Above Water ✔️

6 - if it walks and talks like a cat

One week in.

It wasn't so bad. I spent a lot of time sleeping and reading, much thanks to Erick's family's small library in the living room. I had avoided any conflict with anybody and kept to myself. None of my friends had tried to force me into any of the activities, which was also pretty great.

Great things often didn't last. At least, in my experience.

Dallas and I had somewhat acclimated to sharing a space. The only thing was . . . well, he was kind of a slob. I never expected it because he seemed so clean cut, but he was awful at keeping his space tidy.

He would leave his clothes strewn about the floor and let water cups–disposable water cups–pile up on our shared nightstand. I just didn't get it. Why was it so hard to clean up after yourself? I kept my side very straight. My clean clothes put away, dirty in a basket on the floor, my bed relatively made. It put me at ease when I walked into an already clean room. That was impossible with Hurricane Dallas on the left side.

It was fine though. I was fine.

Most nights I would end up just taking my dinner to the bedroom and eating while watching something on my phone. I didn't mind, it was no different to life at home. I ate alone, I slept alone, I was alone.

Dallas would be gone before I woke up and I wouldn't see him until around dinner time or later. I avoided Frasier by all costs. The boys would come into the room and harass me on occasion, but only for light conversation.

One of those days I was planning to go outside and lay by the pool. That day was today.

I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror. I hated how I looked in a swimsuit. My pale skin protruded at the hips where the elastic waistband of the baby blue trunks I'd bought for this vacation. I thought they were cute, on my shopping spree from Old Navy. They were decorated with tiny little yellow flowers.

But the more I stared at myself, the more I wanted to take them off and go back to bed.

Most of the house was out right now anyways. Erick said the ladies wanted to go to the mall and dragged their partners along with them. As far as I knew, I was alone. I wasn't sure, though, since I hadn't left my room yet today.

I sucked up my insecurities and grabbed a towel before heading downstairs. The house was eerily quiet without the kids running around. Erick's daughter Aubrey wasn't the only one. Grace also had a baby girl and a son around Aubrey's age named Bryce. And Chris had a son named Jeremiah. It was never quiet.

There was a half-full bottle of champagne on the counter, presumably from that morning's mimosa indulgence. I grabbed it without a second thought and stepped out onto the back balcony.

I took a moment to take in the view. It really was beautiful here. I was standing at one of the hundreds of houses along the beachside. Below me was a grand pool, large with stunning blue tiling. If I stared straight across, I would be making eye contact with the sea. I avoided doing so.

The ocean made me feel uneasy. I had always been afraid of it, in a sense, much unlike my classmates growing up. The closest we were to the ocean was Coney Island and that wasn't much of an experience. I had nearly drowned in those waters when I was seven and didn't dare dip a toe in one again.

Separating me and the ocean, of course, was a plane of hot, white sand and tall dunes. I liked the privacy that the tall grass supplied.

"I could stare at it all day."

I jumped out of my skin. Beside me was Dallas, sitting  in one of the rocking chairs on the porch. He had a book in his hands, one with a thick spine and thousands of words per spread. A law book, perhaps.