Their Secret

Water was a secret between them. Maybe.

She liked water, Gabriella did. Water was peaceful and sensual, always ready to consume her – and everything else – when she wanted. Water was pure, cold and hot, slippery. It was simple, but there was a fascinating beauty to it. Water was adoptive, warm and welcoming. It slipped through her fingers sneakily when she poked it with them, it splashed cataclysmically in every direction when she dived into it, it glittered magnificently – and obediently – under the sun's glare, it didn't complain even once when she cut into it with her body in graceful strokes and arcs. That was just water's nature.

Water was docile. She could control water, and control it, she did. She liked it too. She could feel it with her tongue, and her body and her hands and her senses. She found it fascinating, actually.

p r o l o g u e

The Albuquerque sun shone high in the cool blue sky, sunlight shimmering through the still air as the light breeze whipped the city into an insurmountable frenzy. The Lake was calm as ever and birds skimmed the surface of the water; an occasional flap of their wings and their blithe chirping as the water splashed into a thousand different directions was a welcome change from the quiet that lingered. The tatty old house that stood overlooking the placid lake was silent as ever, the windows were closed shut with curtains draped shut messily.

"Hi," she called out, offering him a perfunctory wave. The man in question looked at her blankly.

"You're early."

Grinning, she tugged her jeans off her legs, revealing a part of her red swimsuit. A hand lingered near the hem of her shirt. "I just felt like having a good swim, is all."

The man said nothing for a moment; his face was a toneless mask. He stood up from his spot on the grassy ground, but didn't move. "Still," he said carefully, "it's not evening."

The brunette, although slightly confused, shrugged her shoulders, looking unperturbed by the blunt accusation in his words. She'd long ago learned never to expect anything but bluntness from this man. She reached for her yellow t-shirt, before pulling it off. The sun shone on her glossily golden skin, and the breeze played with her hair. She looked sideways towards the lake, squinting under the sun's intense glare, before turning her back on the man. "Like I said, just felt like having a good swim."

It was quiet again for a moment, no birds or splashes could be heard over the momentary silence. The man's hand jumped to his unkempt hair involuntarily, and the tattoo on his knuckles shone in the sunlight. Unlike the woman, he wasn't watching the lake; he was watching her. Bending down on his knees, he tugged at the overgrown grass and pulled out a bunch of blades from the ground. He threw it in her direction and said, "Whatever."

He pivoted on his heel and was gone.

The girl, though, was far from being disturbed by his bored and rude demeanor. They weren't, by any means, friends; they weren't even acquaintances. The blue-eyed, sandy-haired guy, renowned for his rudeness and arrogance, lived in the battered old house overlooking the lake. It wasn't like she was even interested in making friends with him; they'd met at the lake several times and they'd stared at each other, none of them willing to say the first word. The first thing Gabriella had noticed about him was his tattoos, the second was his insensitive, curt nature. Only when the need to have a conversation became too much - not because she wanted to, but because it'd have been too strange and too awkward to pretend he wasn't there any longer and go on without having one - she'd initiated a talk with a simple, tentative "Hi". Much to her chagrin, he'd just stared at her blankly. He rarely did anything else, save for the occasional blunt and rude comments he sometimes threw upon her in a gracious bestow.

And it was fine, frankly.

Humming, she walked over to the edge of the lake and dipped low. She touched the water with her hand and smiled, humming all the while. The water was warm, warm enough to go on a lazy swim and let the water soak her up. She walked ahead, the water level rising steadily as she did, until the water reached her neck. She let out a carefree laugh then, held her breath and plunged her head under the water. After a second - or minute; for hours seemed like minutes when she was swimming -, her head reemerged from the water.

She was grinning.

Water was her friend. She liked water. Slowly, deliberately, she made her way ahead with graceful strokes of her arm. It was peaceful, and she could feel her worries melting into nothingness and sinking low into the depths of the water. She liked that. With gentle, but powerful strokes, she waded around the shallower end of the lake and floated under the cool summer sky, humming and singing, her mind in a lazy mess. Water did things to her, evidently; her muscles were loose and relaxed, her mind and heart placated and her skin was warm and golden and soaking up sunlight. The water was glimmering.

She swam like that for a few minutes, her movements sluggish and relaxing, before deciding excitedly that it was time for some underwater swimming. Her hair was clinging to her neck and face reverently, her eyes half-lidded. She held her breath, and disappeared under the water.

Unknown to her, the blue-eyed man watched her every move.

--

The insides of the worn-out lake house wasn't anything like anyone could've guessed.

The house was clean, with two rooms, a bedroom and a living room, and a small, albeit messy, kitchen. The walls were a creamy off-white color with high ceilings, combined with large windows that opened out to the lake. The was no garden of course, for it was a lake house, but a set of stairs descended from the living room directly to a pier-like structure attached to the house.

The TV inside the living room was switched on.

Troy Bolton was looking out of his living room with a bored expression plastered on his face. Really, he could think of a lot of things to do. There were some sketches that needed touching up, and lunch needed to be cooked. Nevertheless, something just told him to stand there and look out towards the lake, just like that.

That brunette woman was swimming near the shallow end. He was almost impressed by her grace; almost. He watched in broody silence as her slender, fragile arms cut through the water's surface in a steady rhythm. For a second, he was almost tempted to go out there, rip his clothes off, and just bask in the impenetrable oblivion the water provided.

The girl disappeared under the water, and broke out again after a moment. He hair was plastered to her face and her neck, and she was grinning. He scowled in her direction as she swam with tantalising laziness, oblivious to his intense stare. Her skin was golden, he noticed to himself, and looked impossibly soft. He'd never seen skin like that, save for the sexy sleek actresses on movies and TV shows. He thought it was just over-the-top Photoshop. Now, though, he knew better.

He watched as she took a breath and disappeared under the water.

--

It felt good. Too good, maybe. But good.

A flurry of bubbles erupted from her mouth and nose as soon as she dived underwater, and she watched in wonder as the bubbles floated towards the surface of water and escaped. She pulled back her hands and cut through the water; her hands came back empty. Closing her eyes, she let herself feel the environment. When she opened them again, she was in a blue world and she felt like she belonged. She performed powerful kicks in sync with her strokes, and when the need for oxygen became too much, she broke through the surface again. She was grinning.

She took in a deep breath and held it, disappearing into the blue-green world again as the water around her splashed into different directions. She was in an entirely different world. She felt light-headed; almost as if she were going to be unconscious any moment...

She felt dizzy. Her head was spinning, her throat and chest was burning. An overwhelming weight was pressing down on her, and she was no longer in the blue-green world she'd been moments ago; she was slipping into a different place, a darker place. Her lungs were burning, she thought she was going to explode. Air. Air, air, air. It repeated itself like a mantra in her head, but her mind refused to obey. She needed air.

She was slipping. Fast. A blanket of blankness was pressing down on her; she couldn't breathe. She needed air. She kicked and thrashed at the water, as if trying to convey how betrayed she felt by it at the moment, trying to resurface so she could breathe. Instead, the blanket pressed down harder and she felt herself sinking, sinking, sinking...

She gasped involuntarily, and it was her final mistake. Her lungs ingnited inside her chest and her retinas bulged from her face like walnuts; she was blue all over. Her body became faint and unconscious, and she felt her eyelids droop...

A hand hooked on her waist from behind. Unconsciously, she felt being lifted. The blankness was getting her maybe. Wildy, she kicked and thrashed, shivering and gasping. She would die, for sure. She felt being lifted, into the heavens maybe... Someone was saying something. Words spilled around her and dissolved in the endless water that stretched out all around her; she could make nothing out. She pulled down, beating at whatever came her way, until...

Until she felt air. A sudden spurt of air. She gasped hungrily, consuming as much as she could. Her eyes were closed. Eventually, her gasps came out as faint coughs, until every movement subsided and she was still.

Troy came out of the water, breathing and scowling heavily. The idiotic girl was tucked under his arm. As soon as his feet touched the ground, he collapsed faintly onto the ground, bringing the girl down with him. He settled her on the grassiest patch he could find as she gasped and coughed. For a moment, he looked at her with mild incredulity, then she was still.

The girl was alive, he reflected as he checked for a pulse. She'd live. Maybe. And if not, it was too bad. He recollected the jacket from where he had dropped it before jumping into the lake and covered her with it. He'd been a good guy for long enough; it was time to revert back to his self.

For a second, his hand hovered over her forehead. His eyes became steely as he stood up. Then he was gone.

--

Author's Note:

Hi, hullo, howdy. New story, hurray. I'm crossing my fingers and hoping this one would work out. We'll see.

Anyways, review and tell me what you thought, even if it's just one word. Reviews make my day. Also, any suggestions, ideas, crit, anything... share rightaway. They'll be appreciated. And respected.

This? Well, don't ask. One day, I was talking to Joyce (lipstickdisaster) and I went all, 'Oh, hey, gimme ideas for some story, yo,' on her. And being the little sweetie she is, she provided me with a brilliant one. So. I'd just like to say THANK YOU, J. x

Read, enjoy (maybe), and review. :D

Much love,
Pocket