Page 62 of The Quit List
Foolish, I call it.
But, it’s effective. In mere minutes, I’ve picked up a rhythm moving my arms and am guiding the paddle through the water left, then right, then left again. The repetitive motion helps me relax. So much so that I begin to enjoy the moment. The smell of the dense foliage around the water, the call of birds echoing through the trees, and the feel of the sun and wind on my face.
As choppy as the water seemed from back on the shore, it’s actually not bad now that I’m in control of the boat. Jax said that this area of Sweetwater Creek is actually a reservoir, so I don’t need to worry about moving water or currents, but I do spot a patch of disturbed-looking water to my left, where it looks like the river apparently flows in.
I make a mental note to avoid that area, and stick my paddle in deeper, trying to turn the boat around so I can point myself in the direction of stiller waters.
“Yes, Holly!”
Jax’s voice carries over the wind from somewhere behind me as I’m turning the boat. I go to look at him, but in doing so, jerk my paddle further downwards, which sends the boat teetering.
“Woah,” I say as the kayak rocks and I try to regain my balance.
But, it’s too late. I’m drifting towards the moving, choppy water way too fast, and while I know that Jax is yelling instructions from the shore, I can’t hear anything.
In fact, everything goes totally silent… until a wave hits the side of the boat, and it tips over. I’m thrown into the water, and suddenly, everything is deafening.
Ooh, frick, it’s cold!
It’s still March—definitely not what I would consider swimming season. I’m thankful for the life jacket (though I am a decent swimmer) because, as quickly as I’m plunged into the reservoir, I pop up at the surface, bobbing like a cork as I splutter and cough out the water that went up my nose.
Gross.
I wipe the water and mascara out of my eyes, and ardently hope that I don’t get pink eye or something—there seem to be a lot of ducks and geese that frequent this area.
Then, I bob around to face the shore, and quickly discover that Jax is… gone.
Gone!
What the hell? Did he see me tip over and think “ah, this is a good time to go get a slurpee” or something?
Not that I need his help, but still.
Frustrated, I eye the upside-down red kayak bobbing a few feet from me and calculate my next move. I’m not sure whether I should leave the thing here, swim to shore, and wait for Jax to appear again, or if I should try to flip the thing over. Making a snap decision, I swim over to the boat and place my hands under it.
Out of nowhere, there’s a sudden warm body at my back. Two strong, tanned arms appear on either side of me, flipping the boat upright in one smooth motion.
“Nice tip.”
I turn to see Jax treading water behind me, trying (and failing) to hide his smile. His hair is all tousled and wet, and the beads of water on his eyelashes glimmer in the sun. He looks better than ever… while I’m sure I look like a startled raccoon.
“You doing okay there, Hol?”
“Never better,” I say as I push a chunk of wet, ropey hair off my forehead. “Just got too hot and decided to go for a cooling swim.”
He laughs. “You know you’re not allowed to swim in the reservoir, right?”
“Why?” I freeze, a sudden very unwelcome thought hitting me. “Are there alligators?”
“Don’t freak out,” Jax says slowly. Carefully. Which, of course, means yes, there are alligators in here, and I should, very much, freak out.
But I know that freaking out won’t help, so I put on my big girl panties and nod. “Tell me what to do.”
The approval that glimmers in Jax’s eyes is almost worth the imminent threat of an alligator biting off my toes. Almost.
“I’m going to get the paddle and I’ll get in the kayak first. Then, I’m going to help pull you in.”
“Okay.”