it. I’ve always been at the bottom, watching the daring people jump off. I’ve seen Kayden do it numerous times. I was too scared to try.
Yet here I am in the middle of the night with an audience daring me to jump.
I should back down, but I’m hardheaded and will do anything in my power to show I’m right and he’s wrong. Because Kayden is always wrong.
“Alright Ari, you can stop now,” he says, and all the shouting voices instantly stop. That’s Kayden for you. He only needs to say a word for people to quiet down and listen up.
I roll my eyes. “You think I can’t do it,” I tell him, my words a little slurred. Maybe I’m a bit tipsier than I thought.
“You need to back away and put your clothes on,” he orders, like he has any authority over me.
My hate for Kayden runs so deep that even though putting my clothes on and leaving is exactly what I want to do, when he tells me to do it I instantly don’t want to anymore.
“You don’t tell me what to do!” I fire back.
“Just jump,” someone shouts, breaking through the silence.
“Shut it,” Kayden barks back and when I turn to look at him, I find his eyes focused on me. He’s not smiling, there’s no smugness. Instead, there’s almost, like, a dark cloud looming over him. Is he pissed? Why would he be mad right now? “Put your clothes on and go home, Ari,” he adds.
My eyes shift from him to the darkness in front of me. Defiantly, I take a step forward.
“Ari,” he warns, but I don’t acknowledge him.
Despite how much my fear tells me to back down, I can’t. I take yet another step forward. “I’m not scared,” I turn to him and say, but I think it’s more me trying to convince myself.
“You should be,” he replies. “You’re drunk, standing naked on top of a rock, ready to plunge into freezing water.”
“I’m not naked and you guys do it all the time, what’s the big deal?” I ask. If they can do it, why can’t I?
“We do it during the day and in the summer. This is not that. Stop acting up, back up.” I swear he almost sounds like he cares about me and my wellbeing. But I know he doesn’t. Kayden only cares about himself. Always has. Well, he cares about making my life a living hell, too.
“A little cold water never killed anybody,” I say, stepping forward again. Either my steps are really small, or the edge of this rock is really far.
“Stop,” he says, and I bring my attention to him once more. He starts walking toward me. The closer he gets the less I feel I can breathe. Something about him always makes me feel like there’s not enough air around me. Like I’m suffocating. Like he sucks it all up.
“Leave me alone,” I tell him, waving him off.
“I’m trying to,” he says, inches from me, and that’s when I realize he’s been taking steps too, except his are in my direction.
“Clearly not,” I tell him, pointing at his proximity.
The silence would make anyone think that there’re only two people out here. Him and me. No one dares to say anything else. We’ve become the show they’re all too interested in watching.
Kayden’s always the center of attention.
“Ari Cole, you’re being stupid. This is dangerous. Stop,” he tells me as he finally reaches me. He bends over and picks up my shirt and pants from the floor. “Here, let’s go. I’ll take you home. You’re drunk and about to do something really stupid.”
Stupid. That’s what he thinks of me. “I’m not drunk.”
“Yes, you are,” he replies.
I look up at him in challenge. “How would you know?” I ask.
“I know you,” he replies, his words uttered low enough that only I can hear.
“No you don’t,” I shout back.
“Yes I do. That’s why I know you’ll regret doing this in the morning if you do.”
Kayden doesn’t know me. “That’s not true,” I reply, facing away from him and toward the water again.
“Stop this,” he yells.
“No.”
“Why are you acting like a child?” He shouts, exasperated.
“Why are you acting like a parent?” I fire back.
“Because you clearly need one. I thought you were smart.”
I look back at him. “I am.”
“This is dumb.”
“You’re dumb,” I reply then turn away again, mostly because I want to smack myself for my weak comeback. That’s something elementary-school me would’ve replied with. High-school me should have better insults.