Page 44 of The Black Table
But before I can see the face of my rescuer, he’s pulling me to shore, left arm wrapped around my waist, right arm cutting forward, almost effortlessly, in time with his legs, moving faster as a duo than I could have managed by myself. The return trip seems to take half the time, like we’re just gliding over the surface, skimming smooth as a sailboat, until my knees are hitting soft sand and I can crawl forward.
Coughing, gasping, I fall out of his grasp, and that’s when I look back and see it’s the boy from Saturday night. Or one of them. The tallest one, the biggest and most silent.
Callahan.
What the hell was he doing out at the lake at this hour?
Pine needles and dirt cling to my fingers, push into my knees as my breath catches and sticks and water burns out of my throat until finally, finally I’m breathing regular again.
“You shouldn’t be out here,” Callahan says.
He hasn’t stood, just sits on his knees in the lapping edge of the water, looking at me with concern. He’s wearing skin-tight, knee-length swim trunks…and that’s it. Yet he doesn’t seem cold at all.
I splutter. “You’re one to talk,” I manage.
He doesn’t react, and I feel an immediate pang of shame. He just rescued me, maybe saved my life, and this is how I act?
I swallow, which hurts.
“I’m so sorry. That’s not what I meant. I just?—”
“I come out here for conditioning,” he explains. “Before we practice in the morning. It’s…” he trails off. “My own form of discipline.”
He gives me a probing look, searching for signs of damage, and I notice for the first time how handsome he is. An arresting thought to have at a moment like this, but it’s hardnotto notice, especially when he’s wearing barely anything and water is clinging to the ends of his long, thick eyelashes.
“What did you think you were doing?” he said, his tone softer than it should be, less accusatory.
I shake my head, checking for water in my ears, and as I do, look around the shore. There’s no one.
I’m alone.
“I was…she…” I sweep my wet hair out of my eyes. “God damn it. My swim test,” I say. “That girl Elena was here to proctor it for me.”
Callahan’s jaw tightens.
“The swim tests are done in the pool,” he says.
What?
“But I saw a sign?—”
“She’s swim team captain,” he mutters. “She should know better.”
I fold my arms against a sudden, chill breeze.
“I think shedoesknow better,” I mutter. To myself or to him, I’m not sure.
Because I get it. Get the joke.
Funny prank. Let the new girl drown. Let her join Vivian in the depths of the…
I shiver.
Whatever I saw in there, I don’t want to think about. Don’t want to be real.
Because it isn’t. None of it’s real.
Not what I saw here.
