Picturesque

Chapter 20: Confession

"Why not?"

"You can't just teach someone to swim in one day."

"I can at least try." She tugged at the arm of my robe. "Come on, you don't want to get that old thing wet—it might disintegrate."

I looked down at my navy-blue robe that my mother had bought for me on my twelfth birthday, some ten years before. It had a few unknown stains and a few more rips and tears.

The sound of water splashing drew my attention, and I saw Jo jumping down into the water. "I said come on!" she yelled as she turned to face me, easily wading backwards.

Sighing, I looked around at the night sky. The moon was full and bright, not a single cloud to cover the millions of stars twinkling down at us. I felt more comfortable with Jo now, even with the tension of the unspoken night still vibrating in my heart.

Slowly, I untied my robe and let it slip off my shoulders, folding it into a neat pile and setting it away from the pool so it wouldn't get wet. Jo waded in the water and watched me, her chin resting just above the surface as I stood up.

"Just step in. It's shallow," she said quietly, her eyes tranced on me as I carefully let my legs slip further into the water, my hands holding onto the edge. The water was a little chilly, snatching my breath from me as I let my body slide all the way in. I feared for a moment when I couldn't find the bottom of the pool, but finally my feet touched the ground, and I let go of the edge. The water was shallow, but it still came up to my chest.

Jo stood up in the water with a smile. "See! It's not so bad!"

"Yea, but I'm not swimming. I'm just standing in water."

Wordlessly, Jo walked over to me, her eyes darker under the night sky. She reached under the water until she found my hands, taking them in hers and gently pulling me. "Let's go to the deep side."

"Jo," I argued, but she was pulling me in the water, and I had no choice but to walk with her to keep my feet from slipping out from under me and my head going underwater.

Holding onto her hands, I let her pull me a little further. The water went over my collarbones, up my neck, until finally it was at my chin and I already felt like I couldn't breathe. "That's enough."

"What did you mean?" she suddenly asked me, still holding my hands. She had stopped pulling me and lowered herself down to my level now, her face only inches from mine.

"Huh?" I noised, raising my chin up as her movements caused the water to slap over my lips.

"The other night," she began, and I felt my face heat up. "When you were drunk. You asked me—you asked me not to kiss you."

I looked away from her, pinning my eyes to the lines of the pool's floor that looked wavy from above the water. "I don't know."

"Don't lie to me," she flatly spoke, keeping her eyes on mine. "You said that someone else kissed you, and that it was bad. You said... she."

My heart started to swell painfully in my chest and throb, as if it were going to break right out and swim away from me. "I don't know what you're talking about, Jo. You were drunk, too."

I don't know why I lied to her, but when I turned my eyes back to her and saw the disappointed look on her face, I instantly regretted it.

"You're lying to me again," she whispered softly, unsteadily, looking at me as if I were holding a knife to her throat. "Just tell me."

It became hard to breathe, with her hands still holding mine, her face so close, her eyes, remembering that night I had briefly mentioned to her. I didn't want to ruin whatever streak we had going—I didn't want to go back to when she was being cruel and heartless to me. Even if we weren't friends, or she didn't consider me as one, I just wanted her to be nice to me. Every kind of attention she gave was in extreme—her dislike was terrifying, and her approval was elating. I didn't want to be anywhere away from her kindness.