old soul | matthew gray gubler

32. wishful thinking

"Watch!"

The water encasing Charlotte's body rippled around her shoulders as Matthew squeezed his eyes shut and went beneath the surface. She looked through the reflective, yet clear surface, squinting slightly to see beyond the murky water. Matthew's legs suddenly jutted out of the water, nearly hitting her in the face with his massive feet.

Charlotte squealed, swimming backwards from him. She watched as he did a decent handstand, legs swaying to the side before falling beneath the surface. He came back up, wet hair covering his face. Charlotte swam back to him, putting her entire weight on him by slipping her legs around his waist. He pushed his hair back, touching her waist with the other hand.

"Good job!" She puckered her lips and leaned in for a kiss.

Matthew's hand formed a claw and shoved her head beneath the water. Charlotte grabbed onto his wrist and quickly pulled herself back up. He laughed and moved the hair from her face.

Charlotte planted her palms on his shoulders, pushing herself out of the water. Matthew somehow didn't move until she got higher into the air. He grabbed onto her as he fell back and they went underwater. Charlotte went for the surface, but felt something press against her lips. Her eyes shot open and she laughed, despite the water surrounding her, when she Matthew kissing her.

"Ew!" She made a face when he came up, "that was gross!"

He latched onto her, morphing his expression to match her own, "You liked it."

Charlotte shook her head sarcastically and he continued to mock her until she pressed her forehead to his. "Kiss me, but not under lake water."

Matthew did as she asked, but once she leaned into his touch, he wrenched them underwater. Bubbles flew out of Charlotte's mouth and her fingernails dug into his skin. He continued to kiss her.

It was a lazy Sunday evening, nearly nighttime now, as the cicadas sang their good nights. Soon, they'd have to leave to take CeCe, Aisha, Kirsten to the airport. The week had gone too quickly, much like the rest of the summer. Charlotte didn't like to think about how they got here. It hurt to know that her aunt's death was the only thing that got her to go on this vacation.

They dragged themselves to the car when the sun dipped beneath the horizon. Charlotte stole Matthew's t-shirt, claiming that hers was too wet. He teased her about, but he settled on wearing just his hoodie. Charlotte tied her wet hair up in a towel before sliding into the front seat. They'd been using John's old station wagon that he'd refinished. It had a singular front seat, which Charlotte loved because she was able to scoot up close to Matthew. He always welcomed her with his arm slung over the back seat.

The others were already in the back seat, sun kissed and tired. CeCe looked at Charlotte with a half-hearted smile.

"You good?" The blonde quirked her brows.

Charlotte's cheeks hurt and she realized she was grinning widely. "Yeah, I'm good."

She faced front again and Matthew finally got into the car. She slipped beneath his arm and he started the car. As they drove back home, Charlotte's drifted shut. She knew she'd probably fall asleep on the way to the airport and she felt less than guilty. The sun always made her tired.