Page 52 of That Last Summer

“Deal with the police,” Alex interrupts. “All yours,” he says wearily to the pair of officers just arriving.

“As for you...” He grabs my arm and drags me away from the crowd.

“You did well, congratulations. You’re a great swimmer,” Alex’s workmate, who has followed us with Jaime, says.

“Yeah, it was amazing, Pris,” Jaime adds. “You blew me away. From this moment on, you are my heroine.”

“Thank you,” I say to them both, trying to calm my breathing. I’m still riding the adrenaline high rushing my body.

“I guess you wouldn’t have risked diving into the water if you didn’t know you could handle it,” the lifeguard says.

“Never.”

“Have you ever been a lifeguard?”

“No, but someone taught me a long time ago to survive in the water.”

And he taught me well, even though it seems like eons have passed. I remember every word, every instruction, every gesture of his body, every demonstration, every arm lift, every smile. I remember everything, the good and the bad. And this is part of the good; we must have done something right. I never let myself forget these things. At some point our lives took different roads, but not everything was bad.

“Well, I’ll leave you. I’m going with the girls for their statements. Thanks Alex.”

Alex nods, but he doesn’t say anything in response, not a single word. The guy doesn’t look surprised, so I guess he knows him quite well.

And then, Alex is scowling at me. A fight is coming I think. This is his fight face. It’s not one I’m accustomed to. We argued, yes, but our fights were very few, isolated, and almost always for the same reason. Since I’ve returned though, this is the only face I get from him.

“You didn’t have anything to prove to me,” he says.

“Prove to you?” I ask, surprised. I didn’t see that coming.

“Yes, me! Because of the jellyfish thing! You didn’t need all this pantomime to show me you can swim. I know you can, I taught you.”

“That wasn’t my intention. I’m not like that and you know it.”

I didn’t act out of hidden interest or a desire to prove anything. I have nothing to prove. The only thing prompting me to do what I did was helping the girls. I saw Alex and the other lifeguard couldn’t make it with the five of them, and I have to admit there was also a very strong feeling that pushed me to Alex. I guess that’s inevitable, right? Act on impulse when someone you love—or have loved in the past—is in danger. I guess the same thing happened to Alex with my jellyfish. Well, that and the fact that it’s his job.

“I know nothing. I don’t know you. I never have.”

I close my eyes at his words. I don’t understand why he’s saying that. It’s not true. I think it’s his pain talking, but I don’t understand where that pain is coming from.

“That’s not true.”

“For me, the Priscila of the past was a lie.”

Is he calling me a liar? No, I’ve never been a liar. He can call me a thousand different things, but never a liar. In fact, the only liar here is him.

“The Priscila of the past? Do you want us to talk about the past, Alex? Do you want us to show all our cards?”

“No. Not interested. Not anymore.”

“Okay. Then I’m going home. I’m calling my family to come and pick me up. I’m exhausted.”

And soaked. I feel the rain in my mouth and I imagine the droplets rolling down my face, just like they are on Alex’s and Jaime’s.

“There’s no one home. They’re all out, involved in I don’t know what related to the damn wedding,” he says, surly.

I look at him with an oh-no-you’re-not-going-to-fool-me-again-St. Claire look and a raised eyebrow.

“This time it’s true!” he defends himself.