Page 2 of Every Summer Since
It was one of those nights. Easy. Good vibes.
Cody stopped walking and tapped my chest with the back of his hand. His beer sloshed and spilled on my shirt. I frowned and smacked his hand down. “Use your words.”
“There she is,” Cody said. His attention tunneled on a beautiful young woman sitting with a couple of her friends, laughing at something one of them said. Her long hair hung over one shoulder, and when she spotted Cody, she patted the open spot on a piece of driftwood beside her. He started walking and spoke over his shoulder. “Don’t wait up.”
“I wasn’t going to,” I told him. “But go get her.”
Now unencumbered by my brother and his plans, I scanned the party, unsure what I was looking for. Nothing really. I didn’t have an agenda. There would be plenty of that when I had to go back to work. Schedules, meetings, agendas, high priority nonsense from every client I crossed paths with. There would be phone calls and negotiations about everything from how much water we could use to the cost of feed.
I had two days left to live it up. Maybe I should take a page out of Cody’s book. It would be easy enough to meet a girl tonight. All I had to do was flash her a smile and tell her my last name was Anderson.
I was just about to join the fun around the bonfire when something moved in my peripheral vision. I turned without thinking.
A quick shadow with long blonde hair hurtled down the beach away from the blaze. She wore a bikini top and jean shorts, and her toned legs carried her directly to the water. A tight knot formed in my throat as I watched her peel across the sand like her life depended on it.
Is she running from something? Or someone?
I turned quickly, sand kicking up around my feet, but nobody gave chase. The knot in my throat dropped to my chestand an uneasiness spread through my body that I recognized immediately. My body was ready to fight if it needed to.
But there was no threat.
Regardless, something was obviously wrong.
Her arms went out over her head and then she dove into the black water just before a wave broke over her.
Plenty of people went swimming at these parties. Usually it was after a couple shots and a dare, and they never entered the water likethat.
I heard it then. Over the music, laughter, and the conversation by the fire, came the faintest voice and splashing of water. Someone was in trouble out there in the midnight waves.Shit.
I searched the water and ignored my heartbeat pounding in my ears. The woman who’d run in head first was hard to spot, but I saw her arms windmilling as she swam further and further away from shore. I followed her trajectory, and there, about fifty or so feet from where she was, was the distinct frothy water of someone fighting for their life in the waves.
I dropped my beer in the sand and ran for the water right where I’d seen the woman go in. I plunged in, the water not cold but certainly colder than the night air. I came up for breath, the surf trying to carry me toward shore as I searched for blonde hair.
There!
I dove back under and swam against the waves, grateful for all the years of swimming in oceans around the world. I was a strong swimmer and it was a calm night. I dove under the waves where they broke, came back up, and oriented myself, continuing to push forward until I heard her voice.
“I’ve got you.” She had her arm around the upper torso of another figure that dwarfed her petite stature. She spoke calmly into their ear, asking them not to kick her as they frantically triednot to drown. She assured them she had them, that she wouldn’t let go, but that she needed their help to do so.
And then they were swallowed by another wave.
I swam harder and felt a foot. I grabbed it and pulled my body toward them.
The kid was big, probably two hundred pounds of dead weight. He couldn’t have been more than eighteen and he was completely panicked. His arms thrashed, grabbing her head and pushing her under the surface again.
“I got him!” I shouted, knowing I had the strength to get the kid to settle down. She coughed and sputtered. I moved behind the boy, wrapped one of my arms around his chest, and started kicking, dragging him with me. I used my hip under his spine to keep him above water while I dragged him, and he was able to suck in greedy gulps of air.
“Relax,” she said to the boy. “Float. We’ve got you. Catch your breath.”
The kid either listened or just ran out of steam because his body went limp. His head rested against my chest as I used one arm to propel myself through the water, letting the tide do most of the work.
As soon as I could touch sand, I stood. She took one of his arms and I grabbed the other, dragging the kid onto the beach a good ten feet away from the water.
She dropped to her knees beside him and rolled him onto his side. She slapped his back, not hard enough to really do anything, but it was the same move I’d seen mothers do.
“Come on,” she ordered. “Cough. Get it out.”
The kid jerked, gagged, and then puked up half the Pacific. I barely managed to jump out of the way before he spewed ocean water across the sand.
