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needs to make her point. i’m pretty sure she’s making another point. Her head tips back, and she’s staring again.
     
    i try not to flinch.
     
    The old me would have taken the invitation and stepped right into it, but i stand there with her hand light and small on my chest and all i can do is control the urge to flick it away. i can’t follow up the touch, lean down and kiss her, or even take hold of her hand. Maybe that would be strong, but i just can’t do it.
     
    She pulls her hand away with a jerk. It’s too awkward to keep looking at her and pretend that didn’t just happen, so i focus on the far shore, clear my throat. “Can we take your canoe out?” If i can’t get in the water, at least i can float on it, caress it with the paddle, force it to obey me.
     
    “Sure.” She sounds relieved. i thought she’d be mad. Did i misread the whole thing?
     
    We paddle to the middle of the lake. Leesie steering, me in the front. i’m not so bad with the paddle. She’s great. Stronger than she looks.
     
    i’m loving it—could stay out here forever.
     
    Leesie spots some dark clouds in the distance. “Shoot. We should head in.”
     
    “Not yet.” i trail my fingers in the water. They’re going numb. It feels so good to touch it that i don’t even care. “How deep is it here?”
     
    “Really deep.” She turns away from the clouds and rests her paddle on her knees.
     
    “Fifty feet? A hundred feet? What?”
     
    She frowns and shrugs. “Who knows.”
     
    i unzip my club jacket and rip off my hoodie. “Want me to find out?” My T-shirt goes next.
     
    “What are you doing?” She’s freaked.
     
    i’m fighting my belt buckle. Stupid numb fingers. “i free dive—like pearl divers.”
     
    “Don’t be crazy.” She holds her paddle in front of her like a weapon. “Stop it. Now!”
     
    i kick my shoes off, finally get the belt, and slide my jeans off. Leesie’s staring and red-faced. It’s just boxers. She said she has a brother.
     
    She’s scowling for real now. “The water’s freezing.” She waves her paddle at me.
     
    “i’ll be right back.” i roll over the side, gasp as needles of cold prick every pore, gulp air.
     
    “Get in here,” Leesie yells in my face, and grabs at me.
     
    i push off and dive. i keep my eyes wide open, but all i can see is a blurry smudge. i don’t have any fins and no weights so i have to fight to get down—only make it to about forty. No sign of the bottom. No sign of anything. It’s creepy and black and oh, so empty. No coral. No fish. No sunshine. No parents. Only Isadore lurking deep beneath me. Brooding. Heavy. Crushing.
     
    i tear to the surface with my lungs screaming for air. i break through twenty feet from the canoe. The sky looks darker already. My body’s numb.
     
    Leesie paddles over. i even let her help me in. “Thanks for scaring the life out of me.” Her face looks as dark as the sky. She drives her oar blade into the water.
     
    I’m dripping wet, shivering, and useless. Fresh freezing pain mounts in waves as the air warms me into sensation. i mumble a lame apology through chattering teeth.
     
    “There’re towels in the shed. I’ll find you one in a minute.”She kicks me a paddle. “So how deep is it?”
     
    “Pretty deep. i couldn’t see the bottom.”
     
    “The bottom’s muck. You don’t want to see it.”
     
    Muck.
     
    Mangrove toes claw out of soft swamp mud and swirling salt water. i’m not at the lake with Leesie anymore. i stand in the swamp’s silt, gulp air, up to my ankles in muck . The wind and water knock me flat, carry me farther downstream until i hook a mangrove root. i pull myself along the bottom, grasping the twisted toes, find a mature tree, and wrap my arms around her, shivering in the stagnant murk that slaps at my waist. The wind pulls. The water rips. i hold my mangrove buddy tight, start talking to her, willing her to stand against the storm. Dizziness washes over me. i start