Between You & Me - By Marisa Calin Page 0,43
I feel almost upbeat.
NEIGHBORS’ SWIMMING POOL. SATURDAY AFTERNOON.
We can’t use the school pool because it’s the weekend, so we’re over at your neighbors’. They have the nice house next to yours and a pool—outdoors, but heated. It’s late afternoon already, so the underwater lights are on, making it glow a brilliant blue. I sink into the warm water. It’s colder out than in, steam rising off the surface, evaporating where it meets the cold air. We duck under together, gliding along the bottom of the pool. You’ve always been comfortable in water—graceful and quick. I roll over to look up at the surface, to make sure I’m not causing ripples. It’s like a different world down here, the surface like a sheet of glass above us. You swim ahead, light glancing off your body. You come up in the shallow end and I swim up to you, wrapping my arms around your knees and tipping you into the water. We break into the air together laughing. I push my hair back from my face. The sun has disappeared behind the trees and I hear you sigh in the silence. You sink down into the water again, resting your chin on the surface like me, to keep your shoulders warm. I suck in the brisk air. I feel alive, divided in two, my body relaxed, soaked in warmth, my face wide awake in the cold air. I watch the tips of my hair fan out on the surface, thinking of all the times we’ve gone swimming together since we were young. We bob there a while longer, just breathing and listening to the birds that sing at dusk. Under the water, your skin appears almost blue in the light, separate from the tops of your tanned shoulders. Now and again I duck beneath the surface to warm up my face. Only when I finally start to shiver do we make a run for our towels, the cold air catching in my throat until I’m hugging my towel around me.
YOUR BEDROOM. SOON AFTER.
We watch the last of the light drain out of the sky from the warmth of your window. Kneeling on your bed to see over your head into the small mirror, I pin up my hair, mumbling through the clips in my mouth.
ME
Anks er elppin me.
You turn around and gently remove the clips so I can smile at you for real.
YOU
Hope you didn’t say something really special ’cause I missed it.
ME
I said, anks.
You laugh the warmest laugh you have.
YOU
In that case, you’re wecom.
You kneel beside me, your face still glowing from the cold. Mine must be too because you run your finger down my nose, then drop abruptly back on to the bed. I look at my cherry-pink nose in the mirror and cover it with my hand, pulling my sweater up to rest below my eyes. When you catch my eye, you laugh again.
ME
I’d never have made it through this week without you.
As I watch you tug your fingers through your hair, I think about how self-involved I’ve been. With everything that’s been going on, I can’t remember the last time I asked about you.
ME
How are you?
You reach out a hand for me to shake.
YOU
I’m fine, thanks. How are you?
I slap your hand away.
ME
Stop, I’m serious! I haven’t asked in a long time and I’d like to know.
You pull your sweater up over your nose too so I can only see your eyes, your blond hair drying in a flighty sweep across your forehead.
YOU
Everything’s good. Really good.
ME
And you would tell me if it wasn’t?
YOU
Sure I would.
Your eyes crease, so I figure you’re smiling.
Feel ready for the play?
I look right at the dark centers of your eyes, the only feature I can see.
ME
I think so.
THEATER. AFTERNOON OF DRESS REHEARSAL. THE NEXT THURSDAY, BEFORE FIRST NIGHT.
I’m sitting at the edge of the glistening pool of water in the stage, knees tucked up and gazing at the shimmering surface beneath the stage lights. There are a few people spread around the theater, putting finishing touches to the set and lighting. I’m trying not to look at Mia. I can sense her standing in the first row and looking out at the stage but I figure that if I seem aloof I’ll prove something to the rest of the cast and to myself. I’m not sure she’s even noticed. There’s no heartbreak, no Phyre, I feel like you’re not speaking to me. Besides, ignoring her is not helping. The whispering has continued. I