Until We Meet Again

“This probably isn’t the best time to say that I’m not a great

swimmer,” I call over the rush of surf.

A warm, firm hand wraps around mine. Lawrence smiles.

“I’ll watch out for you.”

We swim on. Soon my feet can no longer touch the bottom.

A dark feeling settles over me. This is not good. Who knows

what could be swimming around beneath my feet, watching

me from below?

“Do you know if there are any sharks in these waters?”

Lawrence laughs. “Don’t worry, Cassandra. I’ve got you.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

The waves grow stronger the deeper we go, the closer we

move to the breakers. Lawrence makes a few strong strokes,

letting go of my hand for a moment.

“You haven’t disappeared yet,” he calls. “This is the farthest

we’ve gotten from the beach. I think we might have found

the solution!”

I strain to see him over the white peaks of waves. Water keeps

splashing against my face. But every time I rub it away, I sink a

little. I don’t like feeling so powerless, so vulnerable. Then, one

particularly large wave engulfs my head completely. I thrash to

the surface, coughing and sputtering.

“Lawrence, I want to go back.”

No answer. Nothing but the crash of surf.

“Lawrence?”

Wiping my eyes, I look in every direction. Combined with

the up and down of the waves, it’s a dizzying, chaotic feeling.

But the only things I can see is the surface of the water. He’s

gone. Panic seeps into my chest like ink. I’m alone out here in

the middle of the ocean. My legs are tired. The waves are too

strong. I’m going to go under.

“Lawrence!” I shout. “Lawrence!”

Another wave smacks against my head, dragging me down.

Startled, I release the air in my mouth in a burst of bubbles.

The water is an opaque indigo. Salt burns my eyes. My lungs

ache for breath. I feel my body sinking like a stone.





Chapter 9





Cassandra


y body twists. I don’t know which way is up and

M

which is down. I flail my arms and legs, searching

for some semblance of balance. But that only seems to drag me

down further.



And then, just as my lungs are about to burst, a pair of arms

wrap around my waist. My body rights itself and I kick up as

hard as I can. My head bursts out of the water and I gasp. Wet

hair covers my face. I wipe it aside, coughing.

“Cassandra! Are you okay?” Lawrence’s voice crackles, soft

and distant. And yet I still feel his arms. I nod, panting for

breath. I can hardly make out his face.

“How did you see me?” I ask, shaking from the whole

experience.

“I don’t really know,” he admits. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’m okay. Let’s just go back.”

We swim a few strong kicks. The thrust of the waves propels us. As we draw closer to the shore, the blurry, translucent

Lawrence fills in with color and form until he’s back to himself.

We swim hard—not speaking. Then finally we reach the shore.

I crawl up on shaky limbs and collapse onto the sand.

I lie there for a moment, my cheek pressed to the sand. Waves

rush over my feet and legs, but I don’t move. Lawrence lies on

his back beside me.

“Well,” he says, his voice halted and tired. “That’s that, then.”

When we’ve caught our breath, we wrap in the towels

Lawrence brought and sit back in our spot on the beach.

“I still don’t know how you saw me under the water,” I say,

hugging the warm towel close to me. “I could barely see you

even above the surface.”

Lawrence shakes his head. “I’m so sorry to put you through

that.”

“It’s not your fault I’m a crappy swimmer.”

He rubs his temples. “When we got that far out, I was so sure

we’d discovered the solution. I got excited and let go of your

hand. But then, I couldn’t see you… I thought you’d drowned.”

“I was worried about that myself for a minute.”

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