Left Drowning(10)

Part of my old self has awoken, and I am going to let this day happen.

He does not ask about my parents or anything about my childhood, and I am grateful for that. I do the same.

Chris has already told me that he’s lived “too many places to mention” and that he’s majoring in economics and minoring in English lit. We also spent twenty minutes discussing our favorite coffee drinks, a conversation that only cemented how f*cking cool he is. How many college students have a French press and a milk frother in their rooms? One. That’s how many.

“My sister has tried to steal the press on more than one occasion. I bought her one, but she claims the coffee mine makes tastes better.”

“You have a sister?”

“A sister and two brothers.”

“How old?” I ask.

“They’re all here at Matthews with me. Estelle and Eric, they’re twins, are sophomores, and my brother Sabin is a junior.”

“Wait. Sabin?” There couldn’t be that many Sabins on a campus this small. “Tall, dark hair, a little … wild?”

Chris laughs. “You know him?”

“Just met him this morning. He stole my coffee. Apparently coffee-related thievery runs in your family.”

“He’s a handful. Best brother you could ask for. Well, he and Eric.”

“Sort of funny that you are all at the same school,” I say. The air is much warmer now, and I’m about to take off my sweatshirt when I remember that I just have on a T-shirt underneath. One that would show my left arm. I settle for unzipping the sweatshirt and dealing with the heat.

Chris shrugs. “We’re pretty close, I guess. The thought of us all being spread across the country at different schools sucked, so here we are.”

“How did you end up at Matthews?”

“I saw it on a shirt once. Seemed like a good idea.”

I impulsively swat him on the arm, aware of how comfortable I feel doing this. I’m amazed that I don’t feel any weirder about my freakish behavior earlier than I do, but I don’t. It seems Chris can tolerate my eccentricities. “I’m serious!”

He tips his head to me. “So am I.”

“That’s a weird way to choose a college.”

He grins. “We’re a weird bunch.”

“Your parents must have whopping empty-nest syndrome with all four of you away now, huh?”

“It’s just my father at home. My mother died when we were all pretty young. A brain aneurysm. Totally random. No way to see it coming.” Chris sits up, and his shadow travels across my stomach. “So we have something in common.”

“Dead mothers.”

“Yes,” he agrees. “Dead mothers.”

So he understood what was happening to me while we were standing in the water together. That was the connection that I felt.

“I’m glad that we don’t have dead fathers in common,” I say. “At least you still have one parent.”

He says nothing. I roll onto my side and tuck up my knees, and Chris does the same so that we are facing each other. I don’t shy away from studying him, letting my eyes travel over his body. I am relaxed, thoroughly relaxed. And exhausted. I drowsily ask him anything that I can think to ask because I want to keep him talking. His voice is soothing and beautiful, and his face is all I see as I drift off.

I sleep without dreaming, and when I wake up, Chris is still beside me, leaning back onto his elbows and looking out at the water. Slowly I sit up, and he smiles at me.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” I busy myself with brushing sand off my jeans and redoing the knot holding my hair back so that he can’t see how embarrassed I am. It’s disorienting to have zonked out so completely. “How long was I asleep?”

“A few hours.”

“A few what?” Oh my God. “I’m sorry. You didn’t have to sit here while I slept. I’m sure you have things to do.”

Chris shakes his head. “Why would I want to leave? Beautiful day, happily snoozing girl? Did you sleep well?”

“I did.” It’s an almost nonexistent occurrence, and I am positive that I slept so peacefully because of Chris. Asking him to sit next to me every night so that I can sleep without nightmares is probably unreasonable… .

“Know what?”

“What?”

Chris bounces up so that he is looming above me. “I’m f*cking starving.”

“Oh. Okay.” I squint up at him. He likes to curse, too. “I should probably get going, too.”

His hand stretches down to me. “Let’s go to lunch. I know a great place. Actually, that’s not true. It’s not a great place, but it’s an interesting place.” He picks up my backpack as he grabs my hand and pulls me to standing. “You’ve got to be hungry, too. It’s way past lunchtime, and I bet you didn’t eat breakfast.”

He’s right, and I am starving, but I’m hesitant to push this day anymore. The safety that I feel with him by the lake can’t possibly hold up if we leave. “I don’t know. I have studying to do, and—”

“Nonsense. C’mon.” He pulls me forward and then drops my hand as he again walks backward.

Our walk back toward campus is quiet, but not awkward. It’s a rare thing to be with another person and not feel an obligation to fill every second with talk. Chris shoves his hands in his pockets and lifts his head into the sunlight as we stroll. Eventually the local businesses come into view, and he points to a blue flag waving in the slight breeze. “Have you eaten here? You must have, of course. Everyone has.”