Page 42 of Girl in the Water

Of course, nobody here knew what she’d been. She’d left Daniela and all she’d done behind in the jungle. Here, she was Dani—just another young, carefree student.

Four years ago, on the airplane from Rio, when she’d been suddenly scared of leaving everything she’d ever known, scared of what would become of her in a new, unknown world, Ian had said, “You’re as good as anyone else. And you can be anything you want to be.”

Back then, she hadn’t believed him. What you were used to, no matter how bad, always seemed the safest. Because a new thing, an unknown thing, could be even worse. Like a monkey jumping from a snake in a tree and landing in the open razor-toothed mouth of a caiman.

But Ian had been tireless in convincing her. He’d woven a cocoon around her with his words and protection, months of teaching and coaxing. And when Dani emerged at last, he’d sent her off to college so she could spread her wings.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Bobby flashed a dorky grin. “I promise not to stretch it into copper wire.”

Daniela rolled her eyes and smiled.

Crystal groaned. “God, you’re hopeless, Bobby. Friendly advice. You ever find yourself in a courtroom, no jokes. The judge will hold you in contempt.”

“I have an excellent sense of humor.”

“Who told you that? Your cat?”

As the two bickered, they reached Daniela’s clunker of a car.

She quickly slipped behind the wheel so Bobby wouldn’t try to change her mind about lunch. “See you guys around.”

She could have gone out with him; she had little else to do this afternoon. He was attractive. Kind. Funny.

She’d gone out with other boys, guys from her classes. She’d even slept with two. The first one because she hadn’t fully understood yet that she could say no when somebody pushed. The second because she chose to, because she’d wanted to know if it felt different when it was chosen.

It hadn’t.

She barely reached the entrance of the parking lot before her phone pinged. She glanced at it. Text from Bobby.

How about lunch tomorrow?

She didn’t respond. Driving and texting was stupid. She’d tell him no when she got home.

Bobby was a great guy.

But she wanted…more. And she didn’t feel more with Bobby. She wasn’t even entirely sure what themorewas, if it even existed. She’d seen love in movies, but movies made up a lot of things.

All she knew was that at her core coiled a longing, almost like hunger, a wistful feeling, an expectation of something, or the promise of it.

But sex just didn’t really work for her. She wasn’t sure she’d ever want a man—not the same way that Crystal talked about her dates. Maybe that part of her was irrevocably broken. Or taken away as punishment for all that she’d done.

She headed toward the Beltway. The last couple of months in school had been hell, trying to complete all the requirements so she could graduate. She anticipated spending the summer with Ian after he watched her walk across the stage in her cap and gown.

Ian was her best friend.

He still had a strong streak of protectiveness toward her. He also made sure she kept up with the self-defense lessons so she could take care of herself.

She liked his dry humor, that he got her and she never had to explain herself to him. She liked that he’d seen where she’d come from and yet her past never for a second mattered to him.

She liked the gruffness at his core, and even his somber moods, a contrast to the happy-peppy glaze of her college friends. When kids in her classes saidanything is possible, they meantanything good. But Daniela knew that in life, bad things could happen, and Ian too understood that. Crystal also did, which was probably why she was Daniela’s best friend.

She drove across town to Ian’s 1900s three-story apartment building, went up to his third-floor apartment, let herself in, passed the IKEA hall table piled high with mail. “Hey, I’m home.”

No response, nothing but silence in the apartment. The living room and eat-in kitchen stood empty, and so did the two bedrooms. She could see the whole place from the entry; all the doors stood open.

Maybe Ian had to go into work.

She texted Bobby back with a quick sorry, then dropped her bag, adding it to the general mess. Over the past week, she’d stuffed her college paraphernalia in every corner of the place, a beanbag here, an extra computer desk there, then all her potted plants—she’d found she couldn’t live without being surrounded by green. But at least the place looked lived-in. When she’d moved out every September, the apartment went back to looking empty and lonely. And still Ian wouldn’t budge about letting her stay.