TEN
I slide into the water, fully aware of just how nervous Levan is. I take my time to let my skin absorb the water splashing around me as I swim a lap on my back to the other end of the clear blue. I register Sky Ferreira starting to croon about a sad dream somewhere near where Levan is sitting as I dolphin back to him.
I pop out of the water before I'm even halfway through. I take in a deep breath and laugh at myself. And here I thought I could still pull swimming off like I did. I tread the rest of my way to Levan, giving my lungs the air they beg. Levan watches me with wide eyes from behind his goggles. His skin is so pale you'd think he's about to pass out. All of which tells me that he must have an issue with swimming.
But given that he hasn't even swum, I take it as beginner's jitters. I offer him my hand when I'm at the edge.
"The water is safe for swimming, no sharks, no slippery seaweed, all safe and sound. So come on..." I say to him. But even though I thought that was really funny, he doesn't smile. Why does it feel like it's been forever since he did that? "Come on, Levan," I say again. He blinks at me, before taking my hand and sliding in too.
At first, Levan is slowly going under and then all of a sudden he's splashing water everywhere, struggling to stay on the surface. But I stand back and watch him, I need him to take his time and adapt to the water, to mix right in. For he's blue, it shouldn't take him long.
He only corks to the surface for microseconds before going back under, his arms lunging for air. I swim to him again and grab both of his hands.
"Stay calm, let go, remember?" I remind him what I'd told him only a few minutes ago. He tries to get a grip and cuts down most of his motion, I tighten my grip on him and help him stay afloat.
When his face is out of the water, I notice that it's flushed yet pale. I snicker at him.
"It's not funny, I almost drowned," he says bitterly as he sucks in a chain of deep breaths.
"I'll never let you drown Levan. Ever, ever, Never," I tell him. Then we're eye to eye for several seconds. It's as if he's tattooing my words inside his brain and I know, in that moment, that we aren't sane. We never were. I see his nervousness evaporate. I see it in color. In shades of brown and gray.
And god help me, I want to kiss him again, but I'm too afraid. Because what if he forgets it like he did last time? What if he walks away and never comes back? If that happens again, it would knock me to the ground. So I wash the lump in my throat down with chlorine and water as I let both his hands go. He watches me swim away. I watch him float.
***
"How's your book going?" I ask Levan, pulling myself out of the pool. "Any progress on it?" We've been floating for more than half an hour now. I'm sure we floated more than we swam, saying nothing as we stared up and out through the glass ceiling of the pool.
I'm also sure I'm a bad coach. Damn, I can never be a teacher like I planned. And god, did I plan it well. I grump at that thought as I produce a towel from my bag and run it across my arms, neck and face. I don't want to admit it, but I do feel drained.
Levan realizes how effortlessly he was floating up until now and starts to frown at the water around him. I giggle at his reaction. He notices me laughing at him, so he starts to swim to me clumsily. Levan emerges out of the pool a little more confident than he entered it. I throw my towel at his face when he sits down safely.
"Any new clichés?" I ask him.
"Um, I was wondering about the climax. Normally, in books, secrets are revealed, things get to their ugliest stage, there's some kind of heartbreak, someone dies," he tells me, running the towel through his hair. "What do we do with that? How do we not make it cliché?" he asks.
Well first, I'm goofily smiling at him because he's not awkward at the moment, and god, he's always awkward, so taut, so stiff. Second, I'm also glad that he's asking for my opinion on it. Is it weird that I want to start singing fucking opera right now?
My second medal, it just got closer. I can almost lick its gold. It's as if he's ready to shed his skin for me. But is he?
"Well, what if there are no secrets between Six and Seven?" I suggest. He looks at me, putting the towel down on the wet floor as he frowns.
"What do you mean?" he questions, turning completely to me.
"Well, we discussed that both of them are perfectly happy with their lives right? So they must have no secrets to haunt them," I say. His eyes zone away from me and focus on the water. "What if they're completely at peace with what could become secrets later on?"
"So they're completely okay with potential secrets..." he mutters.
"They don't wait for apocalypse to hit them, so they reveal them as soon as they're comfortable, simple," I tell him.
"You do have a point," he says, his eyes gleaming as they reflect the water.
"I always do," I tell him, dramatically flipping my hair. He looks up at me and there is it, the smile I've waited for. The eye-mooning, fang-showing, turning-the-air-blue smile.
"You're so full of yourself, aren't you?" he asks me. I laugh with him.
"Well, all I can say is that I don't look down on myself. But Levan," I say, chewing on my bottom lip, "do you...have any potential secrets?" I ask him. It doesn't even take him a full second to go from bright Levan, to go-home-I-might Levan. He goes back to staring into the pool, the pool we turned golden blue. I'm obsessed with it, what a hue.
"No," he says. I nod, but I can't shake the ghost that keeps telling me that Levan is a liar. Levan, Levan, Levan, liar, Levan, liar. It sounds like a synonym to his name if you say it like that. "Do you?" he asks me, lips pressed into a thin line.
"Oh I do," I tell him. I'm sure he expected me to lie too. But little does he know, I don't follow the rules. And I don't just break them, I slay them. Ten the rule slayer, I shall be called.
His eyes strike back to mine wide and lacking their shine. "Well, it's not technically a secret; I tell everyone who asks and everyone I want to," I say, shrugging.
"Well, what is it?" he asks me, his voice small and heavy. Almost humid.
"Uh, I don't know how to start," I realize and start to think, "so, over a year ago, we found out that my lungs are crap for lungs," I tell him.
The way I usually do it is just break it to them, but I want Levan to absorb it. He's a little fragile looking, the handle-with-care kind. Why do I feel as if he can't take shockers? Well, I'm probably just overreacting, maybe he's already guessed it. It's so obvious.
"I came home after running track and I couldn't sleep at night, I couldn't breathe. I thought it was temporary, but it stuck for hours, and finally when I thought it was serious, I told my parents, we went to the hospital and voila! They told me I have an ugly case of asthma," I say, "it's like asthma but way nasty."
Levan stares at me, his lips parting as his eyes scan me. I swallow, well this turned out to be more awkward than I thought it would. So I scoot over and grab my dress from near my bag and shrug it on.
"That's why you're not on the swim team anymore?" he asks me. I nod.
"Yup,"
"But I see you running before school starts," he blurts. I narrow my eyes at him, he pales, "I –I mean, uh, you still run. Why?" He steals his eyes away then, focusing on the water.
"So you're stalking me now?" I ask him, trying to act offended. He squares his shoulder and starts to explain.
"It was accidental, I swear," he tells me. I try hard not to laugh, but here goes one for Levan. All this time, where has this one been?
"I'm kidding Number Eleven, calm down," I tell him, putting a hand on his shoulder. He tries to sigh but I see him failing.
Sigh, Levan. It's not so bad to breathe; in fact, it's amazing.
"Ugh, so I was told to not run or swim or get too excited," I tell him, "be calm Ten, don't talk Ten, don't laugh Ten. I was practically asked to stay inside my house and rot for the rest of my life. I wondered if someone stole my healthy lungs overnight and replaced them with plastic bags," I roll my eyes. I'm pretty sure I sound more frustrated than I actually am.
Levan watches me blankly. I'm surprised he's not frowning.
"You know me right? Do I look I could stay inside four walls forever?" I ask him. He seemingly jerks back to life. Was he even listening to me all this time?
"Definitely not," he blurts again. Damn, he's amusing me. Am I dreaming this whole day?
"Exactly," I say, "so I gave up, and participated in the musical like every year. Everything was fine, no one had any objection with my singing. But then I passed out mid-performance," I tell him and immediately press my lips together. It's still my most embarrassing moment.
"That's why your mother won't let you participate?" he asks.
"Yep," I nod, "but that's when all hell broke loose. I was in the hospital for almost a week. Mom became an overreacting, over protective freak, dad wasn't himself anymore, he got sick of taking care of a manic and his sick daughter," I tell him, frowning at how I don't get it still. But it's okay. "They got a divorce eight months ago. And I decided to not stay inside the house another day."
Levan looks into my eyes unlike most people do when I tell them this. He doesn't feel the sympathy others feel with me. He looks at me, as if I'm both sane and crazy.
"But what will this get you, all these plans and adventures? They're not any good for you..." he says. I wrinkle my nose as I nod.
"I know," I agree, "but Levan, I don't want to be the girl who stayed forever scared. The girl who didn't taste life because doctors said she shouldn't. I want to do things that defy me, things that revive me, because what are we if we don't push our limits?" I say. Levan looks away and swallows hard. I wonder if I'm making him uncomfortable, so I decide to end this tell-all that I just turned into a little speech. I swear I lose track of my words sometimes.
"But even if my lungs limit me, I'm not going to stop, Levan," I tell him, "I want life." His eyes meet mine and maybe I'm imagining it, but he starts to break the walls he's built around him.
Why won't you come out, Levan? Why won't you breathe?
He takes a deep breath and it's like I breathe right with him. My brain starts to function again. His shoulders fall, his face is a pale moon. I wonder and wonder and wonder if I said something that seeped into his skin. But I can only imagine it did, for I may never know.
He gulps and gulps, I see his blue words floating in his blue mouth, flooding it. Let them out. I wish he'd let them all out. I wish he'd tell me why he never steps out, why he's all shades blue and what his scars are about.
"You're not dying, Ten...are you?" he asks me. I blink at him but not quite. Levan, you're so. So pure, you're more, like heaven. I take a deep breath and then smile, shaking my head at him.
"No, silly," I tell him. He sighs, relief flooding across his face, "I'm living."