Breathing Underwater by Alex Flinn Read Free Book Online

Everyone stared at Cat like she was from outer space. Dirk came at her, stoned and cursing. He eyed Cat in her still-dripping swimsuit .
    “We’re just having fun, baby.” He touched her waist. She made a sound like a hurt bird. “We could have fun with you, you little—”
    He didn’t finish. He didn’t finish, because my fist met his jaw. Then, I was on top of him, waling on him, not seeing his face, just the paint-mottled walls and Caitlin. And Dirk’s hand, touching her, hurting her. My breath in my ears drowned out the crowd sounds around me. Glass splinters ripped my skin. My fists flew, hitting and hitting him until finally his face was the colors of those walls, and I felt arms lifting me off him. Tom. It was then I noticed Dirk had stopped fighting. He moaned, so he must have been conscious .
    Tom told me to get up. Zack had called the police .
    Cat stared. I looked down and saw what she was looking at. Blood. Splinters of glass jutted from my arms, and my body was speckled red. Funny thing, it didn’t hurt. But had I screwed things up with Caitlin? She took my hand wordlessly. I followed her through the white-tiled halls to the bathroom and sat on the closed toilet seat. She ran her fingers down my arms, looking for glass. I flinched .
    “Does it hurt a lot?” she asked .
    “No. I’m sorry, Caitlin. I screwed up. I saw him touching you, and I lost control. I couldn’t stand—”
    She put her fingers to my lips. “Don’t apologize. It’s so incredible what you did. No one’s ever fought for me, but you…” Her voice trailed off. She stroked my arm, picked out each shard of glass in her way, then used a washcloth to blot the blood. I relaxed under her touch. For a second, I was four years old, going to my mother with a skinned knee and having her tell me not to be a baby. But now, it was Caitlin’s face, her voice in my ear, whispering, “You’re a hero, Nick. You’re my knight in shining armor.”
    I stood. My arms still bled, but I didn’t care. I pulled her close .
    I was right. Hers was the kiss that mattered .
    That night, in bed
    I flip through the journal again, remembering. Funny, how I can remember stuff that happened months ago, even little things she said or did, like it was yesterday. I guess it’s ’cause she’s still so important to me.
    I put down the journal and reach for my clock radio. The same words were written on the blackboard fifth period and again in seventh. There, the teachers erased it, but since Higgins doesn’t use the board, it stayed there all day. I set the alarm to go off an hour early. I’ll get to school by seven to obliterate the words.

JANUARY 26
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Spanish class
    Tom stares at me.
    I’m in Spanish class Monday, flipping through the pictures I took of our group in Key West. Nothing interesting on the blackboards lately. Still, I need to talk to Tom. Across the room, he laughs with Saint O’Connor, sitting in what used to be my seat. I look back at the photographs.
    The Key West trip was two months ago, Thanksgiving weekend. But in my mind, it plays like video of someone else’s childhood. There’s Caitlin and me silhouetted against the sunset at Mallory Square. Another is the group in front of Zack’s parents’ vacation house. I took that one, so I’m not in it. But there’s one of Tom, Saint, and me pretending to dive at the sign that says SOUTHERNMOST POINT IN THE CONTINENTAL UNITED STATES . The images surprise me now. Was I that person? An hour at the Walgreen’s lab made it so.
    I look longest at a picture Caitlin took, Tom and me on Zack’s boat. We’re waving our diving masks, best friends. I take that one out, along with three group shots. The one of Tom and me goes on top.
    “Señor Andreas, you are doing your workbook, no?” Señor Faure has noticed my inattention.
    “I’m finished,” I say.
    “Work ahead, then. Do the next chapter.”
    “I finished the book. Want to see?”
    A few giggles at my nerdliness. Faure shrugs.