by Amber Garza
She takes one last bite of her yogurt and then stands up. “Maybe I’m a person who doesn’t like the beach. Does that really seem so crazy? Just ‘cause you love it doesn’t mean everyone does.” After flashing me an incredulous look, she walks to the nearest trash bin to dump her empty container.
I take another heaping bite of my own dessert while mulling over her words. Is it possible that the only reason she doesn’t like the beach is because she doesn’t know how to swim? Maybe nothing bad happened to her and she simply doesn’t like the beach. If so, I may have a chance of changing her mind. When she returns, I snatch her hand in mine. “Listen, I’ve been thinking about something.”
“This sounds scary.” Even though there is a teasing lilt in her voice, I can tell she’s a little wary.
“The other day while I was at work I saw this man teaching his daughter to swim. It reminded me of when my dad taught me to swim, so I watched for awhile. But then a thought occurred to me. Why don’t you let me teach you to swim?”
Harper yanks her hand back as if it’s on fire. “No. Absolutely not.”
I recoil from her reaction, stunned by it. “I don’t understand. I won’t let anything happen to you. And if you’re worried about people seeing, we can do it early in the morning when hardly anyone is at the beach.”
“I don’t want to swim, Tag.” She hops up off the bench, crossing her arms over her chest. “What don’t you get about that?”
“But, Harper.” Leaving my half eaten yogurt on the bench I stand up, reaching for her.
She ducks away from me and starts walking swiftly.
I jog to keep up. “You should know how to swim even just for safety. I mean, what happens if you’re ever on a boat or something? You need to at least know how to save yourself from drowning.”
“I’m twenty-one. If I haven’t drowned yet, I probably won’t.” She keeps walking, anger practically radiating off of her in waves.
“Why does this make you so mad? I don’t get it.” I tug at her arm.
She whirls to face me. “I don’t think this is going to work out.”
“What isn’t going to work out?”
“Us. You and me.” She points between us to drive home the point.
I feel it like a dagger slicing into my heart. “Because I want to teach you to swim?”
“No, it’s because we’re too different. Being a lifeguard isn’t only your job. It means something to you. Tag, you love the water and the beach. It’s a part of you, but I can never be a part of it.”
“I wish you’d tell me why,” I say gently.
“I can’t. I’m sorry.” She slips past me.
“I don’t want things to end like this.” I follow her.
“Endings always suck,” she says. “Things don’t always work out like we’d hoped. That’s life.”
As she walks away her words replay over and over in my mind. It makes me wonder how someone so fun and lively could say something so dark and hopeless. Clearly Harper is carrying some deep hurt around inside. If only she’d let me in. I want to run after her again, but I don’t.
Her behavior tonight reminded me of Ginny, irrational and angry. I can’t do that again. Maybe this is for the best. I know I was starting to fall for her, and after the way my last relationship ended that may not be the best thing for either of us.
7
HARPER
“YOU SERIOUSLY BROKE up with him because he wanted to teach you to swim?” Kate takes a swig of her beer, and then slams it back down on the mahogany bar. Rock music plays softy in the background, but chattering takes precedence. Girls lean over the bar, flirting with the bartender. A group of guys talk loudly in a booth in the corner, and a few couples drink at little round tables, their heads bent close together.
I swivel on the barstool¸ and reach for my lemon drop. Bringing it to my lips, I lick the sugar off of the rim. The sweetness lingers on my tongue. “It wasn’t only that. He’s so pushy about it. He loves to swim, and I could tell he wouldn’t be happy with a girl who won’t go swimming.”
“Then let him teach you. Problem solved.”
“No, I don’t want to swim. You, of all people, should understand that.”
“Did you at least tell him why?” Kate looks at me pointedly.
I hide behind my martini glass.
“Didn’t think so,” she says, a stern look on her face.
“Oh, just drink your beer,” I say sullenly, taking another sip of my drink.
“I don’t get it. You finally meet a guy you really like, and you’re gonna let him walk out of your life over something silly like this.”
“Silly?” I set my drink down angrily. “This is not silly.”
Kate leans in close. “Sweetie, you know I love you. And I totally understand why you’re afraid to swim.”
I grit my teeth. “Not afraid to. I don’t want to.”
“Honey, you’re afraid to. And I get it. I would be too if I were you.” She places a hand over mine. “But you’ve got to let this go. It happened so many years ago and it’s ruining your life. At this point it is kind of silly.”
“I’m glad you finally told me how you really feel.” I shove off the barstool and stand unsteadily on my feet. Then I reach for my purse.
“Harper.” Kate grabs my arm. “Don’t leave. C’mon.” She tugs on me. “I’m sorry, okay? Please stay.”
I think about leaving, but the truth is Kate’s my only friend. Now that I broke up with Tag, she’s pretty much the only person in my life other than my parents. So it’s not like I have many other options. Either I stay here with her drowning my sorrows in lemon drops, or I go home and down a bottle of wine in my room. Decision made, I hop back up on the barstool and order another drink.
“That’s more like it.” Kate slaps her hand on the counter.
“I did really like him though,” I say softly. “We had a lot of fun together. And he was the best kisser.”
“Oooh, give me all the details!” Kate rests her elbows on the bar, and tilts toward me.
“A lady doesn’t kiss and tell,” I joke. The bartender brings me my drink, and I lift it from the bar.
“You can’t tease me like that. When did he kiss you?”
“The first time was on our hike.” The memory floods my mind, giving me the chills. It was the most amazing kiss I’ve ever had. The thought of never kissing Tag again causes my insides to twist. Feeling sick, I put my drink down. A little spills on my wrist, and I wipe it off with a nearby napkin.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I shake my head. “I guess I kind of miss him, that’s all.”
“I am going to kick your ass if you don’t call him again.” Kate shoves my phone at me.
I bat it away. “I’m not calling him.”
“You obviously still really like him. You can’t walk away from him.”
“I don’t have a choice.” I stare into my drink, watching the lemon float on the surface.
“That’s where you’re wrong, Harper. You always have a choice.”
“Not always,” I reply, thinking about how I never had a choice when it was time to say goodbye to Heather.
I stumble into the house late at night, grateful I didn’t drive. Calling a cab isn’t something I do often, but I had no choice tonight. I fumble with the door to close it and then sway to the side for a moment. The room spins, and I squint until it comes back into focus. I could kill Kate for letting me drink so much. Usually I know my limit and I stick to it. I guess I’m more upset about Tag than I care to admit.
“Harper?” Mom’s voice stops me cold.
Shit. I didn’t think she’d still be up. I can’t let her see me like this.
I smooth down my hair with my fingers and lick my lips. A little sugar lands on my tongue. Do I seriously have sugar on my lips? For some reason I find this hysterically funny and burst into a fit of uncontrollable giggles.
“You okay, Harper?” Mom calls from the family room.
/> I sober up, clamping my mouth shut. “Um…yeah, fine. Just got home and I’m um, gonna go to bed.” Knowing I can’t hide in the entryway all night, I step out into the family room where Mom sits on the couch, a magazine spread open in her lap. She’s wearing a pair of soft fleece pajamas and her hair is pulled back in a bun, her face scrubbed clean. The antique, gold edged lamp on the end table is the only light in the room, and it casts a soft glow on the light green walls. I’m so grateful that Dad isn’t awake. He’d be livid with me. And I’m sure he’d take the opportunity to tell me how Heather would never do something like this. I seriously need to move out.
“You’re home late.” It’s not accusatory, just a statement.
“Yeah.” A hiccup leaps from my throat, surprising us both.
“Have you been drinking?” Mom’s eyebrows raise.
“No…yeah…kind of…not much. Okay, a lot.” I plop down next to Mom on the couch, staring at my hands like a scolded child. The brown leather couch is cold against my bare legs.
Mom laughs. “Well, you are twenty-one. I figured it would happen at some point.”
“You’re not mad?” I lift my eyes to hers.
“You didn’t drive home, did you?”
“No, I rode with Kate to the bar and then got a cab home.”
“Then no. I’m not mad.” Mom glances down at her magazine.
“What are you doing up so late?” I ask her, crossing one leg over the other.
“Couldn’t sleep. Damn insomnia. Gets worse every year.”
I nod, knowing Mom does struggle with that.
“So, you were with Kate tonight? Not Tag?” She nudges me playfully in the side.
My mood sours, my drunken stupor wearing off a bit at the mention of Tag’s name. “Tag and I aren’t really seeing each other anymore.”
“You’re not?” Mom’s eyes crinkle in concern. “But you seemed to like him so much, and he was such a nice young man. Good looking too.” Mom grins in a way that makes my stomach roll.
“You date him then.”
She giggles. “I would if I thought I could get away with it.”
I gasp.
“I’m kidding. You know I love your dad.” Mom flashes me an exasperated look. “So, what happened?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” I wave away her words.
“No, you want to drown your sorrows in alcohol.”
“That’s not what I was doing,” I respond, slurring my words. “Okay, maybe a little.”
“It’s okay to be sad about it.”
“I’m not sad. I’m the one who broke things off with him.” The room starts its horrid spinning again, and I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I should’ve known better than to date a lifeguard.”
Mom turns to me pursing her lips, and I wish I hadn’t blurted that out. “Harper, did your breakup have anything to do with the fact that you refuse to swim?”
“I don’t refuse to swim. I can’t swim. Why doesn’t anyone get that?”
“C’mon, tell me what happened.” Mom drops her magazine on the coffee table, tucks her legs up under her body and faces me.
“He wanted to teach me to swim, and I don’t want to learn.” I cross my arms over my chest defiantly, as if the simple act will give my statement more validity.
“You broke it off with him because of your fear of swimming?” The way she says it makes it sound so stupid.
I shrink back from her words. “No, that wasn’t the reason. It’s because we’re too different.”
“Because he likes the beach and you don’t?”
“That’s not all. We have other differences.”
“Like what?” Mom shoots me a challenging look.
I squirm on the couch, the rough fabric chafing my bare thighs. “I don’t know. Why are you interrogating me?”
“Because I’m your mom and I want you to be happy. And I can tell that this boy made you happy. It’s time to finally let what happened with your sister go.”
I stand up, so done with this conversation. But Mom grabs my hand before I can leave.
“It’s not all your fault. I take the blame too. Your dad and I should’ve forced you to go back out there. We should have made you face your fear. I guess we were all holding on to Heather in our own way. But I realize now that it’s time for our family to move on. What happened was terrible, but it was many years ago. And Heather wouldn’t want us to be stuck back there on that awful day. She’d want us to live and enjoy our lives.”
“Mom, you did try to make me swim, remember? It was horrible, and I fought you every step of the way. I don’t want to go back in the water. It’s too painful.”
“Think about it, okay? Don’t let what happened with Heather ruin your chance at happiness.”
I’m glad that Mom is finally wanting to move on. In fact, I’ve been praying for this day for years. But it all seems a little too late. “Okay. I’ll think about it,” I say to appease her. But as I walk up the stairs, I know my mind is already made up. There’s no way I can do it.
8
TAG
“MAN, YOU LOOK like you lost your best friend,” Clint says as I stand in front of my locker after our morning shift meeting. “But I know that’s not true, ‘cause I’m right here.”
I sip coffee out of my thermos and lift an eyebrow. Clint being my best friend is news to me, but I guess it sort of makes sense that he thinks so. We do see each other almost every day, and we hang out sometimes. Truthfully I don’t have many friends, so he’d probably be my closest one. The thought makes me realize how sad my life really is. I guess taking care of my mom the past three years has really put a damper on my social life. The revelation makes me miss Harper even more. She was my one bright spot, and now she’s gone. And what makes it even worse is that I don’t really understand what I did wrong. I thought I was offering to help her. I didn’t expect her to get so bent out of shape. Frankly, I should be happy she’s out of my life after how irrational she got with me the other night. So what the hell is wrong with me that I still want her?
“Girl trouble, you know,” I say to Clint.
“Yeah, I do. Girls are nothin’ but trouble.” He laughs like it’s the funniest joke in the world.
I force a light chuckle in an effort to go along with the conversation.
“Hey, a group of us are going out tonight. Why don’t you come with us?”
“I don’t know.” I hang my whistle around my neck.
“Why not? You got something better going on?” Clint leans against the locker next to mine.
“No, I guess not.”
“Then come on. It’ll be fun. We’re gonna check out that new bar downtown.”
I shrug. “Alright. I guess that beats a night sitting at home.”
“That’s the spirit.” Clint slaps me on the back. “It’s gonna be a blast, man. I bet we’ll even meet some chicks. Chicks love lifeguards.”
I smile and nod, but inside my stomach is churning. Meeting a girl is the last thing on my mind. Even though Harper and I aren’t seeing each other anymore, I still can’t see myself hooking up with a random stranger tonight. It would only make her absence seem even more real. And I would be using the girl to dull the pain or something, and that’s never been my style.
“I’ll see ya around.” Clint walks off.
I slam my locker shut and then head out to my zone for the day. As I jog through the sand, the sun is already warm. I know it’s going to reach triple digits today and that means a crowded beach. Already there are more people here than usual this early in the morning. As I hop up on my chair, I watch a girl jog past in little shorts and tank top, her ponytail swinging like a pendulum behind her head. There aren’t many people in the water. Mostly just a few scattered across the beach, lying on brightly colored towels. But I know in a few hours the water will be filled with beachgoers. I take another sip of my coffee and gear up.
As predicted, the beach is crazy busy by noon. The sun is so hot, I use my umbrella t
o shield myself from its powerful rays. A group of teenagers play volleyball to the right of me, while a large family shares a picnic to my left. Out in the water, children swim with their parents, and teens body surf on the large foamy waves.
Looking through my binoculars I scan further out in the water where people surf, and even further I catch some boats in the distance. A few people swim near some large boulders. I scan the heads bobbing in the waves, but everything seems fine. No accidents or emergencies at the moment. Maybe I’ll get lucky and have a peaceful day.
When I lower the binoculars, my breath hitches in my throat. A blond girl walks toward me, and for one second I think its Harper. Then on closer inspection my heart plummets. I should’ve known she wouldn’t come here. She made her position very clear the night she ended things. A part of me still holds out hope that she’ll miss me and change her mind, but I know that’s wishful thinking. There has to be a reason she feels so strongly about not swimming. People don’t get that worked up over things like that unless they matter. I want to help her so badly. When I’m with her I want to erase everything bad that’s ever happened to her. I want to take away that darkness in her eyes and replace it with perpetual light. I want to kiss away every hurt, every sorrow. She’s so headstrong and stubborn, but also vulnerable and innocent at the same time. At times when we were together she seemed so raw and open. In those moments I was drawn to her like never before. If only I could have kept her that way.
But no, I had to push her, to drive her away. I mentally slap my forehead for being such a dick. I never should have pressured her about learning to swim. The truth is I would be okay with her never coming to the beach. Of course I wouldn’t be happy about it. The beach is one of my favorite places, and I’d love to share it with her. But I would let that go if it meant I got to be with her. The only reason I offered to teach her to swim was because I wanted to help her. But clearly I didn’t help things. I messed them up.
I think about calling her up, apologizing, and telling her that she doesn’t ever have to go to the beach if she doesn’t want to. But then I remember how cold she was when she walked away. Her last statement to me was so final. I’m not sure she’d want to hear from me again. And I don’t think I could handle the rejection if she didn’t.