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not beta'd

storyline - Malicious

prompt - bleach

This is a relatively small town, so I know where you live.

Everyone knows where everyone else lives, and besides, I've been to parties at your house. I park on the curb, not wanting to crowd your driveway. There are already a couple of cars there.

Your mom answers the door. I remember how right after my mom left, yours always brought extra snacks and sandwiches to practice for me. We weren't even close, you and I, but she still looked out for me. It's been awhile since I've spoken to her other than the occasional smile-and-wave at swim meets.

Esme takes this deep, strangled breath and pulls me in a hug. I hug her back, knowing she needs it. I think I might need it, too. After a while she sniffles, letting go. Her eyes are watery and red.

Call me stupid, but it didn't occur to me till now that I saved her son. The ripple effect is intensified. It wasn't just you and me on the beach that day; it was all of us. I hope she doesn't thank me. That's not why I came. Taking advantage of the fact that she's trying to pull herself together, I motion toward the stairs.

"Edward's upstairs, right?"

"Yeah, honey, go on up. He'll be home for the next couple of days."

I jog up the steps and go to the second door on the left. It's open, and you're in sweatpants and a bleach stained t-shirt, playing Xbox. I pause just inside, leaning against the doorframe.

"Hey."

You do a double take and pause your game. The stitches on your forehead look better than I was expecting.

"Hey…come in."

"I'm just… I was just passing by. Wanted to see how you were doing."

"I'm okay." You shrug and look down, dropping the controller on to your bed. "Thanks."

The tension between us sucks. I take a step backward.

"How… did you know?" you ask suddenly, and I know you're talking about the beach.

"They said there was one more they couldn't find. I'd seen people jumping off the rock earlier… I didn't know it was you though." I swallow, remembering. "Till I saw your shorts."

You nod. I don't think I have ever seen look this serious. It's like your face has forgotten how to smile.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

"I'm captain of the swim team and I almost drowned, Bella. What do you think?"

"Everybody knows it was the rock."

"Yeah."

"That's why I don't jump off that thing," I say.

It's quiet. I glance at the TV screen, where someone is frozen in the middle of combat.

"What is this?"

"Black Ops."

"Oh."

"Bella."

I look at you, really look. I see you like you were that day, and it makes my chest feel tight, like it's squeezing my heart.

"I can't even like, wrap my mind around it. I'm okay because of you."

Biting my lip, I nod. "Well. That's what I was there for."

I don't mean to sound impersonal, I just don't know what to say to that. You're right: it's hard to wrap my brain around. It's too big. Too what-if. It's almost like I didn't save you; fate did.

"Don't," you say, in the quietest voice.

"I would have done it for anybody."

You scrub your hands over your face, and I see the second you rub the stitches by mistake because you wince, sharply. Without thought I go to you and touch them, barely running the pads of my fingers across the roughness. You reach out and grasp my shirt, tugging me closer. I freeze, not sure what to make of this.

"You're so much better than I am," you say.

"Edward, geez. Shut up. You're a great swim – "

"A much better person," you interrupt.

I drop my hand. I think of the past year, how we both did things we should be ashamed of. How neither of us took the higher road when we had so many opportunities to.

"I'm not that great," I whisper, the truthfulness of it punching me hard in the gut.

You let go of my shirt and lay back. "I don't want to get back in the water just yet."

"That's okay. You have a week before school starts."

"Not even then."

I roll my eyes. "Too bad. You have to."

You shake your head, and for the first time ever I see fear on your face. "I'm not ready."

I want to tell you to man up, tough it out. But something stops me. Part of me understands your fear, but the other part of me acknowledges that the best way to deal with it is to do the thing. Fear is worse than whatever we're fearful of.

"You'll be okay," I say. "I'll be there."

to answer a couple of questions: this is set in a small to medium sized Florida beachtown, kind of like the one i live in. also, the present takes place exactly one year after the past. so they're about to start senior year.

so, have you ever saved someone's life?