The cold bit into my skin the moment I plunged into the water, sharp and unforgiving. I didn’t think about it; I didn’t think about anything. I just jumped, with clothes, shoes, and all—into the deep blue. The world above became a blur of white light and ripples, and then, without warning, I was sinking.
Panic shot through me like electricity. My chest tightened, my heart pounding in my ears. I couldn’t breathe. The water was too thick, too cold, suffocating me. The weight of it pressed on my chest, dragging me deeper, and I could hardly keep my eyes open against the sting of saltwater.
I flailed, desperate, arms and legs a chaotic mess in the water, my body fighting against something I couldn’t understand. I choked, swallowed too much of the cold, burning liquid. My throat constricted in protest.
Blake’s voice echoed faintly in my head, distorted by the crashing waves. Flap your arms like wings, keep your legs kicking, don’t panic.
But I was panicking. Every instinct in my body screamed for air, for escape, but my limbs felt useless. My arms, once eager to fight, now felt like lead, heavy and unresponsive. I was sinking deeper. No one would notice. No one would care. This was it. This was how it ends.
A final, desperate breath of water filled my lungs, and then, as if the world were closing in, I felt something. Strong hands gripped me, yanking me upward with a force so sudden, so violent, it made my chest ache. My body was thrown to the surface, gasping for breath, my lungs burning with the effort. Water poured from my mouth and nose, and I coughed violently, my vision blurred and my head spinning. I was still drowning, but now I could see the world again.
“Savannah!” A voice snapped, hard and furious. Blake. “What the hell are you doing?!”
The sound of my name, laced with anger, cut through the haze, but it didn’t make sense. I was too disoriented to grasp the reality of his presence. Before I could react, he dragged me roughly to the edge of the pool, his grip relentless. I landed in a heap, cold water sloshing around us, our clothes sticking to our skin like a second layer.
Blake’s breath was ragged as he loomed over me, fury flashing in his eyes. “Are you trying to drown yourself just to prove a point?!” His hands seized my shoulders, shaking me as if trying to force sense into me.
I shoved him away with all the strength I had left. “What do you care?!” I screamed, the words tumbling out like acid. “You hate me!”
His hands caught my wrists before I could push him further. My attempts to pull away were useless. His grip was firm, unyielding, but there was no malice in it. His eyes, though, burned with something raw, something deeper than anger. He was angry, yes, but there was more there. Confusion? Guilt?
"Don't be stupid," he snapped, his voice harsh, but it cracked slightly—just enough for me to hear it.
“No, you don’t get to do that,” I cried, the words rushed and broken. “You don’t get to act like you care. You were laughing with her when we were supposed to have a swimming class! You saw them humiliate me and you said nothing!”
Blake didn’t speak. His eyes, full of an emotion I couldn’t quite place, locked onto mine. And then, without warning, he leaned forward, his lips crashing into mine.
It was everything at once. Gentle, sweet, filled with unspoken apologies and unshed emotions. It was angry too, like a storm breaking. His kiss was fierce, urgent, and I gasped, stunned, feeling my body freeze for a moment. I didn’t know what to do, what it meant. And then, instinct took over. I shoved him away, my hand slapping his face with a sharp, resounding crack.
The sound echoed in the quiet of the poolside, and we both stilled.
We stood there for a long moment, just staring at each other. Water dripped from our hair, running down our faces and mixing with the wetness of our clothes. My breath came in short, sharp bursts, my heart still racing, but something had shifted in the space between us. The air around us felt heavier, charged with something unspoken.
And then, he kissed me again. This time, it was different. Slower. More deliberate. His hands cradled my face, his thumbs brushing the tears and water from my cheeks, and I couldn’t help but melt into him. His lips moved softly against mine, like he was saying all the things he never had. Like he was sorry, but couldn’t say the words.
My knees buckled, and I found myself sobbing into his chest, my body shaking with the release. Why was he doing this? Why was he kissing me? I couldn't make sense of it.
“Why?” I whispered against his lips, my voice thick with emotion. “Why are you kissing me? You hate me.”
Blake pulled back just enough to look at me, his eyes dark, unreadable. He said nothing. Instead, he pulled off his soaked jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders, pulling it tightly around me like a shield, a barrier between me and the world.
It was warm, the only warmth in the cold that surrounded us.
“Let’s get you out of here,” he said softly, his voice steady, quieter now.
I wanted to scream, to ask him what it all meant, to demand answers. But before I could, the sound of footsteps echoed across the poolside. Tyler. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw us—me, shivering, wrapped in Blake’s jacket, my cheeks flushed from crying, my hair dripping wet. His eyes flicked back and forth between us, confusion spreading across his face.
“I’ll take her home,” Tyler said quickly, his voice tight, eyes still locked on Blake.
Blake’s jaw tightened at the words, his posture stiffening.