our house, and because I’m already wet, I hardly notice it. Out here, I feel like I’m in another world.
The mist blocks my view of the mainland and there is no one in the harbor. Other than Tay below me, I am the only soul around. No one is yelling or crying. It’s magical. I’m enjoying it so much, I’m slightly disappointed when Tay comes back to the surface.
“Are you ready for your first freedive?” He fist-bumps me and places a heavy rock in my left hand. “To help you get down. Hang on to it until we come back.”
“Okay. I’m ready.”
“Three deep breaths on the surface, slowly, then on the fourth one we go down. Hold the rope—it’s two meters to the bottom. We’ll kneel there until you give the thumbs-up sign to say you want to go up.”
I pull my mask onto my face, and after three breaths we go down. The pressure quickly builds in my ears. I swallow, and my ears finally pop. It takes only a couple of seconds to hit the bottom, and the sand is soft. Tay gives me the okay sign, a circle made with his thumb and forefinger, and settles on his knees with his arms folded and his eyes fixed on me. He has no hood, no mask, and no booties. He is definitely hard-core. With my right hand gripping the rope, I shiver gently, trying to focus on counting instead of the cold water. At thirty, I finally look around and discover I can see quite far. The visibility down here is actually better than on the surface. A small fish swims past and then turns and swims back again. I let go of the rope and draw patterns in the sand. Tay shakes his head and places my hand back on the rope. My chest is pulsating now. I try to hold on for another twenty counts and take in my surroundings. I want to remember this forever. This is the coolest moment of my life so far. If only I hadn’t waited sixteen years to try it. It’s totally amazing.
To my left is an anchor covered in green slime. And something white. It looks like a shoe, half wedged into the muddy bottom—a shoe, and one that looks very familiar. A scuffed white trainer.