Until We Fly (Beautifully Broken 4)

I feel someone staring at me, and as I look over my shoulder, I see Bethany Killien standing at her windows, watching us. Her face is set, and firm, and I don’t see any softness there. I shiver, and turn back around.

Today isn’t about her.

I grab Brand’s hand.

“Let’s do this.”

He nods.

And then he walks straight into the water, as if he’d never ever been scared of it. He dives under the surface with purpose and for a moment, I forget that I’m supposed to be swimming with him. All I can do is watch the strength with which he glides through the water, his strong arms pulling him through, stroke after stroke.

I’m mesmerized for a moment, until I remember that I’m supposed to be with him, so I follow his lead and dive into the surf.

***

Brand

The water is frigid, of course. Because it always is. It doesn’t matter if it’s August or November, Lake Michigan always feels like ice water.

But I don’t flinch or hesitate. I plunge in, and swim toward that motherfucking buoy.

Each time I surface, I take a breath and dive back in.

The water is clear, and cold, and everything I detest. But with each stroke, I realize that it isn’t the water I detest. It isn’t the lake. It isn’t even that fucking buoy.

It’s my father.

With every stroke, I shove his memory further away, decimating his power over me.

He doesn’t control me anymore. I’m not the kid that I used to be.

Nora’s right.

He’ll never control me again.

With strong, even strokes, I approach the buoy, gulp for air, and then explode through the surface, grabbing onto it. I cling to the buoy for a second, before I violently shake it, to and fro.

The bell rings out clearly, into the air, all the way to the beach. I glance toward my parents’ house and see the curtains of the living room fold close. My mother had been standing there, but she walked away.

That’s fine. I’d expect nothing less.

I ring the bell again, then again.

The sound is eerie and haunting and if I concentrate hard enough, I can almost envision my little sister standing on the beach, waving at me.

I smile at the thought, at the memory of Allison. Through all of my father’s beatings, at least he could never take that away. I loved my sister, and she loved me, and it wasn’t my fault that she died.

Ring the bell, Brand.

I ring it one more time, hard and fast.

Consider it rung, asshole.

Nora reaches me now and flings herself at me, and we both cling to the buoy. She’s wet and excited and wraps her arms around my neck, kissing me hard.

“You did it!” she cries out. “You did it.”

I know there was never a question. I was going to do it. I’m no pussy.