Page 6 of Under the Waves

But there was a small, hidden part of me that found some sort of comfort in the pain—in the sorrow and suffering, and for some reason, I didn’t want to let it go. The darkness inside my head had enveloped my mind for so long, I didn’t know who I was without it.

And worse, that same small part of me didn’t ever want to find out.

All I had to do this year was keep my head down and surf like hell if I wanted to grab one of Hawthorne Hills Elite Academy’s scholarship programs. As it was so well funded, it was the only Academy in all of the Northwestern Pacific statesthat couldonlyaccept students from wealthy backgrounds. However, it did offer ten scholarship places each year. It didn’t matter what the scholarship was for, there were ten and tenonly.

Never more. Never less.

And this summer, I was going to make sure that one of those places belonged tome.

Making my way down the old, hidden path that led up towards the back of my old house, I found myself holding my breath as I approached cautiously. People stared at me with a look I couldn’t escape from. The one everyone puts on as they see me—the one of disgust and fear.

Each time, they were met with my unyielding stare and clenched jaw. But, of course, they took one look at you regardless and decide that they knew everything about you. It happened all the time, especially when I went to the ER a few years back for a broken rib and busted shoulder—the doctor took one look at my file, read the words ‘has anxiety,do not prescribe any pain medication’, and decided that I was a nut-case with a drug problem.

Of course, he didn’t know that the only reason I overdosed on those pills was so that my mom wouldn’t be able to crush them and get high again. It didn’t stop her from forcing her fingers down my throat, screaming at me to throw them up. It wasn’t because she cared about me or wanted me to live…it was becauseshewanted them.

She wanted to be the one who got to leave this hellhole.

I unlocked the door and shook off my shoes onto the worn-out mat. The next few hours went by in a blur as I cleaned—just me, the trusty old mop, and my music. I put myHarry Stylesplaylist on shuffle and let myself forget the world.

Just as I tucked away the rest of the cleaning supplies under the sink, I jumped up onto the counter which was just big enough so that I could sit on it and stuffed my hands into my pockets, letting my head fall back against the cupboards overhead.

I remembered the panic that itched its way through my body when I pulled out the flier with the surf teacher job written across it, and immediately jumped off the counter. I threw on a pair of worn-down sliders and ran like hell was chasing me.

That was how I ended up here, standing outside the surfschool’s door, inches away from knocking as the sun began to set below the waves behind me. Just as I was about to knock, calling up the courage past Poppy used to own and make work for her, the door flew open, crashing straight into my face.

The cry that left my lips was drowned out by the string of Spanish curses from the person responsible for the trickle of blood that now dripped down my chin. Before I knew it, I was being pulled inside by the elbow and guided into what looked like a medical room. Pushed up against a chair that looked like the ones from the sick room back in kindergarten, I sat down and began to tilt my head backwards.

“No, no, no,” the same voice drew out, before huge, sturdy hands gripped the side of my face and tilted my head back down, “always tip your head down when you get a nosebleed, or you could end up choking on the blood.”

If I could, I would’ve smiled at the kind note, but my face was throbbing, and even thinking about doing that hurt. My eyes blurred over, and I could barely make out the tall figure crouched down, grabbing various things from the draws below. The only noise around us was the rustle of plastic packaging and opening of drawers, but it still managed to give me a headache.

“You’re not going to murder me, are you? Because I can scream really loud, and I’m sure the neighbors could hear me if you tried to stab me or something,” I said quietly, shocked that I’d even said something in the first place. I guess the nosebleed was making me lose tongued. Or maybe it was the throbbing pulse of my head making me dizzy. I couldn’t tell.

“If I was going to murder you, it would be with poison. Stabbing someone comes with a lot of blood that I would have to take care of, and like you said if you had a powerful scream, I wouldn’t have enough time to get rid of it all before the cops showed up,” the voice mused, playing along with my hypothetical situation.

“Seems like you’ve thought about this a lot. Have you done this before?”

“Done what before?”

“Bash girls noses in with doors and then plot how you’re going to murder them.”

He laughed, and it felt like a dream.

“Nope,” he breathed, “you’re my first victim.”

I tried to laugh. “I’m honored.”

“I think—” his voice stopped immediately, and only seconds later did I realize why as his firm hands gripped the side of my head, pulling me back upwards. A string of curses left his lips as he spoke quietly to himself, but I could still hear him. I think I would always hear his voice.

What felt like moments later, he removed the tissue from under my nose, and I wondered how long that had been there.Wow, this must be what my mom felt like when she was out of it. That thought alone was enough motivation for me to fight the faint that was about to take over my body.

Tight arms wrapped around my waist as I felt his warm body push against mine. He leaned back, taking me with him, and I was suddenly increasingly aware of his bare chest pushed up against my back.

Just as I squirmed out of his grip, he hushed in my ear, “Don’t fight it. I’ve got you.”

And suddenly, that was enough encouragement my body needed to plunge me straight into oblivion. As my vision went, I barely felt his fingers as they brushed a strand of my hair behind my ear, or his rushed breaths as he held me tighter to him.

Everything went black, but for once in my life…

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