Hold My Breath (11 page)

Will’s forehead furrows and his mouth hangs open before he laughs hard.

“Beating your head against a wall is
never
noble,” he says. “That’s just stupid.”

I shrug.

“Seems a lot like local politics to me,” I say.

Will laughs again, smiling at the winding roadway disappearing into the thick cluster of trees ahead.

“Yeah, well, it’s better than delivering newspapers in Michigan in the thick of winter,” he says.

My tongue pushes into the corner of my mouth and I bite it as I watch him and wait for him to elaborate. He eventually glances my way and shrugs.

“I needed a job with benefits, and there aren’t a lot of people hiring a marketing guy—a few credit hours shy of a bachelors—with an extreme DUI record that made most of the papers in the Midwest, thanks to the footnote about a potential recreational drug problem.

I know my eyes widen, but I try to keep my reaction in check. Will still turns away, though. I wait for him to say more, and when he doesn’t, I ask.

“Was it true?”

His mouth falls into a tight, straight line, and his eyes scan the roadway, moving from mirror to mirror before pausing to look at me at a four-way stop, our last turn before the lake. Will sighs and slides his hands to the center of the steering wheel, leaning back into his seat and letting his head roll to the right, peering at me.

“Some of it,” he says.

I wince, and he reaches over and brushes his arm against mine.

“I said
some,”
he repeats. I hold his gaze and take a deep breath. “My drinking got dangerous. And I tried some things, maybe ended up hanging out with some people I shouldn’t have. I’m not the first wannabe athlete to be caught smoking pot, though. And the other things…I tried, but only once or twice. Nothing felt as good as Jack Daniels.”

“Until the tree,” I say.

He nods and lifts his eyebrows high before swinging his body forward again to turn the car toward Peterson Lake.

“You
are
an athlete, Will,” I say, just as the water begins to come into view. His forehead wrinkles and he glances toward me. “You said wannabe, but I just wanted to make sure you knew that you were different. You actually
are.
”

He chuckles bashfully, slowing the car as we clear the thick trees.

“Thanks, Maddy. But I’m nothing, yet,” he says.

We both exit the car and walk toward the water’s edge, thick layers of leaves caked along the shoreline. The rope is tied around the tree’s trunk, and my eyes follow the length up high to the thick branch several feet above the surface. The sight of it makes me smile, and when I turn around to share this moment with Will, I find him making the same face.

“It’s exactly the same,” he says, kicking his shoes from his feet.

I smirk, and kick mine away too, pulling my arms through my shirt and tossing it to the ground quickly, catching Will’s attention.

His head cocks in suspicion as I unbutton my shorts and slide them down my legs, stepping out of them cautiously, gaining a few feet on him before he gets what I’m doing and tosses his shirt to the ground.

“Last one there…” I shout through laughter, running barefoot along the water’s edge, up the dirt hill, Will close behind me.

“You are
not
going to be the first to swing from that tree, Woodsen. You don’t even do it right!” he teases.

“Sounds like
loser
talk to me,” I shout back, darting through trees and clawing at roots to pull myself up the small bluff holding the trunk of the swing’s tree.

My footing slips, and soon Will passes me, laughing over his shoulder and winking as his toes fling mud all around me.

“Oww!” I shout, sitting down and turning to lift my foot in my hand.

“Maddy, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Will climbs down a few paces to lean on the hill next to me, and as soon as he’s resting his weight on his knee, I push against his shoulder and lift myself up, sprinting by him again.

“Ha ha, sucker!” I yell, pumping my arms and legs hard the rest of the way to the rope. I tug the end and begin unwrapping, but am not fast enough to beat Will completely. His hands cover mine as we both manically battle to take control over this piece of our childhood.

“I got here first!” I giggle, pushing one of his hands away only to have to fend off the other.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m the superior swinger,” he says.

I lean my head back and laugh hard.

“You’re a swinger, Will Hollister? I had no idea,” I say.

He purses his lips, and my chest shudders with my amusement.

Our arms tangle, and we both try to hug the rope, my feet struggling against his to steady the small peg of wood at the bottom. Eventually, we’re both locked into one another, and I let out a heavy sigh. There’s no way I’m going to be able to cut him loose, and there’s no way he’s going to give up and let me have the first swing. We never let the other one win at anything, not even the shit that didn’t matter.

“Fine, we go together,” I say.

Will’s eyes hit mine.

“Fine!” he shouts, pulling my body in close to his and pushing away from the ridge of the hill before I have a chance to truly prepare myself for any of it.

“You son of a…”

My words fade into a scream as we sail above the water in a huge half circle. I scrunch my eyes closed and hold my breath as Will tugs my hands free of the rope, our legs kicking together while his arms hold onto my body tightly as we fall toward the water, the cold hitting us in a rush, knocking the wind from our lungs—muffled screams quickly silenced under the water.

We fall deep into the blue, bubbles fizzing along our arms and legs as we break free and kick our way back to the surface. I cough when I taste air, and Will howls, flinging his arms back into a backstroke, kicking his legs hard and splashing water into the sky.

“Wooo whoo!” he yells, his voice echoing around us.

I gasp and tread water, my arms and legs working hard to find warmth for my chest.

“That was so much better than I remember!” he says.

“Ye…yeah…so so so so so….”

My teeth chatter.

Will chuckles, swimming back to me, reaching his arm out for me to take. I grab hold and let him pull me in, my only focus on catching my breath until suddenly I can breathe, and my attention becomes fixed on the feel of his hand on the place where my suit is cut low along my back. His warmth on my skin. His legs kicking with mine, to hold me up. His head resting against mine. His breath…ragged. My eyes falling to his mouth, my lips quivering, his parting. His tongue resting between his teeth. Shivers.

“We should go,” I say. My hand finds the center of his chest and pushes.

Will doesn’t fight, quickly letting go of his grip on me. I kick and swing my arms a few times until I see the shoreline come into view through the murky water. Righting myself, I walk up the rest of the way, pushing my hair back from my face, twisting it and wringing it out. Debris from the ground sticks to my feet and legs, so I pick some of the larger leaves away before bending down and grabbing my T-shirt. I slide it over my head, and it sticks to my wet suit underneath.

I don’t turn to watch Will walk up the shore, but I hear the crunch of the leaves under his feet as he steps closer, and from my periphery, I see him lift his own shirt in his hands. I pick up my shorts and feel in the pockets, panic hitting me unexpectedly when I don’t feel the photo inside. My eyes begin to dart around, and I turn in circles until Will’s hand wraps around my arm, causing me to look up at him.

“Here,” he says, his eyes on the photo of a much younger me and him. I look down and take it from his hand.

“Thanks,” I say. “It must have fallen out.”

He breathes in slowly.

“Must have,” he says, his voice quiet, but the swallow that follows is loud.

I stand frozen while he moves to a large stone, sitting and pulling on his shoes. I choke on everything eating me up inside, coughing as I step into my shorts, keeping the photo in my hands to protect it from getting wet.

“You ready?” Will asks, his eyes moving away from me the moment I look at him.

I nod, even though he can’t see me. He doesn’t wait to hear my words and begins to walk up the slope to his car.

This walk isn’t as hurried. There’s nothing to win at the end of this journey. If anything, I would be running away.

We both climb in quickly and buckle our belts. Before Will shifts the car in reverse, he turns the radio on, stopping at a classic-rock station. The Eagles tell us to
take it easy,
Bruce begs for glory days
,
and by the time John tells us a
little ditty about Jack and Diane
I start to laugh uncontrollably. Will turns his head just enough, curious.

“Even the classics want to make me crazy,” I say, not really to anyone at all. Will turns back to the road. He doesn’t respond, and after a few minutes, I quit smiling about it. Nothing about it is funny anyhow.

We ride the rest of the way without talking, and my hand reaches for the handle, ready to rush toward the safety of my own car, the second Will’s tires grip the gravel of the club house driveway. When he pushes the car into park, though, neither of us move. Will’s hands run along the steering wheel, and he leans forward, folding his palms on top of one another, resting his chin on them, his eyes staring at the building where we first met.

So many years ago.

I leave my hand on the door latch, but my eyes center on Will. My mouth itches to frown, the taste inside acidic. Nothing is fair, and I hate this confused feeling. I don’t understand why I have it. My pendulum swings from missing him, to feeling relief that he’s here, that he’s
home
, to wanting to hit him in the chest so hard that it empties the air from him. I want him to hurt, just like I hurt. And I’m terrible for wanting it, but that’s our thing…we’re honest with each other, aren’t we?

“Why did you leave Indiana?”

My voice breaks the silence, but nothing follows. I breathe. My chest in and out. My pulse quickens.

“You transferred to Michigan with one year left. You never came back here. You were…
gone.
”

Will’s body rises with a long slow breath, and his head rolls to the side, his cheek flat against the back of his hands, his blue eyes opening on mine.

Crystal. Honest.

“I couldn’t be here…because you were here,” he says.

I swallow hard, sucking in my lip to keep it from trembling. It’s both what I wanted to hear and what I dreaded. His words make me afraid and angry. Through it all, he never looks away. I force myself to stare right back through him. I read him. He couldn’t possibly have been more sincere with what he just said, and it breaks me.

“Why did you…come…back?”

My breath grows heavy through those last two words. My chest hurts, and fear starts to snake its way around my body. Will’s eyes remain fixed on mine. Seconds pass before he finally blinks. His head shakes the tiniest bit, and I know it’s coming.

It’s going to hurt. There’s a slant to his eyes. A souring. Regret.

“Because you were here,” he says.

The same honesty laid bare before me, my heart drops to the depths of my chest, and my head grows light. My mouth begins to water with sickness, and within seconds, my forehead rushes with heat.

“No,” I say, breaking our stare and pushing hard on the door handle, rushing from the small space I was trapped in—with him—to my own car nearby.

“Maddy, wait!” he yells. I hear the sound of his door slam closed and his feet pound along the ground, so I walk faster.

“Let me go, Will,” I say, fumbling with my keys, clicking the unlock button just as I reach for the door. I open and slip inside, trying to close Will off.

“Maddy, stop. Just…please, Maddy,” he says, grabbing the car door just as I try to shut it.

“Let go, Will. I shouldn’t have come here. You and me, we need to focus. This…digging up the past, and all of these memories, it’s…none of this is good for either of us, Will. Just let me go, and let’s go back to being friendly in the pool. I’ll root for you, Will. But that’s it. I can’t…”

I stop when he kneels down just outside my door, his hands taking mine, grappling and pulling them toward him. My eyes sting with tears, and I lose my grip on everything. I give over.

I’m weak, and I don’t care.

“I can’t do that, Maddy,” he says, his hand lifting my chin, his thumb swiping away a tear. He leans forward, sitting on his knees in the gravel, until his head falls to my lap in the driver’s seat and his arms circle around me. My hands shake as they hover above his head, his hat on the floor of my car, near my feet. I’m locked, fingers rigid, afraid to let myself touch him.

“You’re the only thing that doesn’t make me want to drown,” Will says, and my hands fall softly into his hair. My lungs fill at the touch. “I think I came here knowing that you were my only shot at peace.”

My fingers thread through the wet strands, and Will twists his head in my lap, his rough jawline scratching my leg, his lips opening enough to catch on my skin, pausing until he pulls them closed in a kiss. His head rolls more, and his mouth brushes against my thigh again. I feel the chills all the way up to the back of my neck.

“Maddy,” he breathes my name against my skin.

My hands fall deeper into his hair, my hold stronger. Will’s hands move around me more, one sliding under my legs, bringing them toward him, outside the car, while his other hand holds the center of my back as he crawls closer to me, his body rising between my legs. His mouth kisses along the fringe of my denim shorts, then up to the waist band, until his teeth grip the bottom of my T-shirt and his hands slide to my hips, his thumbs hooking underneath the fabric and lifting my shirt up and over my body, tossing it to the passenger seat behind me.

Will rests his knee between my thighs, and I arch back over the center console while he moves over me, his mouth now pressing a kiss into my swimsuit-covered ribs, then the center of my chest. My fingers glide into his hair more, then down his chest as he rises above me, his forehead falling against mine as his eyes close. He shakes his head and parts his lips, almost as if he wants to say more, but before he can stop himself, before I can resist, his mouth covers mine completely, and the weight of his body falls into mine, every curve of my body scorching with the heat from the hardness of his.