Thirty Nine Minutes (COMPLETE)

Chapter Eight: Pool Party

"Remind me what this is called again?"

Helen had never seen Craig so relaxed. It was as if his entire body had puffed out and he practically shone in the glowing water. In one hand, he was holding a half eaten burger from the nearest fast food joint she found before arriving here. She looked up from her own mid-chew.

"It's a hamburger. Lettuce, tomatoes, pickles and cheese all sandwiched in a rather convenient bun."

"Huh. And this is like, gourmet food? It's kinda classy...hey, what's so funny?"

Helen was in fits of giggles already, fighting back the tears and kicking her legs, causing the water under her to froth and churn. She had gone all out: A case of beer, two kinds of soda, enough fries for four people and one of every burger from the menu. So far Craig had tried two and looked nowhere near stopping. He looked awfully odd with his elbows on his shelf, errant breadcrumbs scattered around him and a smudge of ketchup on the side of his mouth. Helen wrinkled her nose: The smell of the chlorine was mixing with the stink of the grease from the ever increasingly transparent paper bags between them.

"I suppose some people would call this food classy," she said. "Depends who you ask. I can't believe no one here's brought you fast food before." Craig could only shrug at her observation.

"Meals are made on site for me, I guess it was never brought up." He took another bite and his eyes glazed over in a kind of mini Nirvana at the taste of the burger. "What is that sauce stuff?"

"'Secret recipe', only the mascot and the highest corporate seat knows that." Helen winked and popped a handle of fries into her mouth.

"Secret, huh." He contemplated it for a second, his eyes misting over. "Did the canned stuff come from this fast food place too?" He pointed to the beer on the side. Helen grinned and opened one, watching Craig flinch at the sudden hiss of air.
"They wish! If junk food places could sell beer they'd make even more of a fortune. I grabbed this six pack from the liquor store. You gotta have a special licence to sell this stuff."

"Really, why?"

Helen took a drink and leaned forward towards him. "Because it's alcohol. A drug."

"A drug?! And they're allowed to sell it to anyone?"

"What do you mean, 'anyone'?" Helen quirked a brow, and Craig, hardly intimidated, grinned back. She thrust a can into his damp hand. "Try it, you just might like it. I spent the last two years of college downing this stuff. I promise you, it's relatively harmless."

He rolled his eyes. "Well, doesn't that fill me with confidence?" Undeterred, he sniffed the open top and placed his ear by it, listening to the fizz. Helen watched, opening another can and beginning another relentless chug into drunk town.

It didn't take long. An arrogant little thing like him didn't need all that much to rise to a challenge and after one last hesitation, threw his neck back and took two large drafts of the stuff: before almost immediately spitting half of one back out, spluttering his backwash into the light blue glow of the water he resided in.

"Hey! Careful! Don't get beer in the damn tank!" Helen was snickering, snorting as Craig coughed half his lungs up.

"Urgh! This tastes totally rank! How the hell are you drinking this for pleasure?"

"The first time. It's always the hardest." Helen mimicked a sagely statue of prayer, nodding and trying her hardest to look reverent. Her chest hurt from how much laughter she had crammed in there.

"Hey, shut up!" was all she heard before a sharp tug on her ankle juddered her balance. One moment she was dry; the next she was encased in a cocoon of warm water. A blanket of bubbles kissing and tickling her sensitive skin. The noise of the pump was so much louder, thrumming beneath the surface and it banged away in a muted purr right in her head.

She felt his tail first, that smooth, hard surface wrapping itself around her calves and the stiff but blunted rubbery fins on its side skimming past her knees. She opened her eyes.

The beautiful color of seafoam stared back at her.

A magic bled from her, perhaps from him too. A moment of synergy, of silence, of peace between the two species. So different yet brought together by a moment of anarchy and spontaneity. Helen hadn't even flirted with a rule break since college had ended, and it was utterly liberating to cast aside her adult self, the responsible side and get dunked most unceremoniously. She grinned as the bubbles escaped her teeth, and Craig grinned back, his smile conspicuously void of bubbles.

She pushed him, jabbing his ribs with her finger, and was delighted to discover he was rather ticklish. He flinched and scrunched his eyes shut, trying not to react but failing miserably. He grabbed her arms, perhaps forgetting himself as he pinned her in place.

Her lungs began to burn.

So she kicked instinctively, attempting to reach the surface just inches away but Craig was too lost in the fun, too swept up in the game to realize. She tried to point up but he was strong, holding her in a place she couldn't survive for more than a few minutes. All the bubbles had ebbed away and she was caught in the swirl of the water, in his ignorant but well meaning embrace. All she could do was make an attempt to plead with him, opening her mouth in what felt like her last precious moments.

The seafoam suddenly took on an air of urgency, and he let go.

The surface broke and Helen gasped, her lungs relishing the life-giving air they craved, that was followed almost immediately by hacking and coughing as she attempted to clear her throat of the chlorinated water. She barely heard Craig's alarmed asking if she was alright.

"I'm...I'm fine." Another pause to almost throw up a chunk of lung. "Just a mistake."

He lifted her out of the water with what seemed like a minimal effort whilst she lay on his shelf and cleared her trachea in the most unsophisticated manner possible, but the one her body was commanding she did anyway. After what felt like the longest time, she looked over at Craig.

Stripped of all cockiness, of all confidence, he had all the stones of a lost lamb. Doe eyes watched her, marred with guilt and shame. "Idiot," he whispered as Helen gathered herself. "Idiot, idiot, idiot. Idiot!" He smashed the water with a fist as his anger bubbled up, matching the water he was confined to.

"Craig!" she scolded. Her voice cut through as he hit the water again in his embarrassed frustration and he looked up. "It was a mistake, alright?"

He didn't answer, not verbally anyway. His eyes lulled and calmed, and he nodded, his breathing slowing at her words. After a time, he spoke.

"I almost killed you."

Perhaps it was the alcohol swimming through her system; she'd always been a cheap night out, and tonight was no exception, but her usual reservedness took a back seat, and with one hand, she placed it on Craig's dripping wet shoulder and squeezed.

"I'm fine." She smiled, watching his face light up in relief and also the inferred forgiveness of himself. He hauled himself up to sit on the shelf, throwing his arms around her.

She heard a hard sniff, and knew he was crying. She embraced him back.