Page 50 of Where Your Scars Meet Mine
The question should be easy.
Instead, my fingers catch at the waistband of my jeans, staying there for a second too long. The music from inside bleeds faintly into the yard, bass thumping through the walls, while outside everyone seems to exist in this effortless world where bodies are just bodies and no one thinks twice before showing skin.
That has never been my world.
The denim slides down my legs slowly, hesitation stitched into every movement. The second the jeans hit the ground, my arms wrap instinctively around my waist, crossing over myself before I even think about it. My shirt stays on. It is black, fitted enough to cling slightly, the only thing beneath it now a pair of simple black underwear that suddenly feel far too revealing under all of these lights.
The cold air licks over my bare legs, raising goosebumps instantly.
Scars I can usually keep hidden suddenly feel bolder even when they are not fully visible. A few pale lines near my hips, others ghosting faintly along the skin my shirt doesn’t quite cover when I breathe too deep. My hands tighten where they hold me.
Cheyenne notices first.
“Oh my God, Octavia, you look hot. Get in,” she calls from the water, treading backward while Maria laughs beside her.
Maria pushes wet hair from her face and grins. “Seriously. No one is looking at your outfit choices right now...except maybe Kadin.”
That only makes the heat in my cheeks worse.
Kadin, to his credit, doesn’t stare. His eyes flick over me only briefly before settling back on my face. The restraint in that somehow feels kinder than if he had looked away too fast.
“You can keep the shirt on,” he says easily, stepping closer to the edge of the pool. “No one cares.”
The words should be comforting. The way he says them almost is.
More people begin filtering outside, carrying drinks, laughing too loudly, drawn by the commotion. A couple of girls strip down to bras and shorts by the door without a second thought. Some guy is already hyping himself up for a running jump. The crowd grows, but in my mind the space only narrows.
My eyes move through the yard without meaning to, scanning faces, shoulders, silhouettes.
No Silas.
The absence hits strangely. It should make this easier. It should let me breathe.
Instead, it leaves this restless little tension under my skin, like I am waiting for something without wanting to admit it.
Kadin crouches by the edge of the pool now, still watching me with quiet patience. Water from Cheyenne’s splash dampens hishair, but he doesn’t seem to notice. There is something unfairly attractive about the casual ease of him like this, half-lit by the pool, smiling at me as if he has decided there is nowhere else he would rather be.
Cheyenne splashes water toward the edge. “If you don’t jump in right now, I’m coming out there to drag you.”
“You’ll break your neck trying,” I shoot back, though the laugh that follows sounds thinner than I want it to.
Maria’s grin widens. “Then Kadin can save both of you. Everybody wins.”
My arms remain wrapped around my middle, as I step a little closer to the water. The concrete beneath my feet is cold, the pool glowing beneath the surface like some invitation I am not sure I know how to accept.
Kadin straightens slightly, his eyes still on mine.
“You don’t have to dive,” he says. “You could just sit on the edge first.”
Cheyenne groans dramatically. “No, that is coward behavior. She needs to jump.”
“Some of us like building anticipation,” Maria says, earning a splash to the face for her comment.
Their laughter takes some of the pressure off. Not all of it, but enough that my breathing evens out a little.
My arms loosen just slightly from around my waist, not fully, but enough to stop crushing myself. The water ripples under the lights while everyone waits to see what I will do. Somewhere between the cold on my skin and the heat still lingering low in my cheeks, I can feel the whole night balancing on this stupid little moment.
The decision happens before I can overthink it into ruin.
