by S. J. Sylvis
Just as I’m brushing my hair and squeezing the life out of the brush handle, courtesy of that trip down memory lane, my mom peeks into my room. “Are you almost ready, sweetie?” I keep my expression neutral as I stare into the mirror at my long hair cascading past my shoulders. Today, I need that extra bit of security that my heavy hair gives me. I’m not afraid of the crowd. I’m more afraid of having a random panic attack at the first look of someone with a black hoodie on. I haven’t had any flashbacks or attacks since the beginning of college, thankfully, but you never know when your mind might want to play tricks on you. Sometimes it likes to sneak up and strike you at the worst of times.
“Yep, let me get my shoes.” I patter over to my closet and notice my mom has somehow made it into my room and is now sitting on my bed. I grab my white shoes out of my closet and sit down to start slipping them on. I glance up at her, and she is watching me with a wary expression. I can feel the dread sneak up my spine at every second that ticks by.
“So, Sadie. I heard something yesterday at my book club.” And there it is.
“What did you hear?” I continue to busy myself with tying my shoes, so I don’t have to meet her stare.
“I heard that Rowen is working at the country club pool.” I sling my head down low. I was hoping I could hide this little bit from my parents because I know they’ll only make a big deal out of it, and I guess it is kind of a big deal, considering. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
I cringe at the hurt in her voice. My mom and I… I wouldn’t consider us best friends, but we do have a strong mother-daughter relationship. I didn’t really go through a phase where I hated her; I’ve always loved and admired her.
“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you and Dad to make a big deal out of it.”
My mom hadn’t pushed me about how Rowen and I broke up a year ago. She never really asked any questions, probably afraid she’d break me all over again. She heard bits and pieces from Samantha and I’s fight, but that was all she really got. Heck, I still didn’t know why he broke up with me, if one can ever call it a breakup.
“Are you okay with working with him? I can try to find you a new job somewhere else, away from him.” Her voice holds a tension that I’ve never really heard from her before. And, to be honest, her words aren’t the first thing that have made me consider finding a new job. But, that would be me running from my problems and I don’t want to run away from my problems. “That’s unhealthy,” per my therapist’s words.
“I’m fine with working with him. We don’t really have time to talk. Lifeguarding is kind of full of solidarity.” She nods her head, suspiciously, as I stand up and adjust my jean shorts. “Really, Mom. I’m fine. It’s been a year. I’m over it.” Lie, lie, lie.
“Well, you know I’m here if you ever want to talk about him. Or anything. Okay?” She stands up and pulls me into a hug. It’s warm and comforting, and for a second, I just let myself fall into her softness.
“I know, Mom. Thanks.” I smile up at her and we make our way out of the bedroom and down the stairs, heading towards my favorite part of summer.
The festival is full of familiar faces. Mainly just the families that I remember seeing in the football stands on Friday nights and at random school activities. Little kids are running around with their ice cream cones melting on the black pavement, and there’s about a million different booths set up, all ranging in color. You have the bright yellow stand promoting its homemade lemonade, the white tented booth, displaying homemade jewelry, and so on. I’m sickened that I can’t help but glance around the booths, looking for the one that reads “Furniture,” but the sick feeling fades when I realize I don’t see Rowen’s family anywhere.
My gaze shifts to my parents walking ahead of me, side by side, hands clasped together. My mouth twitches upward and my heart grows tender at their touch. I’m lucky. My parents are the most loving parents that I’ve ever seen. They’re affectionate, and the way my dad looks at my mom is full of endearment. They’re a team, the two of them. Their relationship and bond is something I aspire to have some day… hopefully, if I can ever close the gaping hole in my chest.
My dad stops walking and turns back to look at me, playfully prodding, “Let’s go Sadie.” My eyebrows scrunch as I follow his gaze. I laugh, feeling my face relax. He’s staring at the inflatable red and blue water slide, smackdab in the middle of the town square. Every summer we’d go down it and race each other while my mom stood below, laughing and judging who won. I always won, and he’d always complain, “It’s not fair. You’re half my size.”
I place my hands on my hips. “But we forgot to wear our bathing suits this year.”
After the first couple of years, we finally started wearing our bathing suits under our clothes just in anticipation of the water slide. But I forgot all about it. I forgot, which causes guilt to build within my chest.
“Correction. You forgot yours.” I look down and my dad is pulling of his khaki shorts, broadcasting the navy swimming trunks underneath. I can’t help my grin and chuckle.
“Come on Sadie! We didn’t get to go last year.” He pouts a little as he pleads. I look back at the water slide and then back at him. His eyes have a little light lying within and he’s beaming just as brightly as the sun on top of our heads.
“Alright, let’s go!” I smile, allowing the giddiness to overtake my body.
When we reach the top, I take off my converse and socks and throw them down to my mom, who is standing in her spot. The same spot she always stands in. I peer over at my dad, and he’s smiling like a little kid in a candy store.
I ask, “Are you ready?” He nods at me as we take our positions.
I look down toward my mom’s brown hair and give her a slight nod. “Okay, guys,” she yells.
“One.”
“Two.”
“Three.”
The mere second that the word ‘three’ leaves her mouth, I’m flying down the slide, gasping as the ice-cold water hits my bare legs. When I land on the soft, wet mat, I realize I’m hysterically laughing. It feels so good to be laughing with my dad on this water slide. It’s like the last year didn’t even happen. It’s like everything is back to normal. We just needed to get over that awkward hump.
My dad stands up and shakes his hair, spraying water all over me, and grimaces. “How did you end up winning, again? I thought for sure I had you because you’re wearing jean shorts. Why didn’t they slow you down? This is so unfair!” I cackle.
“You can’t beat a champion, Dad.” We walk off, my dad’s wet arm draped over my shoulder. I feel light, and it’s such a distant feeling. Happiness and normality diffuse across my damp body and I never want to let this feeling go.
I watch the water pour down my body while wringing out my tank top and laughing at my dad’s complaints of me winning, when I hear a girly rendition of my name. I look over to my left and there stands Hannah Marie. My mouth opens a little as she encricles me in a hug.
“Sadie!” Hannah Marie quickly backs off, as if she is surprised at what she just did.
I smile at her and shyly tuck a few pieces of my hair behind my ear as she tries to rub off the wetness I inflicted on her. “Hi, Hannah. I… I was actually going to call you this week to see if you and Anna wanted to get together.” Her eyebrows shoot up in amazement and once again, guilt gnaws at me.
“Of course! We’ve missed you, Sadie.” She says, bubblier than before. “And you seriously look great. College was good to you.”
I smile widely at her, taking in her appearance. “You do too.” Hannah Marie hasn’t changed a bit. She’s still sporting her medium-length brown hair with a few subtle blonde highlights. Still the same small body frame, and she still wears the same thick, winged eyeliner.
“How have you been? Good?” she intones, and I’m hyper-aware that she’s asking if I’m back to normal again.
“I’ve been really good, Hannah. I--I wanted to say I’m sorry for disappearing last summer.” I don
’t allow myself to lower my head, although part of me wants to hide.
“Sadie.” She grabs my clenched hand. “Don’t you dare say sorry. I understand, and so does Anna. Isn’t that what friends are for?” I let out a long breath that I wasn’t aware I was holding and smile gently at her beaming face.
“Still have the same number?” she asks, returning the smile.
“Yep!”
“Great, I’ll talk to Anna and then we will pick a time for all of us to hang out! Sound good?” The gentle voice and smile disappear as her hyper personality resurfaces. At first, before we became friends, I was annoyed by all of her sudden shrieking outbursts in school. She was so obnoxious, but then I just grew to love it.
“Sure, I can’t wait.” I plaster on a smile and watch her run off towards one of the shopping booths.
I look over at my mom and dad and they’re grinning. I know exactly what they’re thinking—that I’m back. The real Sadie is back, and she’s staying.
Seven
I couldn’t help but be relieved that I didn’t see Rowen’s family at the festival. We’d all have to make small talk and pretend that it wasn’t the most painful conversation in the world. Rowen’s parents always acted like they liked me, but I wonder what they thought when Rowen and I suddenly stopped spending time together. Were they happy? Confused? Sad? I know my parents were confused and probably a little relieved. They despised how infatuated we were with each other. I would get sideway looks from them when I gushed about him. My dad especially hated our relationship. He was always blasting off about how Rowen would hurt me, and I defended Rowen each time. “You don’t know him like I do, Dad. He would never hurt me.” And he didn’t, not physically, that is. But emotionally… he did more than hurt me. He demolished me. He killed me, and now my dad was right each time he’d foreshadowed how Rowen would hurt me. Now, I feel senseless all those time I blindly defended him.
I decided to stop all the hoping and praying to God on my drives to the club that Rowen wouldn’t be there. Instead, I tried a different approach. I started hoping he was there, just so I could get over this undeniable fear of seeing him again. I left him in a vulnerable state the last time we spoke. I say it was a vulnerable state, but I actually highly doubt he felt that way. I was the one who had to pull my car over and calm my sobs before I could head home and pretend everything was fine. Not him.
Sure enough, when I pull up to the parking lot Rowen’s truck is parked in the front spot. He’s early today, and I remember how Sash told him he had to be there on time from now on. My mind skims over the knowledge that Rowen worked here last summer. Apparently, the attack didn’t affect him like it did me. I couldn’t leave my house for weeks, in fear that something bad would happen. He’s obviously a lot stronger than I am. I wonder if he even had to go to therapy? Probably not. That’s just me.
When I walk in to clock-in, Rowen is leaning against the farthest wall, talking to Sash with his arms crossed over his bare chest. I quickly glance away, not even wanting to go there. Even with just a simple glance in his direction, I can tell he is buffer than when we dated a year ago. He’s turned into a man, and then I think of my own body when I stared back at myself in the mirror this morning. Have I changed that much? If anything, I feel like I look more kid-like than before. Even with my long hair, I still feel juvenile.
After I hear the click from the clock-in machine, I hang my things in the employee area. Sash says hey and I glance back at him and give him a half-smile. I look over at Rowen and he’s staring directly at me. I don’t say hi to him, though; I just avert my gaze and walk to my lifeguarding stand where I’ll argue with myself for the next five hours for looking in his direction.
In the middle of my shift, still arguing with myself that I’ve looked in Rowen’s direction four times in the last two hours, I make the move to keep my eyes on a little boy who continues to argue with his mom about his floaties. I have to agree, he seems way too old to be wearing the annoyingly bright yellow Mickey Mouse floaties, but I guess if you can’t swim, you can’t swim. Morgan is directly in front of me on the other side of the pool, sporting her golden aviators, and then Rowen is to my right—which makes it a lot easier to avoid him.
Adjusting my body to shield myself from Rowen and focus more on the ever-busier pool, I watch a hairy dad throw his shrieking kid in deep end, his daughter’s little arms and legs doggy-paddling their way back over and that’s when I realize, I can’t seem to find Mickey Mouse boy. I see his mom, talking on her cellphone and her friend, sunbathing beside her in a hot pink bikini, but I don’t see the little brown-haired boy. I look around a little further and I spot the floaties on the side of the pool, but no little boy. My heart beats a little faster, thumping in my chest as I look over at the concessions, hoping he is there… but he isn’t. I stand up quickly and stare in the pool. He can touch in the shallow part of the pool by Rowen, but he’s not there, either. Where the hell is he? I look down in the deep end and see bubbles. My eyes grow wide, and I can hear Rowen distantly shouting my name and asking what’s wrong, but I can’t look his way. My eyes stay glued to the bubbling until next thing I know, I’m submerging myself in chlorinated water. I open my eyes underwater, welcoming the burning sensation and I grasp the sight of a blurry figure, frantically waving its arms back and forth. I’m over to him in seconds, not knowing that I could actually swim that fast. I grab ahold of his tiny body and shove us both towards the top.
It takes a few seconds to realize where I am, as I’m sprayed with water from a sputtering little boy. When we reach the side of the pool, I feel two sturdy hands grip my tiny biceps and I know instantly that it’s Rowen. When he gets us out of the water, I immediately start slapping the little boy’s bare back until his coughs start to die down. For a second, it feels like the world has stopped moving. It’s just me and the little boy, our hearts beating fast and our chests rising rapidly. It reminds me of Finger Lickin’ a year ago, my throat constricting in protest as flashbacks start to crowd my mind. My slick arms instantly break out in goosebumps as a chill sets forth within my body. I squeeze a little tighter onto the little body in my arms, and then I hear Rowen’s voice lulling my sudden state of panic. “Sadie, let go. His mom is here.” I shake my head and stare into a pair of large, frightened eyes. I instantly release my grip around the boy and in seconds he is in his mother’s arms, sobbing.
The mom’s cries are hysterical but between her sobs, she thanks me over and over again, like a broken record. I mumble a response but still still feel in a haze, like I’m in a completely different time and place.
“Whooooa. You literally just saved that kid’s life.” I look over and meet Hallie’s wowed expression.
I feel as if a silence breaks through the crowd, although it doesn’t really as Rowen mumbles, “That’s what she does, she saves lives… ” When I meet his face, I wish I hadn’t even looked in his direction. His expression sends a knife right to my gut. We are having a silent conversation, one that no one else knows about. No one knows the meaning behind his words. No one knows but us.
Morgan’s voice is booming, “Holy shit, she sure does! We need to give her some type of award or something, right, Sash?!”
“Why don’t we give Sadie some time to calm down. Everyone, get back to your stands.” I watch as all the feet around me disappear while the murmuring and rowdiness of the crowd still jabbers on.
“Are you okay?” He asks as he helps me to my feet, his judgment bouncing back and forth between the blinking of my eyes.
I shrug, “I’m fine, really. It wasn’t that big of a deal.”
“Yes, it was. Especially for you.” He gives me a knowing look and I suddenly feel very, very small.
Sash puts me in the concession stand for the rest of the night, to give me a “mental break” after I refused to go home. I can’t stand being treated like I’m about to shatter at any given moment. I’m fine, and not only does working in the concessions make me feel trapped, it doesn’t give me a who
le lot of distraction time.
Rowen’s voice is on repeat in my head: “That’s what she does, she saves people.” Is that what I do? Do I purposely risk my life for others? I don’t mean to. I just act. I didn’t even think about jumping into the pool and what would happen afterwards I just… did. Maybe I have this alternate personality that has a superhero complex. Maybe I want to be the one to save others. Maybe I’m just the self-sacrificing type.
“Are you sure you’re okay, Sadie? You can tell me… you know.” Sash has been asking me if I’m okay every single hour. He’s worse than my parents.
“Boss, I’m fine, for the one hundredth time. I swear; now just relax!” I laugh, as I answer him.
“Okay. Well, then, I’ll see you Wednesday, right? That’s your next day to work, I think.”
“Yeah, I’ll be here Wednesday.” I force a smile as I start to walk through the gate.
Wednesday is my 19th birthday, and I’m not even bothered that I have to spend it at the pool. It’s kind of nice being normal again.
“Sadie.” I stop right in my tracks as I hear Rowen’s demanding voice. I really wish he’d quit using my name.
I slowly look up and there he is, again. Propped right beside his rusty truck, waiting for me. I hope this isn’t a recurring habit, because it’s exhausting pretending that his very presence doesn’t bother me.
“Are you okay?”
I automatically scoff. “No, no, no.” I start shaking my head. “You don’t get to act like you care now, no.”
I’m totally rolling my eyes in my head, about to bust at the seams. That’s not fair! He acts concerned after I save a little boy from drowning, but when I jump a robber to save his life, and get beaten half to death… I get radio silence. The dots do not connect.