Entanglement (YA Dystopian Romance) - By Dan Rix Page 0,4
but a wet pair of boxers, Aaron recognized him as Corona Blanca’s rugby star, Dominic Brees. He grinned, flashing a broad mouth packed with shining white teeth. Then, to Aaron’s horror, he chanted, “Fight—fight—fight—” and within seconds, the whole school joined in.
Clive grabbed Dominic’s jacket. “You better be able to get me out of this,” he said. “I’m dead if my father finds out I got in another fight.” Evidently, Clive didn’t want the attention any more than Aaron did.
Dominic laughed and raised his hands, silencing the crowd. “We’ve had a change of plans,” he yelled. “Corona Blanca’s Clive Selavio will now race number eleven from Pueblo High School all the way out to the buoy!”
Aaron scowled. Clearly this was Dominic’s ploy to get more people in the water. Unfortunately, it worked. The spectators roared and changed their chant to, “Buoy—buoy—buoy—” Dominic slapped Clive on the back and receded into the circle, deserting him before he could protest.
Aaron scanned the shouting faces, trying to calm his breathing. How the hell had he gotten himself in this situation?
Of course it was that girl, Amber, who he noticed was conveniently nowhere in sight. For a night out, it was fairly typical, he supposed, as the crowd started booing him; he never quite managed to keep his damn mouth shut. At least not when it counted.
Aaron glanced back at Clive, and their eyes met across the ring. He had a hunch Clive would back down, and he prayed he was right because he wasn’t about to humiliate himself and disgrace his school. He whipped off his shirt and flung it to the sand.
The crowd cheered. Point for Pueblo.
Slowly, the corner of Clive’s pale, chapped lips tightened into a smirk. He tugged his hoodie over his head and laid it carefully on the driftwood, then he started on the buttons of his collared shirt, and the crowd went berserk.
Aaron stared at him. So they were actually going to do this.
***
Clive cheated, bolting for the water a full second before Dominic shouted, “GO!”
Aaron kicked off the sand and tore after him. He felt a deep rumble followed by a spray of mist, and from out of the darkness, a film of foamy surf slashed across his ankles.
There was no sign of a buoy, not even a line marking the horizon, just blackness. Thankfully Clive had kept his undershirt on because all Aaron could do was follow his bobbing white silhouette as they hurled themselves into the pounding surf.
Aaron dived under a wave and icy brine flooded his nostrils. He broke out into the open water, neck and neck with Clive. After a few minutes, he lost track of time. Gradually every square inch of his skin went numb with cold.
Then Clive’s splashes stopped.
But there was nothing up ahead. Aaron panicked. Had he followed a rogue wave? Was he in fact miles past the buoy, lost?
He tried to find the shore, but the water stung his eyes and blurred everything. He couldn’t even see the bonfire.
Something moved in the darkness ahead of him, and all at once, the pungent smell of salt and rotting fish rushed over him, filled his lungs, choked him. Right before a wave sucked him under, he saw huge masses shifting and blotting out the stars. He surfaced, terrified, to the sound of barking—violent, piercing barks that echoed off the water. Aaron clutched his ears.
There were splashes all around him, and he was aware that something else was swimming in the water with him—something big. He felt a thrust of cold water against his knees as a huge creature swam past him.
From somewhere behind him, he heard Clive shout, “Sea lions!”
More barking, more splashes, and more things swimming past him. Aaron twisted to get away from them, but the turbulence from their flippers pulled him back.
A moment later a white shape loomed in front of him, and he reached his arms out just in time to stop his face from colliding with hard metal. The buoy.
With Clive’s help, he tipped it over so they could rest the upper halves of their bodies. Underwater, Clive’s pocket emitted an eerie red glow, tinting the water around them purple.
“I won’t drown you for talking to Amber,” said Clive, after they caught their breath, “but do me a favor, okay? Don’t go near her again.”
“How about you quit treating her like dirt,” said Aaron.
Clive snickered. “Number eleven, you know better than to tell a man how to treat his own half.”