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not beta'd

storyline - Malicious

prompt- sequel


Normally I'd bring Alice or Rose along, or even Jess, but I decide against it at the last minute. It's nice to spend time with my teammates sometimes, talking about the things that we have in common. There are inside jokes and memories of races and ambitions that only these people understand; it's cozy inside the bubble.

Your mom's set up the grill, and I'm offered barbeque chicken and potato salad the moment I walk out to your back yard. Music plays softly, and it looks like everyone's here already, scattered in little groups. I forget how many kids we have on the team sometimes, complete with alternates and freshmen.

Emmett walks over, slinging his arm around me. "'Sup, Swan?"

I make a face, laughing because he never calls me by my last name. "Not much. So you didn't bring Rose either, huh?"

"Nah. I told her I'd pick her up later."

"She'd be bored here, anyway," I agree, nodding.

"Yep." He takes one of the potato chips off my plate and sidesteps away before I can swat at him.

"Get your own!"

"I think I will."

You're over on the hammock, talking with a couple of the newer team members. They gaze up at you, listening attentively as you explain something, your hands moving and your face alight with excitement. Obviously it's funny, because laughter ripples though the group every now and then.

It's something you love, and you're so good at it.

Swimming, I mean. Not showing off. It seems like you're concentrating on the former more than the latter these days, even if you have been hesitant about actually getting back in to the water. Monday marks the day you officially start to train again, but Emmett says you've been hitting the weights and running laps on the track after school.

I used to think you weren't afraid of anything, but I guess we all have our fears.

Actually, that isn't true. Apparently you were afraid last year, too, but of something else.

Brie passes by, touching my arm softly. "Hey Bella." Even though she's barely a sophomore, she seriously kicks ass in the water. I love watching the newbies race; they've got something to prove and they haven't let winning go to their head yet.

"Hi, Brie." We smile at each other for a second, and then she's gone, walking over to your group.

Just then you look up and see me, and your face totally changes. It does funny things to my heart, because you're looking at me like… like you like me.

Oh, Lord.

Instinctively I'd rather hide out at the picnic table with Emmett and the other loudmouths, but this is your party and that would be rude. Clearing my throat, I smile a little and start walking.

By now the kids you were talking to have noticed that your attention is elsewhere, and most of them are craning their necks to see what you're looking at. Swear to God, we must be the most entertaining twosome in town, with our history of competition, hatred, and now the fact I saved you. I know people talk about it; I hear them occasionally.

"Hi, guys," I say, standing awkwardly outside the circle.

"Hey, Bella. Glad you came." You smile and pat the seat next to you, which is ridiculous, because it's a hammock and I'm not sure I want to sit that close to you. Especially in front of a group.

When did our relationship become so bizarre? Pulling you out of the water was like entering the Twilight Zone; nothing's been the same ever since. Not even close.

But everyone looks all expectant so I stumble through the space they've made for me and I join you, careful not to upset the hammock's balance. We're the best swimmers on the team, and usually the best amongst the other schools too, so I'm used to the hero worship. When we were freshman, we totally regarded seniors like Quil Ateara the same way.

"I was telling them about the time me and Emmett pantsed those kids from Central after the meet last year," you say.

"Ah, good times," I say, remembering.

"So," Brie clears her throat, her eyes flickering back and forth between you and me. "What was it like that day? When Edward almost drowned?"

Shrugging, you turn a little red. "I was jumping off the big rock at West Beach like we always do and…"

The second hand embarrassment I feel by looking at you makes me queasy, so I turn to Brie. "If you don't jump when the tide is in, you can miscalculate and get dragged against the rock. It happens every summer, only Edward hit so hard he passed out."

I don't know why you look so mortified. Yeah, it was a dumb move, but it happened and it's over. Besides, now scores of little girls like Brie are looking at you like they just want to take you home and be your own personal nurse. You used to love that kind of attention.

"Was it scary?" she asks.

I nod. "Very."

You clear your throat. "They told me later it took you awhile to get me breathing."

I sigh, a little uncomfortable. "I'll be right back."

I don't even know where I'm going, just that I don't feel like rehashing this story over and over again. I get why it fascinates people, I do. But it gets tedious when we're the stars of this little melodrama.

You catch up to me right as I squeeze through your sliding glass doors.

"They're just curious, Bella."

"Something tells me you enjoyed that about as much as I did," I say, teasing you a little.

You laugh softly, running your fingers through your hair. We're standing really close, so I step back a little.

"Sometimes I wonder what it's going to be like this year."

"What do you mean?" I ask. "Like on swim team?"

"Yeah."

"You'll get back in to the water like always."

You fold your arms and watch me, like you're waiting for me to catch up.

I glance back outside, watching our friends as they mill around. "You mean now that we're not at each other's throats."

"I'm sorry about last year."

"I know."

"I mean it."

"I know you mean it." I give you a half smile, trying to lighten the conversation we seem to always end up having these days. "I guess it's true what they say about near death experiences…"

"It's not a joke," you say, and you're serious.

Maybe you're right, and I shouldn't joke around. After all, it wasn't funny that day and it sure as hell isn't funny now. But sometimes it's better than being emo about it.

"No, It's not," I admit. "But things have been better since that day. I wish it hadn't gone down like that but it did and, looking at how things are, I'm not really sorry."

"Actually, neither am I."

If I look back over the last couple of weeks, I can see how this could be true. Not counting getting in to the pool, you're not so much scared as you are thoughtful. Open. Real with people.

I say it. "It's like you were scared before, of being yourself of whatever, and now that you've seen what it is to be truly scared you're not." Chuckling, I shake my head. "If that makes sense."

"It makes sense. You always did see right through me, didn't you?"

"Maybe."

We're quiet, trying not to full out stare at each other and failing.

"You didn't need the bathroom or anything, did you?" you ask eventually. "I can show you where it is…"

"No," I say, automatically remembering the last time we were in a bathroom together. Yeah, that's a sequel I could do without, thanks. "I'm good."


thanks for the input, guys. i love the questions and theories and wonderings. most of you get it, i think. you know how boys can be. especially the immature ones. speaking of immature boys, i have a seriously young one trying to get my attention. love you! xoxo