Later, I lie on my bed with my palms facing out. I slowly breathe in over five seconds and hold, then breathe out over ten seconds. After five goes, I feel dizzy and sleepy but it passes. I take a big breath in and count to a hundred and twenty. It was easy. I do it again; I count to a hundred and forty. I do it again; I count to one fifty. I do it again; I count to one forty. I do it again; I count to one thirty-nine. I lose count. I wonder how many seconds it would take to get to forty-three meters.
13
THE BOATHOUSE IS MY SECOND HOME. I MEET TAY MOST DAYS after school to dive or just hang out. Now that summer is well on its way, it stays light late into the evening, and it’s hard to remember to go home. Sometimes we see Danny, and I wave to show he can’t get to me. He never waves back, and Tay moves me along and tells me to ignore him. Sometimes we pop in to see Mick, but he’s usually too busy to talk to us. He still makes the best hot chocolate, though, and there’s always a good selection of diving magazines to thumb through.
Every time we go into the water, I push myself to go a little bit deeper, and the thrill of it fills me with adrenaline and makes me want to go deeper still. Ten meters, then twelve, then fourteen, then sixteen, and finally eighteen. Sometimes Tay comes down with me; other times he hovers near the surface and then comes down to pull me up when he thinks I’m down too long. If he can’t meet me, he leaves me little notes about diving. They’re amazing, full of tips on how to increase my lung capacity, drawings (of me!) demonstrating how to do dolphin kicks and frog kicks, how to reserve my energy. What to do in an emergency—release my weights and kick for the surface. A list of things to remember: 1. Be confident. 2. Never dive alone. 3. Let your mind control your body. There aren’t any tips on how to go deeper, though. I don’t understand why Tay isn’t interested in that. Especially as Mick told me that Tay can go the deepest out of anyone. At school I create my own bubble to hide in. I barely listen in my classes. I hide Tay’s notes inside my textbooks and read them instead. I haven’t done any studying for my exams, but I don’t even care.
I’m smiling at a picture Tay has drawn of me in the lotus position with a speech bubble coming out of my mouth saying, “Tay is the best teacher,” when I feel something hit my ear. Then an elastic band flies past me and falls by my feet. I do my best to ignore it, but when the bell goes, I am surrounded.
“What you got there?” Ailsa grabs the drawing and shows everyone, then tears it into tiny pieces.
“None of your business,” I say.
Ailsa grabs my hair, and one of her sidekicks stamps on my foot.
“I know you put the rotten fruit in my bag,” she hisses. “Don’t think you’re going to get away with it.”
When she pulls her hand away, she takes a clump of my hair with it. It hurts so much, I want to cry, but I do not cry at school. It’s Lara who comes to my rescue.
“Leave her alone,” she says. “Find someone else to bother.”
Ailsa stares at Lara, open-mouthed, and then pushes her to the side.
“Well, you would stick up for your pathetic little boyfriend’s sister, wouldn’t you?” And she marches off with her sidekicks in tow.
Lara doesn’t move. I don’t want to, but I force myself to say thank you to her because it’s polite. Then I realize she only did it because she wants to talk to me about Dillon.
“I’m worried about him,” she says. “He seems really distant. Is everything okay at home? I know he’s got exams, but so have we.”
“Yeah, fine,” I say, wondering how much Dillon has told her about Mum’s drinking and Dad’s disappearing acts.
“I guess you guys have a lot to deal with,” she says. “If you ever want to talk . . .”
She looks genuinely concerned, and I feel sorry for her. I hope my brother isn’t the shag-then-leave-them type.
“I think Dillon is okay,” I say. “He’s just a bit stressed over his exams.”
But she’s right. Dillon is being very weird. He keeps having nightmares, and he never eats the food I cook, even when it’s healthy. I need to take him to the beach to cheer him up and get him away from his books. I also want to ask him again who he was looking for on the beach that day. I haven’t had any new memories, and now that I’m comfortable in the water, I’m starting to think I might not have any ever again.
14
THERE IS A HUGE SWELL, AND THE WIND CHURNS UP THE WATER so it looks like frothed-up egg white. Tay isn’t in the boathouse, where we’d agreed to meet. After a few minutes, I hear the door to the clubhouse slam, and then voices. I crawl outside and peer around the corner.
Danny and Tay are on the veranda having what looks like a heated discussion. The wind is too loud for me to hear properly, but I catch the end of the conversation.