by Amber Garza
A distant scream catches my attention, drawing me out of my internal thoughts. I bring the binoculars up to my face and stare through them. I scan the water, trying to locate where the scream came from. I hear another one, and hone in on it. A girl is bobbing far out in the waves near a large boulder that juts out into the water. She throws an arm up, but a wave crashes over her taking her down. A few other girls and one boy start screaming too and reaching for her. Heart slamming into my chest, I drop the binoculars and jump down from my chair. In one swift movement, I grab my buoy and start sprinting toward the water. I lift the whistle to my mouth and blow hard in an attempt to get Clint’s attention. I can see him a little ways down the beach. His head snaps up, and he catches my eye. I point to where the girl and her friends are swimming. I don’t bother waiting for him. I hit the water and keep running. Cold liquid covers my feet and then swims around my calves. I weave through other swimmers while keeping my eyes targeted on the girl and her friends. I haven’t seen her come up for air, and my chest tightens.
Water is up to my chest now so I dive in, keeping the buoy in my hand. I swim fast like I’m trained to do. I see Clint out of the corner of my eye. He’s in the water too, nearing the girl. This gives me some comfort. I swim as fast as I can, pushing and pulling with my arms against the waves and kicking with my legs. As I near the group, the voices are more frantic. When my head bobs up, I catch the eye of a teenage boy.
“Where is she?” I ask.
“I lost her in the waves.” His lips tremble, terror evident on his face.
I nod and dive under. Salt stings my eyes but I search anyway and eventually spot the bright pink of her bathing suit, the golden color of her hair. I swim forward swiftly, grabbing her from under the arms. With all my strength I carry her to the surface. Clint is almost to us. The girl is unresponsive but I can feel a pulse as I hold her wrist. She’s going to be fine as soon as I get her out of the water. I pull out the buoy to set her on it. A wave comes up over the top of me, startling me. I don’t have the best grip on the buoy and it starts to float away. When I reach for it, the wave hits me and I go under. My grip on the girl tightens.
“Tag!” I hear Clint holler from the surface.
I struggle to swim back up, but another wave takes me down. My lungs burn. I have to get the girl to the top, so I use all my strength to shove her upward. Clint’s hands reach for her and I see them grip around her waist. I’m grateful when he pulls her up. Knowing I need to get up too, I use all my strength to push against the current. As my body surges forward, something hard slams against my head. Dizziness overtakes me, and then I black out.
9
HARPER
PEOPLE ALWAYS TALK about bad news coming in the form of a phone call. Not me. My bad news didn’t need to be phoned in. I was there when Heather died. I saw the whole thing with my own two eyes. It’s a memory I can never escape from. It’s a memory that will be etched in my brain until the day I die.
But now I know what it feels like to receive that call.
I race to my car with the words from the caller ringing through my ears. There’s been an accident. A drowning. It’s like my worst fear coming to life all over again. My hands tremble so violently I can hardly get my keys in the ignition. I take a deep breath, my heart fluttering like a caged bird is inside flapping its wings against my rib cage. After composing myself enough to get the car started, I head down the street toward the hospital.
By the time I arrive I realize that I have no idea how I got here. I was so out of it when I drove I wasn’t paying attention. Freaky. The sun is too hot and my shirt sticks to my skin as I race through the parking lot toward the hospital doors. Memories of the last time I was here crash into me, and I buckle under the weight of them. Images of Heather being wheeled inside, of her with tubes everywhere, of the staff trying and failing to revive her fill my mind. I hold onto the building and breathe deeply until the panic subsides.
“Miss, are you okay?” An old woman in a flowery dress, her gray hair piled high on her head stops in front of me.
I nod. “Yes. Fine.” After swallowing hard, I force myself to walk forward. Even though I feel like I’m trudging through mud, I do finally make it inside. I head to the desk and ask for Tag’s room. After she tells me, I hurry to elevators. The sterile scent of the hospital lingers in my nose, turning my stomach. I step off the elevator and fly down the hall, my sandals slipping on the slick floor. When I reach his door, I stop unsure if I can go any further. I struggle to breathe evenly, and lean against the wall for support. Gathering up all my courage, I take a tentative step forward. He’s in a bed like the one Heather was in. My heart shatters at the sight.
I haven’t known him very long, but it still kills me to see him like this. Even though I broke things off the other night, I was really starting to care about him. I felt a connection to him unlike anything I’ve felt with someone before. If our relationship had continued, I know it would’ve turned into something epic, something extraordinary. His chest moves up and down to indicate that he’s breathing, and relief washes over me at the sight. That’s one thing that differs from when Heather was here. I never saw her breathe like that. She was so still, like one of my dolls. Even at six years old I knew people weren’t still like that. It was how I knew she was gone before they even told us.
Slowly, I move forward until I’m next to the bed. I stare at him helpless. His head is bandaged crudely, but other than that he looks exactly like the last time I saw him. My gaze lands on his full lips, and I remember what they felt like against mine. I remember how gently he kissed me, how he took his time like I was his last meal on earth. Honestly everything about our relationship felt surreal and magical.
Now he’s hurt. In fact, he almost drowned, and the last thing I said to him was some jaded thing about how endings always suck. What if he had died? I would have to live with the guilt of that statement the rest of my life. Heather and I had been fighting right before she died as well. The last thing I said to her was call her names. I was angry, and I lashed out. I’ve wished for years that I could have one more conversation with her. One last time to tell her how much she meant to me. But life never gave us a second chance.
At least not with Heather.
But it seems that this time I may have been given one. And I’m not going to squander it.
My lips begin to quiver and my body shakes. I can’t believe he almost drowned. The ocean hates me, I’m certain of it. It wants to take everyone from me. This is exactly the reason why I don’t step foot in it.
There are blood stains on the bandage on Tag’s head, and it causes my insides to coil into tiny knots. Bile rises in my throat. Tag must’ve been so scared when the ocean tried to kill him. I know exactly how that feels. To have the waves pounding over you, to feel the burning of your lungs when you can’t breathe. I remember that helpless feeling when no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t reach the surface, the pull of the water overpowering me.
A sob leaps from my throat. “Oh, Tag,” I speak into the silent room. “You can’t go like this. You can’t leave me the same way Heather did. It’s too cruel. I can’t lose anyone else to the ocean.”
Tag’s eyelids slowly open. My body stiffens. I’m not sure how he’ll react to seeing me here. It’s not like he asked them to call me. Holding my breath, I wait for him to see me. His gaze flickers around the room and then finally rests on my face I don’t dare move a muscle. I stay completely still.
His eyes return to mine and a slow smile creeps over his face. “Hey.” His voice is quiet and scratchy. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
I nod, my gaze lowering. “I know.”
“I’m not complaining though,” he says. “Just surprised. How did you know I was here?”
“Your shift manager called. I guess I was the most recent caller in your phone log.” It was so weird when his boss called me. Tag and I hadn’t talked much about his friends or previous relationships. Mostly he only mentioned hi
s mom to me. But as I stand here now, I wonder why I was the last number in his phone. Was I really the last person to call him? Is it possible that his life is even emptier than mine?
“Ah. That makes sense.” Then his expression grows serious. “Did he call my mom?”
I shake my head. “I’m not sure. Do you want me to find out?”
“No. It’s fine. I’ll find out later.”
“I can call her if you want.” I reach into the purse on my shoulder, swirling my hand around in an effort to locate my cell. “Tell me the number.”
“No,” he says firmly. “Please don’t call her.”
“Okay.” I’m perplexed by his reaction. Why wouldn’t he want his mom to know if he was in the hospital?
“Who’s Heather?” His words catch me off guard, and I feel the walls closing in around me.
“What?”
“You were saying something a few minutes ago about losing me like you lost Heather.”
“I didn’t know you heard that,” I say.
“Who is she?” He presses.
I open my mouth, when a nurse bustles into the room. “I need to check your vitals, sugar,” she says to Tag.
I move away from the bed and let her check him out. Once she’s done she throws me a wink. “He’s all yours.”
“Thank you.” As she slips out of the room I move back to Tag’s bed, and stand beside it. “Are you really okay?”
He nods. “I’ve had better days.”
“When your boss called he said you almost drowned,” I tell him. “I was scared to death.”
“Scared of losing me, huh?” He raises an eyebrow. “I’m surprised. The last time I saw you, you seemed pretty adamant that you never wanted to see me again.”
My heart sinks. “I’m sorry. I know I was so awful to you. I was afraid, I guess.”
“Of what?” he asks in a gentle tone. His hand reaches up to me, touching my cheek.
I lean into it, sighing. “This.”
“What’s this?”
Emotion rises up in me. “Being close to someone. So close that it would hurt me if something happened to them. I can’t go through that again.”
“Harper, tell me what hurt you so bad.”
His eyes lock with mine, and I see nothing but pure sincerity in them. And that’s when I know that I’ll tell him. I may not know Tag very well, but I do trust him. Maybe even more than anyone else in my life right now. Slowly I open my mouth, starting at the beginning. “I used to have an identical twin sister. Her name was Heather. We were so close. Mom said we were each other’s shadows. You couldn’t have one without the other. She even used to dress us alike. No one could tell us apart.” I pause, the memory painful. “When we were six years old our parents took us to the beach. We didn’t really know how to swim very well, but we could play in the shallow part by ourselves. Mom and Dad were up on the beach reading books. Heather and I were splashing around in the waves.” I close my eyes for a minute to ward off the tears. It’s always hard for me to share this story out loud. The events are hard enough to think about in my own mind, let alone verbalize them.
“It’s okay,” Tag says, his hand finding mine. “Take your time.”
“Heather was always the risk taker. I was the more careful one. And that day she wanted to go further into the water. I told her no and she got mad at me. We ended up getting into a fight. I called her stupid, and she called me a chicken. She even flapped her arms and did the whole bock-bock thing at me.”
I stop, knowing I can’t continue. This part of the story I’ve never shared with anyone, and I’m definitely not going to tell Tag. I’ve already shown him my evil side. There’s no reason to fuel that fire. I fumble to find the right words, careful to only tell vague details. “A wave crashed over Heather and she went under. When she didn’t come back up, I went after her, but then another wave came.” I close my eyes, the awful memory so fresh I find it hard to draw breath for a minute.
“It’s alright. You’re fine now,” Tag speaks in a soothing tone. He snatches up my hand, and rubs his thumb over my palm.
I breathe deeply and nod. “Then I went under too. I thought for sure I was drowning. I couldn’t fight the current. Heather reached for me. At one point I had a hold of her hand, but then another wave came and it slipped out of my grasp. The next thing I remember is my dad pulling me from the water. A lifeguard was there by this point and eventually he pulled out Heather too, but she wasn’t breathing. An ambulance came and the paramedics worked on her. They got her heart going and brought her to the hospital, but it was too late. She’d been under too long. She was brain dead.”
“Oh, Harper,” Tag says the phrase like an exhale. “I’m so sorry.”
“And that’s why I don’t swim. I never wanted to go in the water again. At first my parents tried to make me, but eventually they gave up.” I lift my gaze to Tag’s. “That’s why I was so upset when your boss called me about you. I thought I would lose you to the sea as well.”
He squeezes my hand. “Nah. I’m not going anywhere.”
I smile. “Promise?”
“As long as you promise not to walk away from me like you did the other night.”
“Okay. I won’t.” He rewards me with the most amazing smile. “So, what happened to you today?”
“I was actually trying to save a girl from drowning.” His words crash over me. “She was near a large boulder and a wave pummeled me. Luckily Clint, one of the other lifeguards, came to help. He got the girl, but then my head must’ve hit the boulder.”
“Thank God the other lifeguard was there.”
“No kidding. I was so worried I wasn’t going to be able to get the girl out of the water in time. Do you know if she’s okay?”
My heart melts at his words. He’s not grateful to his friend for saving him. He’s thankful that the lifeguard helped him save the girl. Tag really is the most selfless person I’ve ever met. “They didn’t say, but I can find out.”
“Would you? I really want to make sure she’s alright.”
“Of course.” I stand up. “Tag, I’m really glad that you’re a lifeguard.”
“You are?” He looks stunned by my admission. Not that I blame him after the story I shared, and the crazy way I acted at the beach.
“Yeah. I’m glad that you’re out there rescuing girls so they don’t succumb to the same fate as my sister. Maybe if the lifeguard on duty the day Heather died had been as compassionate as you she would’ve made it.” I pause, recalling. “To my knowledge that lifeguard never checked to find out what happened with her.”
Sadness passes over his eyes. “I’m really sorry, Harper.”
I flash him a small smile before going in search of a nurse to find out what happened to the girl Tag rescued. For Tag’s sake I really hope she made it.
10
TAG
WHEN HARPER LEAVES, I rest my head on the scratchy pillow. I’m floored that she’s actually here. She was the last person I expected to see. When I heard someone enter the room I assumed it was my mom. Honestly, I’m relieved that it wasn’t. The last thing my mom needs is to deal with this. I’m not sure she could handle it at this point. In fact, that’s why I pretended to be asleep. After I was revived, the doctors told me not to go to sleep. Then they stitched up my head and checked me for a concussion. But I wanted to give myself a few minutes before having to deal with one of Mom’s breakdowns. However, when I heard Harper’s voice, I opened my eyes.
When she re-enters, I know immediately because her scent wafts under my nose. That crisp, apple scent that clings to her skin.
“Tag?” She steps up to my bed. “The little girl’s fine.”
“Thank God.” Running a hand down my face, I heave a sigh of relief. My fingers catch on my bandage, and I wince.
“You okay?” Harper furrows her brows in a look of concern that gives me pause. Her reactions today have taken me by surprise. I felt so drawn to her on the few dates we went on, but I could never real
ly tell how she felt about me. She seemed so closed off and at a distance. Then when she ended things I thought I’d never see her again. Only now she’s here, and it’s all so confusing.
I find myself hoping that her emotions today aren’t all because of what happened with her sister. A large part of me hopes that she feels something for me too.
“I’m fine. Just a little headache. No biggie.”
A nurse shuffles into the room. “Well, it looks like you’re cleared to go.”
Harper’s head snaps up. “What? But he only got here a few hours ago. He’s hurt.”
A doctor walks in behind her, his dress shoes clicking on the floor. He has a file in the crook of his arm. “Tag. I’m Dr. Jones. I got all your test results back. No concussion, and the head wound only required a few stitches. So, you’re free to go. If you get a fever or start to feel sick, give us a call. Also, you’ll need to come back in for an appointment in about a week for a check-up and to get your stitches removed. And you shouldn’t go back to work until after that.”
“Okay.” I nod. A whole week off of work. The thought causes dread to sink into my gut. Sitting in my dark, dreary house with my depressed mom is the last thing I want to do for an entire week. Work is what keeps me sane. The doctor leaves and the nurse begins working quickly, unhooking my IV and bandaging my arm.
“I’ll be right back with your discharge papers,” she says, and swiftly leaves the room, her pants whispering as she walks.
“Well.” I sit up. “It looks like I can go. Thanks for coming.”
“I’m not leaving,” Harper smiles. “You came here in an ambulance. It’s not like you can drive yourself home. Besides, even if you could, your car’s not here.”
I panic a little thinking about Harper coming to my house. I don’t want my mom to find out what happened. I’m sure that she wasn’t notified. If Lewis called Harper, then that means that he didn’t call my mom. I don’t have her listed in my contacts, and I purposely never put her as my emergency contact in my paperwork. Mom can’t be trusted in emergency situations. She’d make everything worse. But as I look up at Harper’s beautiful face, I know that right now my best option is to go with her. I don’t want to blow her off when she’s extended this olive branch to me. The last thing I want is to push her away. Besides, she’s shared so much with me. It’s only fair that I do the same for her.