Page 2 of Don’t Be A Stranger

River’s shouting is muffled, but I know his voice enough to know that it belongs to him without having to look away from the ceiling.

I’m surprised he’s even here. We’ve been subtly avoiding each other for a few months now. Neither of us will admit it and we like to pretend it’s not happening, but sometimes it feels like the distance between us is becoming inevitable.

Before looking in River’s direction, I plunge my entire body into the water to wet my face and give myself time to focus my energy on not thinking about all the things left unsaid between us.

I come back up, now facing River. He’s squatting near the closest edge to me. His baggy jeans hang loose on his hips and he’s thrown his flannel over his shoulder, as if he just realized on his walk inside the building that it’s too hot today for unnecessary pieces of clothing.

I can tell that he came straight here from work because he hasn’t bothered to take off his Metric’s nametag.

“Hey.” I begin to swim over to him. The closer I get, the stronger the scent of coffee grounds stuck to his clothes becomes over the chlorine.

“Any luck today?” he asks, gesturing toward the pool.

He knows my ever-moving goalpost when it comes to my swim time.

Whatever number it shows on the stopwatch never seems to be enough.

At this point, I’m convinced the high I feel comes from the process of reaching a goal. Not reaching the goal itself.

“No.” I shake my head and grab onto the edge of the pool, not quite ready to get out.

“Well, good thing you have all summer, right?”

I’m sure he considers this teasing—he usually does—however, I would put him in the asshole category right now.

I glare at him and he playfully glares back because he knows damn well what he’s doing. “I’m not going to change my mind, but if you want to head back home then by all means, be my guest.”

“Me?” He points at himself. “Lils isn’t there and if you’re not going either then there’d be no point. I refuse to put myself through the misery that is my parents. If anything, I have a perfect reason to avoid that place just like you.”

I splash him lightly. Water droplets darken the fabric of his jeans but he doesn’t seem to care. “I’m not avoiding anything.”

“I should call you out.” He grins. “But like the good friend I am, I’m going to pretend to believe the lie that just came out of your mouth.”

I anchor my palms on the edge of the pool and hoist myself out of the water with ease, plopping down right next to River. His eyes follow my movements as if it’s a habit that he can’t seem to break. Even after what happened between us this past December.

If college has taught me one thing so far, it’s that for being best friends, there sure is a lot that River and I don’t talk about.

“Think whatever you want.” I wipe the dripping water from my eyes. “But I’m telling the truth.”

River hums, but now he’s tilting his head to the side, his dark brown eyes watching me. My own gaze drops down to my body, curious about what he could possibly be looking at. Nope, nothing inappropriate has popped out.

I look back up at him. “What?”

“You weren’t training,” he states, as if it’s a fact.

And technically it is but I don’t know how he knows that. At least not until he points to his head.

“No swim cap or goggles.”

I did in fact not bother to snag those from my gym bag, as this swim session was only meant for me to float around in my self-pity. That, and I hoped the ethereality I tend to experience when I’m in the water would carry into my thoughts and take them away.

“Oh.” I touch the ends of my hair, choosing to pretend that this is a revelation to me. “I was training.” I find myself lying again, so effortlessly. “I just decided to relax in the water a little before heading out.”

River watches me for a second too long. The pillars have captured my attention yet again, but I can still feel his eyes on me. The attention has me shifting in my spot before River nods and moves to stand up. He reaches his hand out for me to take and I do so without hesitation, but once I’m on my feet, he quickly pulls away from me. River keeps his distance as I walk over to the bleachers to grab a towel and wipe my body down.

“I know you keep saying that I’m not going to change your mind.” Any playfulness in River’s voice is now replaced with genuine concern that I really don’t want to dissect. “But if you do, just say the word and I’ll drive you up there.”

The corner of my lips tugs up, even though less than ten minutes ago I wanted to do anything but smile. I can’t help it. River just has that effect on me.