Scene Twenty-Five II: Brandon

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Above me, I hear Astrid begin to cough, blessed sound that it is. Then she begins to cry out in pain.

"Astrid, I'm coming!" Fisting the raft material, I push myself upward- only to get kicked in the temple.

"Astrid!" I cry, losing my grip and falling backward, into the waiting claws of the water.e

Too late, I realize I should have closed my mouth instead of yelling. Then I choke as the water comes into it, into my lungs.

Just as I think the ocean is going to claim me after all, a pair of frail hands grab hold of my wrists and tug me up.

Gasping and choking at once, I roll into the boat, and find myself staring up at Astrid's concerned face.

I reach up and pat it, just to make sure she's really there. That I'm really here.

"Are you well?" Astrid asks, droplets of water dripping off her face like tears, only they came from the ocean rather than her own sadness.

"Am I well?" Groaning, I push myself up into a sitting position. "Are you well?"

She nods solemnly before glancing down to where her legs are carefully folded beneath her, like she wanted to make sure she had them or something.

Laughing dryly, I lean back gingerly. "You know, Astrid. I think fate is trying to tell us something."

"What?" She blinks at me slowly, her eyelashes seeming longer than ever now that they're wet.

"Maybe we should stay away from the ocean."

"What? No!" The sheer horror in Astrid's tone shakes me to my core, and it's my turn to blink slowly.

Her cheeks color slightly, but it's a strange contrast to sallowness of the rest of her skin. Whether Astrid is pale because of our recent trauma or because the thought of being parted with the ocean is too terrible to her, I don't know.

"I'm sorry," Astrid whispers, ducking her head. "But it's not the ocean's fault that these things happen. There are other forces at play here."

"Other forces?" I furrow my brows. "What on earth are you talking about? I should blame the weather, too?"

"No," Astrid counters before opening her mouth as if to elaborate. But only a squeak comes out. She tries to speak again, but only more strangled noises.

Frowning, she runs touches her throat, as if Astrid can somehow dislodge her words by doing so.

I reach toward her and touch her hand. "Astrid?"

"I'm... sorry." Lifting her chin, she glances beyond me. "Oh, look, your friends."

Lifting my head, I see that my boat is indeed, heading our ways.

Relief washes over me with the thought of going home and getting to lie in bed and sleep this whole ordeal off. But it's mixed with a bit of regret that Astrid and I have to go back to pretending, and that we can't talk openly.

As if she can sense my emotions, Astrid leans onto me, wrapping her arms around her waist, and rests her head on my shoulder.

And so we wait together.

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