In Your Dreams

Stage 1: REALISTICALLY, Chapter 1: Wake Up

Stage 1 – Realistically
wakefulness to sleep, eye movement

Chapter 1

"Wake up! Please, wake up!"

His hand, still warm and wet, is clasped between mine as I kneel beside him, the rough concrete of the pool deck digging into my knees. I take in the way his eyelashes flutter, clinging to that sign of life, half of me afraid I'm about to lose him and the other half insisting he's going to be okay.

"Stay with me, stay with me."

I lean closer, desperate to find a heartbeat. His bathing suit is changing colours, from red to green and back to a shade of red. My own heart pounds furiously, echoing in my ears as I place my hands on his chest and will it to move, all my CPR training coming into focus.

And then he breathes.

"Jessie."

I've never been so happy to hear my name. I choke on a sob as he sits up on his elbows, coughing and gasping for air, and I take my first real breath since he's stopped taking his.

I wipe at my eyes, feeling the weight lift off my chest. "You're okay."

He lies back on the floor. "What happened?"

Just the thought of saying it makes me choke up again. I clear my throat, trying to drag out the words and soften them at the same time. "You almost drowned."

"What?! How?"

A good question coming from a strong swimmer. I remember how we were both doing laps and he suddenly disappeared. "I honestly don't know."

He swallows hard, quiet for a few moments as we both catch our breath.

I lie next to him and wrap my arm around him. "That was scary."

His arms press against my back, hugging me tight. "I know."

I find myself counting the moments that are putting me further and further away from losing him. We lie there like that, staring at the skylight of the campus gym, saying nothing for a long time. Even in our best moments, silence is never awkward. And for once, I'm too busy feeling grateful to think.

His breathing slows to its regular rhythm. "This doesn't feel like enough to say, but thank you."

I squeeze his arm. "Of course. You'd do the same for me."

He starts rubbing my shoulder, then stops. "Did you pull me out by yourself?"

I remember getting both of us to the wall and climbing out, shouting his name, as if I could just wake him up. "Yeah."

He jerks to a sitting position. "That pool is massive. You swam all of that while keeping both our heads above water? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, I—hold on a sec." I sit up, my foot sloshing in one of the puddles. "I'm okay. It's you we should be talking about."

I take in his dark brown eyes, almost positive I can pick out every thought swirling there—he's confused, he hates that I could have gotten hurt too, he's tired, and he's afraid.

I know he is because I am too.

I stand up and hold out my hand. "Come with me."

The walls shake and shoot backwards to create the outline of a mall-like food court. The brightly lit signs over each vendor compete with the loud chatter of people rushing by.

I walk up to our favourite Italian fast food booth, which magically has no line-up. "Spaghetti and meatballs," I request, and next thing I know I'm holding a tray of pasta and dropping it onto a table for two. We slide into the booth across from each other and start eating.

For a minute I think it's working, but then he puts down his fork and shakes his head. "I can't believe that happened." He cuts himself off but I hear the word he hasn't said out loud: again.

I feel myself lose whatever appetite I had. "I know."

"And this is the first time it's happened in front of you. I'm blanking out in the pool." He looks at me, and I feel my heart sink. "Why?"

The word "why" runs around my mind in vicious circles, scary combinations of words tailgating it to the finish line, where absolutely no answer is waiting.

Why is this happening? Why him? I've been asking myself those questions for days.

I watch water droplets trail down his red-brown hair, pooling onto his white shirt. Just minutes ago I was right there, urging him to breathe.

I lean in and fold my arms across my chest. "Let's figure this out. When was the first time this happened again?"

He pushes the last meatball to my side of the plate, saving it for me. "I can't remember that far back. Maybe since I was a kid?"

"And it's never happened when someone else is around?"

He runs his hands through his hair. "This is the first time it's been bad enough for someone to notice."

I cut the last meatball in half so we can share. "And you still keep swimming?"

"Jess." He leans across the table, his eyes imploring. "Would you give it up?"

I try to picture never getting into a pool again, never pushing off the wall and melting into the water, trusting it to carry my weight as my arms and legs pull me from one end to the other.

I sigh. "No. I wouldn't."

But then, what's going to happen to him? My throat tightens and a weight pushes down on my chest. Not him too.

He reads the sadness on my face. "Hey. You're right—we'll figure this out. We've been best friends for how many years now?"

It feels nice to hear him perk up a bit. "Too many to count," I tease.

He laughs and for a second, it's like the clouds have opened up and the sun is shining through. "And so far we've always been able to figure things out together, right?"

He looks at me and I stare back, a wave of comfort washing over me. His gaze has always had that effect.

"Right." I smile. "Plus every time I ask if you're okay, you say..."

He picks up our empty tray and winks. "Always am."

I watch as he dumps the stray pieces of spaghetti into the compost. I promise myself, I will make this better.

Though I have no idea how.