Page 99 of Everything All at Once

“I haven’t had one of those in a really long time,” he said.

He lowered the hand holding the mask.

Did I trust him?

Nope.

Did I trust my aunt?

Yeah. I had to. She had meant everything to me.

“Give it,” I said, holding my hand out.

He looked surprised but didn’t question me. He handed me the mask and took off his shirt. Then he looked at melike I should be stripping.

“Really?” I said.

“I won’t look.”

He turned around. I scanned the grounds of St. Edmund’s but didn’t see a soul in sight, so I stripped down to my bra and undies, tucked my clothes and purse and phone and the wooden box into the tote Sam had brought, and jumped into the water before he could get a look at me.

It was cold.

Freezing, actually, because even in summer the water in New England was frigid and angry.

“What now?” I asked.

He turned around, surprised to find me already in the water. He fitted his own mask over his face, and I couldn’t help but laugh. I don’t care who you are in this world; everyone looks goofy in a swim mask.

He shoved his clothes into the tote and then hid it in some tall plants. Nobody would find it unless they literally tripped over it. When he turned around, he had a large, waterproof flashlight in his hand. He waded into the water after me, sucking his breath in when it hit his chest.

How weird we must have looked to anyone who happened to see us: two kids up to their shoulders in a part of the ocean that wasn’t exactly beach-like, matching masks on our faces and a suitcase-sized flashlight.

“Are you ready?”

“Ready for what? My swimming lesson?”

I wasn’t trying to be rude. It just kept happening. Like Margo.

“Trust me,” he reminded me. “Hold my hand, and keep swimming.”

I looked away from the shore out to open water.

There was nothing.

Nothing to aim for.

Where was he taking me?

He held my hand. I pressed the mask over my face, making sure it was sealed around my nose. We swam, paddling out fifty feet or so from shore. Then he stopped, looked at me, and smiled.

“Just swim until you don’t think you can anymore,” he said, his words almost lost on the sea breeze.

“Until I don’t think I—what?”

He took an exaggerated deep breath.

I did the same.