When I look back at Rose, she’s no longer thrashing in place.
Connor points to me while his lips move fiercely against her ear, and then Rose’s gaze peels off Loren and fixes on me, as though just now noticing my presence. I think she’s about to cry.
I’ve never seen Rose cry before.
She wipes her teary eyes quickly and nods while Connor keeps talking. His flexed muscles start to relax and then he kisses her forehead. She hands him her purse, straightens her dress, raises her chin and walks calmly over to me, as though nothing just happened. As though she did not have an epic meltdown.
“Let’s go somewhere,” Rose says, “just the three of us. I need air that’s not polluted by Loren Hale.” She waits for my answer, and then her eyes linger on my scar. Both of my sisters have been avoiding my cheek since they saw me, looking anywhere but there. She catches herself and tries to force a smile.
“I know a perfect place,” I say with a sly grin. I scoped out the area and woods before they arrived.
Five minutes later, I’ve navigated Lily and Rose through the mountainous terrain, filled with fallen logs and wet moss the closer we near the small waterfall. The moon and flashlights guide our way there. The trees break into a clearing, and stone surrounds what looks like a deep swimming hole, the waterfall collecting in the pool and then running into a tinier stream.
I sit on the stone and shed my long-sleeve shirt, the air nippy in mid-October.
“No way,” Lily says. “It has to be freezing.”
Rose shines her flashlight at the murky water. “It’s brown.”
“It only looks that way because it’s dark,” I insist.
She inspects the area a little more, her beam of light whipping from tree to tree, checking for visibility. It’s private for the most part.
Lily hesitates, crouching and dipping her finger in to test the temperature.
“Come on,” I smile at them. “You’re not going to make me beg, are you?” I stick out my bottom lip and bat my eyelashes. I will totally play the I-was-just-in-the-hospital card if I have to. I have to use it to my advantage while I can.
“Are we going in like naked, naked?” Lily asks.
Rose points the light at her face. “What other kind of na**d is there?”
Lily blocks the beam with her hand and squints. “Partial nudity and full nudity.”
“I’m going full,” I declare, standing while I unbutton my jeans. I snap off my bra, and I’m out of my panties in seconds.
Rose shuts off her light. “Daisy,” she says my name with severity while Lily takes off her Wampa cap and starts shedding her shirt. “We should talk about what happened in Paris, the runway and the riot.”
I do the immature thing and take the opportunity to escape that discussion. I jump straight into the swimming hole, the ice cold water shrinking my lungs and plunging me into pure darkness. But I don’t want to kick to the surface just yet.
I know what awaits me.
Feelings that I’ve dug through since… never. I’ve tried to take one thing at a time. The hospital. The scar. My mom. The runway rejection. Quitting my career. Everything just piled up on each other. I didn’t have time to really process. It just happened like a domino hitting the next one in line. I had no chance to go backwards and recount all the pieces that knocked over.
Ryke says I need to let it out.
To scream.
But I just saw Rose’s meltdown, and all it really did was worry her husband, guilt Lo and cause Lily’s eyes to bug out of her head.
Why scream if it just hurts everyone around you?
When my lungs beg for air, I pop to the surface. Rose is in her black panties and bra, peering into the water from the edge of the rock. The moment I come up, she splashes me. “I thought you drowned,” she says icily. “I was about to jump in after you.”
“Jump in now,” I say, the freezing water pimpling my arms and legs. I float on my back. “It’s so warm.”
Rose’s eyes narrow. “You’re shivering.”
Lily’s completely naked, and she slides in the water really slowly. Her boobs are totally bigger than mine now. I glance at my br**sts. Did mine shrink? Damn.
“Are your boobs bigger?” I ask Lily. “Or are mine smaller?”
Lily blushes deep red, still not used to talking about sex and all that jazz. I was never really close to her like that growing up. I went to Rose for any female-related advice. “Uhhh…” She touches her cheek. “Am I red?”
“Yes,” Rose and I say in unison.
Lily glances at my boobs as I float. “Uh, yours are smaller. You got really skinny, Daisy.” She plops all the way in the water and actually hisses like a cat. “Cold, cold.” Her breath smokes the air and she clings onto a warmer rock for refuge. I’m sure she’s wishing for Lo’s body right now.
I could use a Ryke Meadows pillow.
I smile at the thought.
Rose hops into the water, keeping her underwear on. “Motherfucker,” she gasps when she breaches the surface. Her glossy hair is wet around her cheeks. Her teeth chatter, and she nears Lily, who deserts her rock to swim closer to Rose.
“Huddle, huddle,” Lily says.
I laugh as they hold onto each other for warmth. I know they’re suffering through the cold for me, and I appreciate it a lot.
Rose looks at me, and her eyes land on my scar.
I stop floating and tread water.
“Are you worried about what mom is going to say?” Lily asks me first.
I tremble. I’m not sure it’s just from the cold. “I want to move on from this, and I’m afraid she’s going to turn it into such a big deal that I won’t be able to.”
“Tell her that,” Rose says.
“How?” I ask. “She won’t talk to me. I called her five times.”
Rose holds onto Lily like she’s her personal heating blanket, almost dunking her under the water a couple times. But Lily keeps her chin above the surface and elbows her. Rose concentrates on me, or at least tries to. “She doesn’t take change well,” Rose says. “By the time you go home, she’ll be ready to talk to you about your career change.”
“What if I don’t have a good backup plan?” I ask.
“You may need one,” Rose says honestly. “Mother likes plans, and if all you have is I don’t know, she’s going to start filling out college resumes for you.”
So in order to escape my mom’s control, I have to figure out what I want to do with my life. That shouldn’t be so hard, but it sounds terrifying to make that decision at eighteen.
I need like five more years at least.
Maybe ten.
A decade sounds good. A decade of preparing for what I’m going to do for the next fifty years. How do other eighteen-year-olds solidify their dreams and career paths right before college? How is it possible to know what you’re good at and what you love so young?
What if you never find out?
What if you spend a lifetime searching with no real answer in the end?
The future is depressing.
Maybe that’s why I’ve never thought about it before.
“You and Ryke,” Rose suddenly says, waking me up from my melancholy stupor. Maybe she realized the topic of our mom was a downer. “Have you f**ked yet?”
I gape. Wow, my sister said that so blasé-like. “We’re not together, so…” It’s weird. I’ve said these words before, but now they’ve become an actual lie.