Ten: Taking the Plunge Only Leads to One Thing... A Tidal Wave
“Get up.”
I am interrupted from my peaceful slumber by the force of a pile of clothes landing on top of me. Reluctantly, I wrench my eyes open and let the blinding sunlight gradually enter my pupils.
However, when I catch sight of the figure hovering above me, I completely forget about the prevention of sightlessness and pull the covers more tightly over me. “What are you doing here?!”
“I let myself in.” Blake shrugs, like it’s no big deal. I try not to let myself get caught up in the sight of those sapphire colored eyes which are just way too inviting. Seriously… that guy should wear sunglasses. How can he expect anyone around him to concentrate when those dark blue pools may be cast on them at any moment? “Now, get dressed.”
“Why?”
The cabin is empty, apart from myself and the unexpected visitor in the form of a Greek God. After my ‘traumatic day’ yesterday, the nurse (cue lesbian jokes) told me I should sit out of the activities of today. Apparently, Jake’s fists caused more damage than I was expecting, and I am now suffering from minor bruising around the areas where he beat me.
On the bright side, this earns me a relaxing day spent doing nothing in my cabin.
Until now.
“We’re going down to the lake,” Blake informs me. Before I can stop him, he is rifling through my case (which I still haven’t unpacked yet) and inspecting the suitability of the items of clothing inside it.
“Get out of there!” Immediately, I throw the covers off my body and jump out of bed. He may have seen my underwear once already, but there’s no need for a second viewing. Plus, I have other stuff in there I’m not exactly keen on him inspecting. “And didn’t you hear the nurse? I’m not going down to the lake. I’m excused. Remember?”
“I know that,” he says, his tone hinting at patronization. Suddenly, a bikini top is launched at my face. “You can wear that, right?”
“No!” I pull him away from the case, closing it and sitting on top, therefore rendering him unable to continue with his nosiness. The bikini top is clutched in my hand and I shoot him an exasperated look. “I’m not going down to the lake. Everyone else is there, and I’m excused.”
“We won’t go to that lake. We’ll go to the other one.”
“Why?”
“Because,” he says, rolling his eyes as if I am a small child, “I’m going to teach you how to swim. After the incident yesterday, it’s clear that you need to. Do you want to drown?”
I am unable to speak as his words process in my brain. He wants to teach me how to swim? No way. No way José. There is no way I am stripping off in front of Blake, just to make a fool out of myself in the water. I’d rather get into another fight with Jake before that happened.
“I don’t want to,” I say defiantly.
“Well, tough,” he says. “You have to learn how to swim. You can either get changed and follow me down there, or I’ll carry you. And throw you in wearing that.” He gestures towards my (totally embarrassing) PJs.
Oh my God. He’s really not going to give up on this, is he? As much as I don’t want to enter a freezing cold lake and directly face my fear of water, the thought of Blake as my teacher does make it that little bit more appealing. “Will you be in there too?” I ask cautiously, as an image of him shirtless crosses my mind. That would make it worth it.
“Yeah. Seriously, Bailey, it’ll be fine. You can start off easy.”
I take a deep breath, resisting the urge to grimace. “Okay… fine.”
An expression of triumph crosses Blake’s features. “Good. Now put that bikini top on.”
“I’m not wearing that!” I can already feel the blush seeping onto my cheeks. Being completely unblessed in the breast department only makes wearing a bikini that much more embarrassing – especially in front of Blake. Plus, the newly formed purple bruises on my stomach aren’t exactly the height of beauty, and I’m pretty sure the big breakfast I had yesterday has ballooned the size of my thighs.
“Why not?” Blake’s smirk has returned to his face.
“Because!” I say exasperatedly.
“Come on,” he says. “You’ve already shown me like half your underwear drawer.”
“I have not!” Oh my God, he is unbelievable. “That was Jake’s fault. And that doesn’t make me want to wear a bikini any more.”
“Now that’s not fair,” Blake says, smirking. “You’re getting to see me without a shirt on.”
I could repeat myself in saying that he is unbelievable, but this would be kind of hypocritical of me, especially since I had almost the exact same thought about thirty seconds ago. But come on, give me a break... Blake’s rock hard abs (yes, I have perfected my mental image to imagine what kind of muscles are hiding under his t-shirt) are hard not to think about. Or maybe that’s just me.
I ignore his comment and pull a t-shirt out of my case, along with a pair of shorts. At least they’ll cover up the least flattering parts of me, as well as provide me with at least some warmth in the probably Arctic temperatures of the lake.
“You need any help dressing?” Blake calls in an amused tone as I slip into the bathroom. “You know, since you’re injured and all that...”
“I think I can manage,” I tell him sarcastically, as the door closes behind me.
***
“Are you sure you want to swim in that?”
Blake looks down disapprovingly at my choice of attire, which includes a baggy white t-shirt that will not be leaving my body any time soon.
I nod determinedly. “Yup.”
“Suit yourself.” He shrugs, and then two seconds his shirt has been whipped over his head and dropped onto the ground below. I have to mentally remind myself to not show my surprise (and intense appreciation) of the toned abs that are hiding beneath.
Oh my God, he really does look like some kind of Abercrombie and Fitch model, though. I can’t believe this guy is actually standing in front of me, rather than under my wistful gaze on a color printed page. If Cindy wasn’t here, I might actually stand a chance of getting him to notice me. Maybe she’ll contract some mystery illness and be forced to return home...
“Bailey?”
“Huh?” I am zapped back to real life as soon as the sound of Blake’s voice greets my ears.
“I asked you if you were ready to go in. You were kind of staring into space, though, like all zoned out. Thinking about me?” he adds, with a self-satisfied smirk.
“No!”
Well, I couldn’t have made it any more obvious.
“Denial,” he says, shaking his head.
“Can we just get on with it?” I snap, eager to move on from this topic of conversation. Yeah, okay, I may spend almost eighty per cent of my time daydreaming about making out with him, but I’m not going to admit that to anyone (particularly not him) any time soon. Plus, I don’t want to do any ego inflating. His ego’s big enough already.
“Sure.”
Before I can even realize what’s happening, Blake has launched himself off dry ground and is diving effortlessly into the water below. As his straight body glides through the water, a short spray erupts from the point of collision, sending tiny transparent droplets flying in all directions. His shadow disappears underwater for a few seconds, before he resurfaces.
“Coming in?” he calls to me, as he shakes his wet hair that has since stuck to the sides of his head.
Oh my God. He looks even better with wet hair. If swimming means being given the opportunity to see Blake in all his aqueous glory, then I think I may just be able to get over my lifelong phobia of water.
With just a little coaching from the shirtless guy himself, of course.
“Uh...”
The prospect of being neck deep in the mass of clear liquid that lurks before me suddenly becomes a whole lot more daunting. The sun is reflecting off the surface, casting pleasant sparkles of light in various directions, but this still doesn’t make it any more appealing. Just because it looks pretty, doesn’t mean it wouldn’t drown me.
“Just jump in.” Blake’s coaxing voice is almost tempting, but the words ruin it for me. Jump in? Is he crazy? Not everyone can be an expert diver – especially not me. I doubt I could even manage a belly flop (despite the fact that there’s definitely enough belly on me to manage this). It’s not my fault if jumping into a lake of freezing water (which could probably contain billions of disease carrying bacteria) doesn’t appeal to me as much as sprinting back to my cabin and hiding under my covers does.
“I can’t!” I hiss. “I’m not going in there!”
“So you expect to learn to swim from standing up there?”
That doesn’t seem like such a bad idea. “Uh, yeah...”
Blake rolls his eyes, before swimming over in my direction. He holds out a hand to me, gesturing for me to follow him into the water.
Fat chance. Even if it does mean I get to hold his hand.
“Remember when I said I was scared of water?” I remind him. “That may just be why I’m kind of reluctant to dive in.”
“I’m not asking you to dive,” he states. “Come on. Just come in slowly. It’s really shallow here anyway, so you’ll still be able to touch the bottom.”
He is telling the truth. In the spot where his feet are situated, he is able to stay in a standing position while the water reaches no higher than his stomach. But then again, he is tall. And I’m not quite sure whether I’m ready to place the ultimate trust in my height.
“You’ll be fine,” he says soothingly. “Take my hand.”
“If I die, I’m holding you personally responsible,” I tell him through gritted teeth. However, I obey his instructions and slip my hand into his. I have to mentally slap myself to prevent me from fainting on the spot – which would, of course, inevitably lead to drowning. I should probably be glad that we’re not on dry land, as it least it helps me to sustain consciousness.
Blake leads me into the water slowly and when the water reaches above waist height, I am surprised that I haven’t started to scream yet. It laps around me, creating small ripples where my body serves as an obstruction in its path. “Am I swimming yet?” I query, still gripping tightly onto his hand.
“Not just yet.”
We venture a few steps further in. Chest height (I would say boob height but you know, nonexistent…). “What about now?”
“I don’t think it’s classed as swimming until you stop walking.”
“Great.”
I’m just standing here in the water, freezing my butt off. For some reason, the wind has suddenly picked up and is now blowing my hair around in odd directions. Just to add to my discomfort. I’ve come to the conclusion that Mother Nature just doesn’t like me. Why, though? It’s not like I did anything to her.
“Uh… the girl who doesn’t know how to swim, here. Remember?”
Blake just grins at me. If he wasn’t so freaking gorgeous, it’d be a lot easier to stay irritated with him. “It would help if you actually got under the water.”
My gaze falls on the lake water, which just reaches my chest. Call me crazy, but it just doesn’t look… inviting. Well, not as inviting as the blanket and cup of hot chocolate beckoning me from my cabin, anyway. “I’m not putting my shoulders under.”
“Then how do you expect to swim?”
“I just won’t learn. It’s not like I need to,” I say quickly. Perfect solution. Although I have a funny feeling Blake won’t agree with me. Why is he so determined to teach me, anyway? Just because I’m at a summer camp which happens to have three lakes, doesn’t mean I have to go in them. I’d be perfectly happy sat at the edge, on a lounger, sipping exotic cocktails brought to me by shirtless clones of Blake.
Seems like a perfectly reasonable request.
“I’m teaching you whether you like it or not.” He moves closer to me in the water. “Just come in a bit deeper and put your shoulders under. You won’t drown. I’m right here, anyway.”
As reassuring as his voice sounds, my rational side seems to be speaking a lot more sense. And that particular side is shouting at me to get the hell out of this water and run back to safety (i.e. Forte Cabin).
Should I listen to myself, or the incredibly hot guy in front of me?
“Fine,” I respond, inhaling slowly and deeply. This kind of bravery requires intense physical and mental preparation – which may take me a while to summon. After I decide I am satisfied with my preparation technique… I go for it. “Oh my God, it’s cold!”
The water rushes over my shoulders immediately, blessing my skin with its unnaturally cold temperature. Seriously, how do people do this for fun? How do people manage it without dying of hypothermia?
Oh yeah, because usually people swim in a pleasantly tepid indoor pool, instead of a lake in the middle of nowhere.
Blake just laughs. “I didn’t promise you a Jacuzzi.”
“Just hurry up and teach me so I can get out of here.”
I know it seems like I’m being a bitch, but this water is freaking cold. If I don’t get out of here soon, I swear, my butt is going to end up in an ice cube (isn’t that what always happens in cartoons? Well, with how the temperature’s feeling now, it doesn’t seem impossible) if I don’t develop fish-like swimming abilities and get back onto dry land in the next two minutes.
Still, I should’ve known. Nothing ever goes to plan when I’m involved, does it?
He takes both of my hands in his and orders me to start kicking my legs. I feel completely stupid and incredibly paranoid of sinking to the bottom if I attempt this, but I obey. Unfortunately, my leading try fails miserably and all that is achieved is a great spraying of water over me and Blake.
“See? I can’t do it,” I mumble, making sure to schedule my words correctly so my mouth stays water-free.
“Don’t give up so easily. Try again.”
His hand squeezes mine, inevitably causing my heart to do a somersault which I try my best to ignore. I’m not an expert, but I’m under the impression that having a panic attack whilst attempting to swim can only end in disaster. Just a feeling.
Despite knowing that I’m going to completely fail again, I grip Blake’s wet hands a little tighter and restart the whole kicking routine (even though I’m well aware I look like a complete and utter idiot, but hey, what’s new?). The same amount of water spray goes flying into the air, but this time I sustain it. My body begins to float and after a few seconds, I can feel it being propelled (albeit painfully slowly) forwards.
“Oh my God, Blake! I’m doing it!”
His contented grin serves as his response as he ventures a little deeper into the water, bringing me along with him. A twinge of worry crosses my mind but soon evaporates when I realize that as long as I keep my legs in alternate movement, I won’t sink to the bottom. Quite the revelation, huh?
“I’m going to let go of your hands now, okay?”
“What?!” The strangled words leave my mouth too quickly, providing ample opportunity for a mouthful of water to force its way down my throat. A coughing fit soon follows, which in turn makes me forget about using my legs to keep afloat.
And cue a second round of drowning.
“Blake!”
In a matter of seconds, I am greeted by the feeling of two strong arms wrapping around me, pulling me gently in the direction of the bank (déjà vu?!). My esophagus still feels raw from the cold lake water which has been forced down it and the overwhelming urge to break into another violent coughing fit is beginning to take over. I grip tighter onto Blake’s hand, which are still clasped around mine, as shivering from coldness and panic starts to set in. Oh my God... why did I agree to this? See, this is the precise reason why I don’t like swimming. Who could possibly enjoy the choking feeling of water being forced down where only air is permitted? The only answer I can think of is crazy people.
When he climbs back onto dry land, I am still clinging onto him for dear life. I don’t realize the awkward position we are in until the mask of water is removed from us. My arms are now thrown around his neck and I am hanging off him awkwardly.
He sits on the grass and looks at me expectantly. Immediately I remove my arms, blushing furiously. That was not my fault. I wasn’t paying attention to which part of him I was grabbing – I was just concentrating on staying alive.
“Sorry I’m such a slow learner,” I mumble. “And sorry for panicking...”
“Bailey, it’s okay,” he says. “You can’t expect to learn to swim instantly. Plus, it was only a natural reflex since you swallowed a whole lot of water. It’s fine.”
My gaze averts to the floor. “I feel stupid.”
“Don’t.”
“But I do.”
“Your shirt is see through.”
Immediately, my neck snaps downwards to inspect the transparency of the t-shirt I am wearing. To my embarrassment, he’s correct. In hindsight, it probably was a bad idea to wear a bright purple bikini top underneath a plain white tee.
Especially for swimming.
“I-”
I am unable to finish my answer, due to being rendered speechless at the sensation of Blake pressing his lips against mine.
Blake is kissing me?!
-----------------------------
How about that for a nice cliffhanger before Christmas? Yes, so Merry Christmas Eve everybody! It's sad that I'm not even that excited, although I'm going to go watch Elf later which may put me in the Christmas mood :P So yeah, have a good one and remember to vote!