Page 14 of Dirty Liars
The comment draws snickers from some of the other boys as I walk away. Wills’ cheeks turn pink and his eyes storm at me when I glance back over my shoulder at him. I think that means we’re even now.
The teacher shows up and starts pairing everyone off for our first sailing lesson right away. He takes one look at Wills and the other boys horsing around on the beach and isn’t having any of it. He’s got them split up with new partners faster than any of them can protest—and no surprise, he pairs me up with Wills.
Make sure the new girl doesn’t drown on her first day by pairing her with the swim captain. I guess it makes sense … if the person who’s supposed to take care of me doesn’t already have a problem with me. The carefree look on Wills’ face hardens as he shoves a life preserver into my arms. His hands stay clenched to the padding for a moment longer than necessary as he stares me down, willing me without words to try and test him.
As bitter as we are to be sailing partners, Will’s friends seem to have a very different idea about the pair. They keep patting Wills on the butt and winking at me as they pass by on the way to the tiny fleet of sailboats.
Wills hops sure-footedly into the tiny, bobbing boat and immediately starts tying things off. He doesn’t offer to help me in after him, even when it takes me three attempts to find the best way to step down without flashing my underwear under my school uniform. He just glances my way and grunts when the boat tilts under my weight. He’s not going to make this easy.
I try to follow along with the instructor, but Wills is already many steps ahead. He’s already anxiously waiting for the order to untie the boats from the dock while the teacher is still explaining to another girl thatyes, she must wear her lifejacket even though it clashes with her uniform.
I tug at the straps on my own jacket. Wills still has his slung over one shoulder, but the teacher says nothing when he passes by. Finally, Wills can wait no longer.
I barely have time to grab onto the side of the boat before it shoots away from the side of the dock, propelled by a powerful kick.
“What are you—"
I’m cut off as Wills barrels past me, pushing me out of the way to make some adjustments to the sails.
The teacher turns back and starts running back towards us, his arms waving over his head. By the time he’s reached the place where our boat was moored, we’re already nearly out of earshot.
The wind whips my hair across my face in stinging tendrils, and little bouts of spray pelt my face with every dip in the water. Wills starts shouting at me to pull this or tighten that, but no matter how quickly I do it I’m apparently never fast enough. It would be exhilarating if he wasn’t constantly swearing and moving over to redo something I apparently did wrong.
Eventually, I just throw up my hands and go to sit in the middle of the boat as out of the way as possible.
The shore has started slipping away. Soon it’s just a tiny dark line across the horizon.
Wills is so focused on sailing that he soon forgets me entirely. His eyes scan the skyline with a laser-focus that’s a lot more attractive when it isn’t looking for my shortcomings.
I close my eyes for a bit and lose myself in the motion of the boat. It’s calming and methodical until, with a sudden gust of wind, it isn’t.
I’ve never felt a storm blow in so fast.
The lake, glassy and smooth just moments before, suddenly rages around us. A wave slaps against the side of the boat, sending a massive spray of water up into Will’s face and blinding him.
Part of the sail whips around and nearly hits me in the face, but I manage to duck and grab onto some of the lines for support. It was the wrong move.
The boat tilts sharply to the side, ripping the rigging from my hands. Something snaps overhead and suddenly ropes and splintered wood are raining down on me. I duck and cover my head, sending the boat heaving to the other side.
Wills is screaming at me, but I can only hear part of what he’s saying. He lets go of the rudder and reaches out to me with one arm, the other pointing at something in the water behind me.
I feel the swell reach me before he does.
The spray and rain has become so thick that I don’t realize I’m falling in until salty water is rushing into my lungs and burning my eyes. I must have hit my head on something while falling, because a searing pain has sprouted at my temple. I’m disoriented for a moment—lost once again in the swirl of water around me.
Then I come to my senses. I kick my feet hard and push my face up out of the water, gasping for breath, only to get washed over with another wave. The boat is nowhere in sight. Beneath the surface, all I see is dark water and bubbles. Above, just a haze of grey rain.
I’ve swallowed more water than air, and I’m not sure that I’m going to live through this when I feel something clamp onto the shoulder of my lifejacket. I’m hauled up out of the water like a fish on a line dragged onto what’s left of the deck of the boat.
Wills crouches over me, his hunched body blocking the rain from hitting my face. The other hand does that job for it, tapping my cheeks until I open my eyes and blink up at him.
“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” he hollers at me. He glares furiously at my face, and then closes his eyes and shakes his head. I just half roll over and spit up a lung full of water.
Just as I catch my breath, I see him reach for the bottom of his shirt and pull it up over his torso and head. As quickly as the storm rolled in, it dissipates. The clouds start to part overhead and the lake, one moment before a storm-tossed-sea, goes still.
Wills looks like a Greek god; he’s exquisitely chiseled, and it stuns me for a second, staring at him as he leans close to me.
“I can’t believe you did this!” he barks at me as he wads up his shirt and dabs at my head. It’s only then that I realize that I’m bleeding. He studies the cut as he wipes at it and then he hands me the soaking wet shirt.
