“Maybe you should get off the raft anyway,” Harper suggested. “This is called swim period. Not lie-around period.”
Cece glared. “Are you calling me lazy?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“Girls!” The lifeguard, a girl my age named Sandy, suddenly yelled from her chair on the pier. “Stop fighting! Cece, Harper’s right—it’s time to get off the raft. Harper, move along.”
Both girls let out huge sighs and gave each other one last angry look before Harper did another graceful swan dive, and Cece rolled her eyes and jumped off the side, feetfirst.
I lay back and closed my eyes for a few minutes after that. Swim period was one of my off periods—Sandy was supposed to be in charge. Which left me free to relax and daydream. I was writing a postcard to Ned in my head when suddenly a splash of water fell onto my nose.
“Hey!” I cried, opening my eyes.
“Oh, sorry,” a soaking-wet Harper apologized, leaning over me. Water dripped down her wet hair and onto my towel. “I was just passing you on my way to the outhouse.”
“Well, move along!” I said with a smile. “You’re getting me all wet! Shoo!”
Harper chuckled and ran off. I closed my eyes again for a few minutes, trying to get back into my postcard, but I couldn’t concentrate. Swim period would be over soon, anyway. So I sat up to watch the swimmers.
Just as I got settled in a cross-legged position, I heard a scream.
“Auuugh!”
And then there was a splash.
I jumped to my feet, turning my eyes in the direction of the all-too-familiar sounds. Kiki was treading water by the raft, looking horrified. “It’s Cece!” she yelled to Sandy. “Something pulled her under!”
I felt my heart begin to race.
These girls weren’t here for my swim test, I couldn’t help thinking. They don’t know what happened. There’s no way this could be a prank. . . .
Sandy jumped up. “Stay where you are!” she yelled to Kiki, who was holding her nose in preparation to dive under and look for her friend. A stream of bubbles rose to the surface where Cece had disappeared. “I’ll get her!”
In one fluid move, Sandy dove off the pier and slipped through the water toward Kiki. From where I stood on the beach, I lost sight of her under the dark, murky water. I found myself holding my breath as second after second passed with neither Sandy nor Cece reappearing. What happens now? I thought anxiously. Do I go under and try to save them? I’m probably one of the weakest swimmers here. . . .
But just as my heart felt like it might pound out of my chest, Sandy’s blond head crested the surface, and she pushed Cece’s head up above the waterline.
“Breathe,” Sandy said. “Breathe. You’re okay.”
Cece was flailing, obviously panicked. But Sandy kept talking to her in a calm, reassuring voice. “You’re all right. Just calm down so you can get the air in. In, and out. In, and out.”
Slowly the panic left Cece’s eyes and she began to breathe normally. Once she was breathing, Sandy helped her swim to the pier and climb out.
“Are you all right?” I cried, running down the pier to grab Cece by the hands.
Cece nodded. “I’m okay. It’s just . . .” Her eyes teared up. “It felt like something grabbed me and pulled me down.”
Sandy, who’d climbed out after Cece, frowned at me. “I heard there was some trouble with the plants at the bottom of the lake a few days ago. Maybe that was it?”
I took in a breath. Sure, that’s the official line—but plants can’t grab you, I thought. “Maybe,” I said in a measured tone, and went back to comforting Cece.
After a few minutes, Cece came to sit with me on my towel and relax while swim period went on. Of course, I couldn’t relax for anything now and sat ramrod straight on my towel, watching the girls. But after a little while, footsteps from the path attracted my attention.
I turned around.
Harper was emerging from the path. And she was still soaking wet.
My mouth dropped open, and even as I hated myself for having the thought, I couldn’t help it.
Harper had been fighting with Cece.
Harper had disappeared a few minutes before the attack and reappeared a few minutes after.
Harper was a very, very strong swimmer—one who could, likely, hold her breath for a long time.
Even as the thought occurred to me, I shook my head in doubt. Harper was a kid, first of all. And she hadn’t been at camp when whatever had pulled me and Deborah down had struck—unless that really had been reeds? And what was happening now was unrelated?
Harper barely paused as she walked past Cece and me on the beach. She didn’t ask what Cece was doing out of the water. She just dropped her towel, barreled down the pier, and jumped in.
It was a few minutes before I realized how off my Harper theory was.
Because suddenly, with Harper paddling around just feet away, Nina started screaming.