Falling in the Dark | ✓

8 | Underwater

"What?" I say blankly, wondering if I had misheard him.

"The party." Liam runs a hand through his hair once again. Short, dark brown strands stick up in messy tufts. "That was you."

His tone rises at the end as though he's asking me a question.

"Wh-what are you saying?" I stutter, shaking my head. A surge of anger turns everything red; I'm mad at myself for not being able to comprehend three simple words.

"Carmen," Liam says frantically, deliberately. "I was part of that experiment, too. That kiss . . . it was us."

I keep looking at the people in the water, swimming as though everything is all right. The girl and boy at the far end are still laughing and splashing each other. Their blissful ignorance is perplexing. How can they be so calm, so normal when everything is upside down?

There's a small, rational part of me that knows I should ask questions. My lips are parted, and I'm leaning forward, but I can't find the right words.

After a long silence, I suddenly ask, "You remember it?"

Liam tips his head until our eyes are level. For the first time, I notice the brown and green flecks suspended in his hazel irises. I hate myself for observing this small detail, and I hate myself more for not being able to look away.

"We really have to go, man."

I look around in confusion until I spot Rick standing a few paces behind me, looking so agitated that I almost expect steam to blow out his ears like a cartoon. An inexplicable urge to laugh takes over me, and I have to bite my lower lip to hold myself together.

"Rick, now's not the—" Liam speaks with alarming severity, narrowing his eyes.

"Dude, it's the source code," he says, raising his palms in surrender. "You have to hurry, man, it's a fucking mess."

"Okay," Liam sighs heavily. "I have to change first. Can you wait outside?"

Rick nods and walks through the double doors as Liam pushes himself off the bench. I sit still, fiddling with a loose thread on my towel. He turns to me with apologetic eyes that drift down to my lips for a second. A small gasp rises in my throat when he reaches out to me, swiping his thumb beneath my lip. The same tentativeness, the same tenderness. Just like the beautiful stranger.

"How can I forget?" he says before walking towards the door opposite to the entrance, leading to the locker room.

Numbness spreads through my body as I watch his receding figure. I finally understand that his question was an answer to mine. The numbness remains even as I force myself to stand and walk towards the edge of the pool. The towel falls off my waist with a tug and lands on the floor in a fluffy white heap.

I dive into the deep end of the water — too shimmery, too bright now — just to feel something.

❅

A small strain tugs at my calf muscles as I pace the cold room. It's a tolerable discomfort now, but I know that I will wake with excruciating pain in my limbs tomorrow.

I had lost track of time when my body cut through the water. I kept my eyes wide open underwater, ignoring the sting of chlorine as I swam lap after lap. Furious, mechanical motions that I didn't even have to think about. By the time I climbed out of the pool, my limbs jittering and stumbling as though they'd forgotten what to do, the place was empty. I felt a hundred pounds heavier as I walked to the adjacent locker room, but the water clinging to my black swimsuit wasn't what weighed me down. My thoughts were an incoherent mess in that room lined with rows and rows of blue lockers. After changing, I sat down on the long benches, telling myself to calm down, calm down, calm down. And I was failing miserably.