Chapter 7: Sinking

The air in Key West was thick and humid, the heat making everyone irritable.

The sun beat down on the pool deck, the scent of sunscreen and coconut in the air. The hotel’s speakers played Jimmy Buffett, and every few minutes, someone would cannonball into the water, sending up a wave of laughter. I kept to the shade, sipping a flat Diet Coke, wishing I could disappear.

Natalie paraded in a lace swimsuit, pressing herself against Derek, her curves on full display.

She laughed too loud, sunglasses perched on her head like a crown. Derek ate up the attention, his eyes never leaving her. I felt like an extra in someone else’s movie—only noticed when I got in the way.

I was afraid of water, so I lay on the shore, pretending to feel unwell.

I wrapped a towel around my shoulders, knees pulled to my chest. The pool glistened, but all I saw was danger. I checked my phone, pretending I had somewhere to be. No one noticed.

"Megan, aren’t you coming in?" Natalie tilted her head, all fake innocence.

Her voice was sugary sweet, masking the edge underneath. She knew exactly why I stayed away, but she played dumb, drawing attention to my fear. The other guests glanced over, curiosity in their eyes.

"Still mad about that little thing from before? It was just a joke."

She pouted, whining to Derek, "Derek, should I get down on my knees and apologize to her?"

Her words dripped with sarcasm, every syllable meant to sting. She shot me a look that said, Get over it, like years of bullying could be brushed away with a laugh.

I couldn’t be bothered to play along. I turned to leave, but my wrist was caught in an iron grip.

Derek’s fingers dug into my skin, pulling me back. His grip was possessive, leaving no room for argument. The sun reflected off his sunglasses, making it impossible to read his eyes.

"Natalie’s inviting you so nicely. Don’t play hard to get—go swim with her."

His voice was light, but there was steel underneath. He wanted me to obey, to be the good little toy. I dug my heels into the sand, refusing to move.

Derek dragged me to the pool’s edge, ignoring my struggles.

He didn’t care if I protested, didn’t care if people stared. He was used to getting his way. My heart raced, panic rising in my chest.

When I fought back harder, he lost patience, hoisted me onto his shoulder, and tossed me straight into the water.

The world tilted, and then I was falling. The splash echoed, water closing over my head. For a moment, everything was quiet. Then panic set in, cold and sharp.

Chlorine stung my nose, the Florida sun beating down on my back. I could hear Jimmy Buffett playing from a speaker, laughter echoing as I tried not to drown.

The icy water rushed into my nose, suffocating me and dragging me back to that swimming lesson years ago.

Memories crashed over me—the smell of chlorine, the sound of laughter, the sting of blood in the water. I kicked and thrashed, desperate for air. My lungs burned.

Derek had done the same thing then.

He’d thought it was funny, a joke to share with his friends. But for me, it was terror—pure and simple. The memory haunted me, a shadow I couldn’t shake.

He threw me—bleeding—into the pool like trash.

My swimsuit clung to my skin, blood trickling down my leg. The water turned pink, everyone staring. No one helped. I clung to the edge, shivering, too afraid to climb out.

Everyone stood on the deck, arms folded, laughing as I flailed like a dying bird.

Their laughter was cruel, echoing off the concrete. I wanted to disappear, to melt into the water and never come back. I kept my eyes on the tiles, refusing to look at anyone.

Someone shouted, "Why is she bleeding?"

Derek scowled in disgust. "She’s dirtying the pool—gross."

His words cut deeper than pain. I felt dirty, ashamed. I wanted to curl up and disappear. The lifeguard just shrugged, looking the other way.

Back then, I shivered from the cold, clinging to the edge, too afraid to climb out without his permission.

I waited for someone to say it was okay, but no one did. I stayed in the water until my lips turned blue, until the sun dipped below the horizon.

But this time, I just let myself sink, losing the strength to fight back…

The water closed over my head, muffling the sounds of laughter and music. For a moment, I felt weightless, free. I wondered what it would be like to never come up again.

Just as darkness was about to swallow me, someone grabbed my waist and hauled me to the surface.

Strong arms pulled me up, breaking the surface with a gasp. I coughed and sputtered, lungs burning. The sunlight was blinding, and I blinked away tears.

"What the hell are you doing?"

The boy from my dreams never came.

Only Derek, face dark with rage, cursing at me.

He hauled me out of the pool, shaking with anger. His hands trembled as he checked me over, but his words were harsh, unforgiving. I wished, for a moment, that someone else had saved me—anyone but him.

"Are you trying to fucking die?" He pinned me against the pool wall, panic clear in his eyes.

His grip was tight, almost painful. For the first time, I saw fear in his eyes—real, raw fear. It made me wonder if he actually cared, or if he was just afraid of losing control.

"Isn’t that what you want? For me to die? As you wish."

My voice, raw from choking, came out hoarse.

I glared at him, daring him to deny it. My chest heaved, water dripping down my face. I refused to let him see me cry.

His pupils shrank. He opened his mouth, but couldn’t say a word.

For once, he was speechless. I saw something flicker—regret, maybe, or guilt. But it didn’t matter. The damage was already done.