Page 176 of Wayfarers

“Me too. She seems to prefer this kind of toxic positivity—that’s a phrase I got from some fashion magazine—where she’s always talking about what a work of art in progress she is, which is how she justifies the swath she cuts through her relationships.”

Sylvie, whose back has been to me, turns to face me, only the luminescent white of her face visible above the water. “Speaking of getting help? If you ever get a chance to talk to someone, like professionally, about all this, promise me you’ll take it. No matter how you were taught.”

“I feel like I’ve just sort of learned to deal with it all as what life handed me.”

“I know but still. There’s help. You don’t have to grit your teeth and bear it. You can heal from wounds you don’t even know you have. Promise me.”

“I promise,” I say quietly, because I’m scared, but also determined to keep my promise and try Sylvie’s way. The ways I was taught sure don’t seem to work well in many arenas—maybe this is the same. “Hey, this is a fun first skinny-dipping conversation. I cannot believe this is what we’re talking about while we’re both fully naked.”

“Emotionally and otherwise. We sure have gotten comfortable with each other, huh.”

Sylvie

“I’m realizing that I don’t really know how to get out of this spring.”

Knox’s knees are still up against his chest. “Well,” he says slowly, “I think you could probably just walk back the way you came.”

I flick water at him, and he ducks, grinning. “I’m serious! Do I ask you to turn around?”

“Depends.”

“Depends on what?”

“If you have a bowl of soup you need me to eat one-handed.”

“You are a comic legend,” I tell him. “Really. No one has ever been funnier.”

“So we’re being literal, then? All it depends on is whether you want me to watch you get out.”

My ears are hot. “Do you have eyes on the back of your head?”

“Sure don’t.”

“Why else would I ask you to turn around, then?”

“I thought we still were talking about the hypothetical. You haven’t asked me yet. You’re asking me if you should ask me to turn around. I’m laying out the scenarios.”

“You’re a real visionary.”

“A forward thinker.”

“Honestly this is starting to feel like the kind of logic problem in math class that I’d need to watch a YouTube video on.” I sink lower in the water until it covers my chin, my hair spiraling out around me in corkscrews.

“Am I making you nervous?” He’s genuinely concerned.

“Maybe a little,” I allow.

“Honey, I’m not going to do anything you don’t want me to do. I promise you.”

This isn’t helping. Now I am thinking of all the things I want him to do.

“You look like a shark attack.”

I slink a little closer, so that this time when I splash him it hits him dead in the face. Winslow gets a little too, and does a machine-gun collar shake.

“Hey!” Knox says. “I thought we were trying not to get me wet.”

“I’ve walked out and back, and it’s only about three feet deep the whole time. A little mucky, but you won’t slip. I think you’d be fine.”