Watergirl

by Juliann Whicker

  “You did a good job getting the mud out,” I said, mostly for something to say.

  “Leather wipes down easily. The mats are hoseable.”

  Wow. What a fun conversation. “Nice. So, where are we going?”

  “Le Pisces.”

  “The fancy French seafood place on the lake where the cheapest plate’s thirty bucks? I might stick with the water.”

  He glanced at me with his familiar frown. “The water starts at forty bucks a glass. They import vintage bottles. There’s nothing like aged water.” He actually rolled his eyes. “I’m paying for anything you want to eat. The jobs I get in the summer make actual money. You should try it sometime. What’s with the dress?”

  “What?” I looked down at myself and noticed that the V-neck was a little deeper than it had been at Flop’s house. Hm. I’d have to watch that. “You said to wear what I wanted.”

  “You wanted to wear that? I don’t think Flop’s dress fits you very well.”

  “Well it’s too late now, unless you want to trade. Maybe it would look better on you than on me. You do have a freakishly narrow waist.”

  “There are very few things in this life that I can’t improve, but I’m afraid that dress is one of them.”

  “Shut up. I look good. Flop wouldn’t have let me leave if I didn’t.”

  “So Flop’s the one I’ll have to thank.”

  I shrugged. “I guess so. Make sure your thanks are your typical lavish ones.”

  “Like your thank-you? The one where you tried to buy me off?”

  “Exactly like that. Offer her money to dress me again. She’d be able to invest in some matching heels. You know what your problem is, Sean?” He face showed no expression. “You have no idea what being imperfect is like.”

  He smiled at me, only a flash but it was stunning. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to work a little harder if you’re trying to insult me. That came across as a compliment.”

  I rolled my eyes and sank against the seat. However hard I tried wouldn’t be good enough, therefore, there was no point in being anything other than myself. If I messed up his car, shirt, whatever, so be it. He wouldn’t be surprised.

  When we walked into the restaurant, the woman I guessed was Sean’s mother was already at our table as we approached. She looked nothing like Sean with her dark hair and darker eyes except that she dressed and moved as flawlessly as he did.

  “You’re late,” she murmured without standing. Her tan skin picked up the light from the lake, giving her face a glistening sheen, or maybe that was some age-defying lotion or something.

  “This is Gen,” Sean said coldly.

  “Hi.” I waved stupidly while she gave me a cold stare that gave me goosebumps, or maybe that was my lack of jacket. I pulled out my chair and sat down so that I could pick up the menu and hold it up between us. I put it down when I realized that it was all in French. Awesome.

  “What’s good?” I asked the general air between Sean and his mother. There was a lot of air between them since he’d scooted his chair closer to me. Should I be afraid?

  “I already ordered,” she said coldly. She said something in French that I didn’t catch as she examined me, like I was a bug she was about to dissect.

  “That sounds per…”

  Sean cut me off. “I hope you got breaded calamari to go with the raw eel.”

  “Raw eel?” My voice squeaked.

  His mother glanced at him, indifferently. “Of course.”

  She turned to me, and I forced myself to smile brightly, like when facing the librarian with a water damaged library book.

  “You’re that girl whose mother was brutally murdered before her body was thrown in the lake. It wasn’t this lake, was it?”

  I stared at her. My voice finally came out, choked sounding. “It was an accident.”

  “Was it? Really? How do you know? Who told you it was an accident? Your father, I suppose. Tell me then, what did happen?”

  I shook my head tightly. “I don’t want to talk about my mother.”

  She raised an eyebrow, the only shift on her emotionless face. “Does it hurt? Thinking that someone you loved so much will never come back to you?”

  Yes, it hurt. My heart pounded as I stared at her, her eyes like chips of black ice in her smooth skin. “I suppose I’m lucky that my mother didn’t choose to abandon me and only see me once a year.”

  I stopped breathing for a moment as my words hung above the table, while her eyes narrowed.

  “You’re right. If I had not left Sean with his father, he wouldn’t be the weak creature he is, incapable of going against his father’s wishes, destined to remain the ambitionless, worthless flesh you see before you. He could have been so much more,” the words were harsh but she said it in the same emotionless monotone. There was something worse about that. She looked away from us, out the window at the lake.

  The waiter came, bringing plates she must have ordered, some steaming, some on ice. I was almost tempted to take something black and gooey looking on ice. I’d probably get food poisoning so we would have to go to the hospital instead of staying there with her. It wasn’t quite tempting enough. Instead I chewed on a breadstick.

  “What do you do?” I forced myself to ask as I stared at something in a red sauce that may or may not have just moved.

  “I make certain that business runs smoothly. What do you do?”

  I blinked at her. “I…”

  I glanced at Sean for help. What did I do other than become obsessive about stuff? If she found Captain Sean less than perfect there was nothing about me and my life that she’d like.

  “Um, I ride my bike.”

  She didn’t seem to hear me as her focus shifted to Sean. “You have one last chance to make the right choice. If you come to Florence this summer, I’ll train you to become something you can barely imagine. Otherwise, you’ll be considered negligible.” She wiped her mouth on her napkin and stood. I had a moment of fear as she gazed down at me before she walked to Sean, putting her hands on his shoulders. It wasn’t a maternal gesture, no, it made me think how delicate his throat looked and how easily she could crush his windpipe.

  “Consider well. Your choices may impact the lives of others.” She looked at me with her fathomless black eyes and I shivered but couldn’t look away.

  She finally left, her movements fluid and precise at the same time, like a dancer. She didn’t look back. Once she was out of sight I sank my head on the table, narrowly missing a slimy brown thing.

  I stayed like that for a long time.

  “Did you fall asleep?” Sean sounded amused.

  I raised my head wearily. He was amused. He was actually smiling at me, me who felt like I’d been through a war and back.

  “Why me? Junie would have been better.”

  “Junie would have giggled and flirted with me.”

  That was true. “So. I’m feeling like you might have taken advantage of my gratitude. I think you owe me food I can actually eat. Raw eel?” I shuddered. “Not that I would have been able to eat anything even if it was one of Rosie’s steak and onion blossom specials. Who can eat under pressure?” I examined his plate. “You didn’t eat anything either.”

  He shrugged. “No, I don’t eat around my mother. Even if she didn’t have them poison the food, which I can’t guarantee, being around her gives me too much adrenaline. Fight, flight, not eat.”

  I stood up, feeling exhausted. The waiter who came to our table didn’t glance at me. I’d become invisible at some point. So much for looking nice.

  He stood up, dropping bills on the table. “Rosie’s steaks and onion blossom sounds good.”

  I shook my head. “All I need is a drive through. Burgers, fries…”

  “Not drive through. Don’t you care what’s in your body?”

  I stared at him, at his chiseled jaw and the mouth that looked little bit pouty, then at the table and the bits and pieces of who knew what, some of which looked like enormous slugs.
“Not really. Especially if Junie isn’t around to tell me what chemical is in the bite and what the slaughter yard smells like.”

  “No drive through. There’s no way I’m allowing the scent of fast food to permeate my upholstery.”

  “Ugh. Sean, you are seriously messed up.”

  “You met my mother.”

  I looked up at him where we stood right outside the door waiting for the valet to bring his car around. He didn’t look vulnerable, but I had met his mother. She’d called him a worthless loser right in front of him. No one living in reality could call Sean anything other than a motivated, disciplined perfectionist in everything he did.

  The car pulled up and he went around, ducking in while I stared at perfect Sean in his perfect car. No one had a perfect life, not even him. I didn’t feel any better about him not being perfect; I felt sad instead. I climbed in then leaned over and gave him a hug. He stiffened like I’d tazered him.

  “What are you doing?”

  “It’s called a hug. They make people feel better.”

  “You feel better now?”

  “I’m going to sit here until you hug me back. I’m not really a hugger either, but it does make you feel better.”

  “I could force you off of me.”

  “But you might mess up your upholstery. It’s a hug Sean. Go with it.”

  He slowly raised his arms on either side of me. They hovered a couple inches away from me. “This is creepy.”

  “Yeah, that’s because you’re acting like an idiot. Hah. Captain Hotness doesn’t know how to hug.” I squeezed him tighter, enjoying the way he stiffened up even more. Apparently I had a teeny sadistic streak.

  He exhaled and grabbed me, crushing me against him in a sudden movement that compressed my lungs so that I couldn’t breathe. Before I could pass out he let go, pushing me back into my seat. He proceeded to buckle me in, making sure I was firmly in my seat and didn’t try any more ‘creepy’ hugging stuff.

  I giggled.

  “Don’t make that noise.”

  I giggled again, with the added attractiveness of snorting at the end.

  He sighed. “Don’t tell me that you’ve succumbed to my charms.”

  “Ha. I was picturing you as a wriggling puppy. I’m safely ensconced in an obsession with someone else, so you don’t have to worry about me hugging you with ulterior motives.”

  “You are?” He glanced over at me with a frown. “So that’s why you stopped changing your clothes.”

  “Thanks for noticing.”

  “What’s it like?”

  “Hm? Smelly, I guess. Also itchy.”

  “Being obsessed. What is that like?”

  I shrugged and turned on the radio. His sound system was amazing and the tunes playing? I’d never heard them before but it was like a score off an awesome movie, something dark, brooding, but with moments of perfect tone and harmony that made me want to cry. I’d meant to find any stupid love song and say, ‘like that,’ but instead I listened to the music, sinking back into the leather while the sound crashed around me and he drove through the encroaching shadows, precise driving that matched the music.

  He pulled up outside Rosie’s Steakhouse with the car idling while he waited for the sound to swell then dissipate into nothing. He shut off the engine and got out, spare movements that never used more energy than necessary. My dad would have liked to train him.

  “Do you have a sensei?” I asked when I got out, looking at him over the top of the car.

  “Hm?” He frowned at me.

  “You move like a… well, an athlete I guess. Never mind.”

  “You’re watching me move? Maybe I am your new obsession.”

  I rolled my eyes as I went around the car to him, then happened to glance down and saw how low my dress had plunged while my skirt was way higher than mid-thigh. “Hold on.” I yanked on it while he stared at me until everything was back inside my dress. “This dress migrates towards my waist. Like I need extra fabric there. Okay. I’m good.”

  He was still staring at me.

  “What? Did I miss something?” I twisted around to see the back while he made a choking noise that after a moment I realized was laughter. “Sean? Are you okay? I hate to tell you this, but you actually laughed. Out loud. You might need to be committed if this happens again.”

  “I apologize. It won’t happen again. Unless you do that…”

  “What?” I frowned up at him. “Seriously, what?”

  He shook his head and walked inside. I followed, trying to see my reflection in the window, but I looked fine. Once inside the smell of steak wafting through the air made my mouth water and my eyes droop in expected fulfillment.

  It was late for dinner so we didn’t have to wait for a table, either that or one look at Sean and the hostess forgot who the reserved table was for. As we walked through the room, I felt the hair on the back of my neck rise. Football players apparently loved steak on a Friday night. I edged closer and closer to Sean the deeper into the throng we went.

  Cole was at a table with a bunch of guys since Sharky was still out of commission. Oh how I almost felt guilty about not feeling guilty. The waitress seated us two tables down from them, far enough I didn’t have to worry about a coke on my head, not far enough to block out their conversation, if you could call grunting and chanting conversation.

  Sean ordered for both of us before the waitress could leave to get our waters. He was a paragon of efficiency.

  “Is it one of them?” he asked as he slid into the booth, gesturing behind him at the group.

  “One of what?”

  “Is your new obsession another football player? Like your last obsession.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Is my obsession your obsession? What would you call that?” Actually, I hadn’t thought much about it, or Oliver during the drive or dinner with his mother. “No. That you don’t know is a good sign. Apparently I’m getting better at…”

  “Someone at the swim table.”

  I frowned at him. “Why would you say that?”

  “You used to look at us, wave at Bernice, but you don’t anymore.”

  “I don’t look at anyone during lunch anymore. I have better things to do.”

  “Like stare at your lunch. You didn’t deny it. It is someone at the swim table, but not me.” I rolled my eyes. “Is it Ben? That might be why you’ve been so distant from Bernice…”

  “Oliver. It’s Oliver, okay? Why do you keep asking me? It’s none of your business. So, I let him kiss me even though I knew it was phenomenally stupid. Thanks for reminding me, by the way. The only good thing about being with you is that I don’t think about him.”

  He tightened his jaw, the muscle twitching as he glared at me. “You let him kiss you. Why am I surprised?”

  I blinked at him. I wasn’t prepared for the contempt that dripped from his voice. “I don’t know. You’re always telling me how stupid I am. I’d think that you’d expect it.”

  Our steaks came and I dug in as eager to end the conversation as I was to eat. I didn’t notice him for awhile but eventually realized that he’d stopped eating and was pushing his potatoes around his plate instead.

  “Hey, Vee,” Cole said leaning over the back of my booth to hover over me. He probably didn’t mean to come across as threatening, but he was right above my head. “So, you and Sean on a date. Nice.”

  I stiffened. “Cole. How’s Sharky?”

  “Good. She’s coming to school on Monday. Don’t forget what I told you, and Vee, if you want to come over tomorrow morning to spar, you know you could use the practice.” I twisted my head up and to the side so I could get a good look at him. He smiled, a nice smile that I didn’t expect. “And,” he added, dropping his gaze, “If you wear that dress, I’ll let you beat me.”

  The dress. I didn’t do anything while he strolled away from me, laughing at his friends loudly so that everyone in the restaurant looked up at him. Once he was out of sight I pulled up the dangerously low front whil
e I tugged down the skirt.

  Sean spoke quietly. “Cole seemed friendly. Maybe he misses having a pathetic girl trailing him around.”

  I glared at him. “Maybe. Or maybe he wants to pick up where we left off.”

  He leaned forward, narrowing his eyes at me. “Did you let him kiss you? You did, didn’t you? So, how long were you obsessed?”

  “None of your business.”

  “You were friends though, maybe you liked him, maybe you thought you loved him before you kissed. That’s an emotional bond. With Oliver, what did you have? You were interested, but not emotionally involved. Otherwise you would have been jealous instead of disinterested the more girls he collected.”

  “Great. I really love talking about my obsessions. It’s so helpful when I’m trying to forget about them. Well, you know what? It’s your turn. Why don’t you have a girlfriend, Sean? Think how convenient it would be to have only one girl instead of a whole crowd. You would waste so much less time trying to deal with infatuated people. Think of the shirts that got wrinkled as girls pressed against you. One girl, that’s all you’d need, but no. Is it really because you can’t deal with a distraction? You seem pretty capable of balancing plenty of things at once. Why not? Oh, maybe she’d get close to you, hug you. Maybe she’d hurt you, break your heart, but no, that’s not the issue, because you don’t have a heart.”

  He raised an eyebrow and I noticed his scowl had faded slightly. “You think that having someone else attached to me would solve anything? It would only be one more person who wants something from me, who felt that I owed them. You wouldn’t know what that was like. No one expects anything of you. You’re so passive, you don’t choose anything; everything in your life is circumstantial. The only thing I’ve ever seen you choose against someone else’s will was when you disobeyed your father and learned how to swim. You probably didn’t tell him though. You wouldn’t like the conflict. The only reason you go to the lake when everyone wants you to stay away isn’t because you choose it, but because it draws you there, compels you. Your will is weaker than a body of water. I don’t understand how you can be so passive about your own life. It’s the only one you have.”