* * *
One of my favorite lines, ever, came from a book Rose and I did a report on together in seventh grade. The book was called, "There's Something About Jenny", and back when Rose and I were both into cheesy teenage romances, the poetic feel of lovesick verses struck us hard. There's something about Jenny--she can hit you like a rock stone sunk deep in water.
But maybe I should have seen it coming, with Rosie. I mean, every summer before, we'd both been so tan and full of crazy energy. The ocean was a big blue cornerstone for our budding teenage antics. But the summer, she just hadn't been herself. Being the intuitive best friend I am, I had decided it was just the moving blues--with the divorce and all, you know?
Sure, I was worried when she got sick. No one likes to watch their best friend vomiting blood on the front porch, but she said she was fine. I wanted to believe she was fine.
Her head was bobbing above the waves, laughing up at me.
And then, a crash of tides, and she was gone.
I screamed. And screamed. And then I dove down too. Reaching frantically for any sign of Rose. Kicking and crying, and then my fist closed around a long bundle of wet hair.
There's something about fear--it can hit you like a rock stone sunk deep in water.