A Cold and Quiet Place

by Alison DeLuca

  Lily doesn’t answer. She holds out her phone, the email from Nolan on the screen.

  Overhead, the clouds race over the weak sun and a sudden spiteful wind spatters rain onto Lily’s already-damp hair. Erica’s mom is frozen at the open door. In her arms, Diamond growls. “I don’t know why you’re showing me this,” she begins.

  “Don’t.” Lily feels her lips tremble. It’s all too much, the practices and school and therapy and Tyler – and now this. “Just don’t, okay?”

  “Jesus.” Mrs. Winslow’s smooth forehead puckers. “Guess you can come in. We should talk.”

  “Why?” Fury makes Lily’s lungs burn as if the winter storm blew flames instead of gritty ice. “Why? Can you just explain? I’ve gone through hell, you have no idea, and it just really sucks. What you did. I accused Erica, see what I’m saying? Your daughter! You made me think my best friend hated me. And for no reason…”

  “No reason?” Mrs. Winslow’s voice rises to a screech. “You are the reason! Don’t you get it? The only reason Erica made it into Prescot is because you left. And you’re so perfect. Good grades, spot on the National Team, pretty face, perfect body. How could Erica ever compete?”

  Lily doesn’t know where to begin. “So you had to insult me? Bully me? Just to get Erica into the right school?”

  The woman’s shrug is elegant even with the cold rain on their skin. In the driveway, her dad waits behind tinted glass. Lily can almost sense his gaze. If Mrs. Winslow starts to yell or even gets violent he’ll burst out of the car in Lily’s defense. She’s secure in his support, but for this moment, she doesn’t need it.

  “I would have been so happy if Erica could have come with me. We could have gone to Prescot together,” Lily declares.

  She can’t bear to look at Mrs. Winslow’s face any longer. Lily steps back, nearly stumbles off the sandstone steps. The humiliation is the last straw after practice, her talk with Robert, the confrontation with Erica’s mom. She has to escape and pray Erica will still be her friend when this is all over.

  Just as she slides into the passenger seat, Mrs. Winslow shouts a few words. “Are you going to tell? Are you going to tell Erica what happened? I’ll say it’s all a big lie! She’ll never believe you!” The woman’s face is crimson from yelling so hard.

  Lily doesn’t bother to respond. She closes the door and buckles her seatbelt. Dad puts one arm on her seat back to back away from the luxurious house. In the doorway, the little dog twists in the woman’s arms, leaps onto the steps, and dashes after the car.

  In the rearview, Erica’s mother grows to a tiny dot and disappears. The wind buffets the SUV, and with a crash the rain begins at last.

  20

  Lily’s whole family attends the first big meet of the spring season, the Northeast High School Regionals. Her mom nudges Lily’s shoulder with hers and grins. “Feeling good?” she asks.

  “Yeah.” Lily’s new stroke has become second nature, part of the athlete’s vital muscle memory. As a result her swim times have slowly been getting faster and have once again dropped below the vital 24-second mark. Each day brings a new achievement, faster kicks and smoother hand entry.

  Vincent holds up the retro Instamatic camera he got for his birthday. “Smile.” Lily bares her teeth in an exaggerated grin, and he clicks the shutter. A tiny rectangle slides out, and he blows on it before handing it to her. She looks different in the ghost image as it emerges, a girl made of ink and film.

  This new girl isn’t happy, not yet, but she’s not tragic either. Lily stares at the photo of a person she thought was lost forever.

  A high, bright voice breaks into her thoughts. “Oh my gosh - it’s totally her!” Three girls in black and orange swim caps rush up the bleachers and apologize as the squeeze past spectators and other competitors. “I told you she’d be here.” Erica nearly trips over the last seat and lands in Lily’s lap. “Missed you so much!”

  Staci and Haddigan stand behind her. “Hey guys,” Lily says. The moment couldn’t be more awkward, and she feels her neck prickle with sweat.

  Her former teammates smile and say hello. Lily remembers how nice they were, always so sympathetic and willing to help. In the end, she was the one who drove them away. Haddigan and Staci will never be her close friends again thanks to Tyler.

  If she went to parties at school or even just hung out like a normal person he wouldn’t have been able to control the situation. She nearly trips on a step as realization crashes over her. He had to drive away James, of course, but also her girlfriends. No wonder he hated Erica so much and did everything he could to prove her guilty of those hate-texts.

  Lily still hasn’t told anyone what Erica’s mother did with all those emails and texts.

  Erica’s face is dimpled with her smile, and the Prescot team flanks her. To take her aside now and lay the whole thing on her shoulders would be a shitty thing to do, at least at the moment. Lily decides, not for the first time, she just has to wait.

  Haddigan fiddles with her usual braid and asks a few formal questions about Lily’s home team. It’s always going to be like this between them. The lost possibility of friendship with her and Staci makes Lily suck in a breath – after everything that’s happened, Lily regrets losing them the most.

  Erica makes it better by asking Lily to visit the Prescot team’s bleachers, jumping up and down on her toes with eagerness. Lily turns to her mother. “Is it okay?”

  Mom checks the heat sheet, crumpled in her left hand. “I guess. You have to swim soon, though.”

  “We’ll bring her right back.” Erica drapes an arm around Lily’s waist and tows her down to where the Prescot team huddles.

  There’s a tall boy by the steps, his back to Lily and the Prescot girls. He talks intently to Robert.

  Lily recognizes him right away.

  Tyler’s back from college on spring break, so he’s still in street clothes, jeans and a tight-fitting shirt. His shoulder-to-hip ratio is ridiculous, and for a moment she feels a pang of pure lust.

  He waves one hand in the air, making his biceps bunch and smooth muscles slide under the brown skin revealed by his rolled-up sleeve. Apparently Tyler’s trying to explain something, and it looks like Robert wants no part of it as he turns back to the male members of Prescot’s swim team.

  Lily is aware of damp concrete under her feet, the lines of antlike swimmers pacing each other in the pool, the muted and relentless overhead lights. In her ear, Staci murmurs how sorry she is, how she had no idea Tyler was going to show up.

  “No,” Lily interrupts. “It’s okay.” Because this is just another hurdle, one of those barriers she has to move beyond before she can continue.

  Continue to swim, to go to school, to simply be.

  His eyes catch hers, and triumph swims in those beautiful depths. Tyler’s lips part, but Lily has learned enough to be on the offense. “Hi.” She marvels at her own casual tone.

  Before he can respond, there’s a low voice in her ear. “Hey,” James says. “Lily? Is that you?”

  James. He’s there at the meet – she has no idea why – and he’s just saved her again.

  She feels his strong arms pull her close. “I missed you,” Lily whispers into his neck. “You just don’t know.”

  “Missed you too,” he replies.

  “We all did.” Staci joins them on the step. James mumbles an apology and lets go of Lily. “It’s okay,” Staci adds, smiling up into his face. “You two were friends before we happened.”

  “Wait.” Lily can feel Tyler’s eyes on her, but suddenly he doesn’t matter. “You two are together?”

  “Oh, yeah.” James grins and rubs his neck. “Yeah, we are.”

  Staci wraps her arms around his waist. “I should have told you right away. Sorry.”

  Stepping back, Lily realizes she’s happy for both of them. Hard working and supportive – they’re perfect together.

  “Guess you just lost your other boyfriend.” The words are typical of Tyler, as immature
and hurtful as always. Coach Robert crosses his arms and tells Tyler to back off, but naturally the guy doesn’t listen. “Right?” he whispers, just loud enough so only she can hear it. “You’re a loser again. That sucks.” He punctuates it with a smile.

  Lily feels a horrified kind of sympathy for him. It’s an alien emotion leached from her bones, from her life with a wonderful family. After all, in the end she gets to walk away from him and concentrate on her brother, her parents, and her friends. She’ll tell Staci how awesome her news is about James and how much Lily has missed Prescot.

  However, Tyler can never leave the dark pool in his mind. He’ll continue to exist inside the trap that makes him hurt other people over and over again until they are scarred the same way he is.

  She could try to explain to him how his wounds stay inside her, never on her skin, always hidden beneath her flesh. But he’d twist the conversation like a pretzel, and endless Moebius strip of accusation and insults. “You’re not sorry, you’re salty,” he’d reply. “Already got a girlfriend. What do you got? I’ll tell you what you got. You got nothing. Maybe another medal you can hang up at the school, not even in your house. Later, loser.”

  In the end, Lily realizes there’s nothing to say to Tyler. In her mind, she’s dealt with everything he threw at her, and she survived. Even now she thinks he’s the best-looking guy she’s ever met, but she’s still okay.

  He pauses on the steps, a slight furrow on his brow. Maybe Tyler waits for an explanation or for her to beg him to take her back. He’s probably certain he’s won yet again, as if life is nothing more than an endless competition.

  Lily won’t get an explanation either, not from him. In any case, it doesn’t matter. Despite Tyler’s attempts to separate her from the world, Lily is the winner.

  Staci tugs her onto the bench and holds up her phone. “Picture!” Several other girls drape themselves over Lily’s shoulder and smile up into the camera. Lily looks into Staci’s phone, sees the freedom in her own face.

  By the time her eyes refocus from the flash, Tyler is gone.

  His presence is no longer a weight. Lily can concentrate on her warm-up and events. There’s no need to flutter around him, say he’s going to do great.

  No matter how hard she worked to be Tyler’s girlfriend and support him, it would never be enough. It’s a race no one can win.

  Maybe he’s watching her as he returns to the bleachers. And maybe Bree or his new girlfriend is with him. She sits and watches while he moves like a shark through the sea of girls.

  His new girlfriend, if she exists, is ready to praise him and be beautiful, all for him.

  The thought doesn’t make Lily feel jealous. No, it’s just the opposite. She wants to go into the crowd and find the girl Tyler’s dating. Lily wants to tell her to leave him, run far away, and never look back.

  And this is the saddest part. There’ll be new girls in Tyler’s life, and none of them will listen to the warnings until it’s too late.

  Lily can only continue her own story and reach out to help other victims of people like Tyler. If she races fast enough and studies hard enough, one day she’ll reach the heights and be able to help those victims, the ones with hidden scars on their hearts.

  She feels this new resolution shoot through her as she hugs Erica one last time.

  ◆◆◆

  It’s time for Lily’s last event. She joins the other swimmers in her heat, girls from all over the Northeast. They move in a loose group near the starting blocks, roll their shoulders in one last attempt to loosen up. The usual butterflies flutter in her gut, more from the desire to win than true nerves. She’s a fine instrument, a miracle of determination and survival.

  The block is rough under her feet. Her skin is smooth, shaved in the hotel room to maximize her taper. Lily bends her head, arms pointed at the water. Her dive comes after the starter’s beep in perfect timing.

  Choppy water pulls her in and under. God, it feels good.

  And for one single moment, under the water, before her body kicks into race mode, she’s in a cold and quiet place. It belongs to no one except her, and fierce joy races through her blood.

  She owns this moment, this event, this mind, this body.

  Cutting through the sparkly surface of the water, Lily races herself into the future.

  END

  Afterword

  To my readers: if you have suffered abuse, you can reach out to the abuse hotline at thehotline.org. You can also call them at 1-800-799-SAFE (7233).

  loveisrespect.org is a site geared specifically to teens.

  (Please be careful using these resources. Find a neutral computer or phone that can’t be tracked by your abuser. The organizations have guidelines to keep your browser history clean from searches or links to these help sites.)

  Abuse is insidious, often robbing victims of their self-worth and identity. If you feel that you are at fault or were the cause of your abuse, please know that you are completely innocent. You can get more help and advice from NAMI, a mental-health advocacy group available at nami.org.

  In order to write A Cold and Quiet Place, I had to thoroughly research the world of competitive swimming. Several athletes and their families helped by inviting me to meets, practices, and to their schools. To those incredible young swimmers, thank you.

  I also researched the dark issue of emotional abuse. The victims who gave me insight into their painful histories are true heroes, and without their bravery this book would not exist.

  Lisa Daly, the artist who formatted this print version, donated her time to make A Cold and Quiet Place happen. Therefore, I’m sending her usual fee to the National Abuse Hotline. Lisa, thank you for your beautiful art and generosity.

  When I first contemplated writing this book, I met a father whose daughter had gone through prolonged and horrifying emotional abuse. “If I can just save one girl,” he told me, “just one girl. That’s all I want.”

  Perhaps you are that girl.