Underwater (BoyxBoy)

Chapter 8 - Lights

I knew I loved the ocean at a very young age.

My first memory at the beach was when I was four and a half. My mother tanned in the golden sun, while my dad read a book next to her. We'd taken a day trip to a clean Monterey beach to celebrate my mothers birthday.

My parents were young and in love. Well, younger. They probably thought back to those days as some of the happiest of their lives. In some ways, I was envious of Emily. She'd been born after they'd stopped showing each other affection. She didn't have to watch them fall out of love.

I didn't know who'd have it worse in the long run, Emily, or me. I grew up believing that love was doomed to fail. But maybe she'd grow up thinking love was having to tolerate one another while raising children. Affectionless, fighting every night.

She probably had it worse.

I remembered that day they'd given me strict rules to not go in the water. I knew how to swim, thanks to my parents throwing me into lessons as early as possible. You can't live in Santa Cruz without knowing how to swim my dad had told me. But for some reason, they didn't trust me to fend for myself in the waves alone.

I trusted myself.

I'd been playing in the sand, letting it fall through my fingers smoothly as I poured it from hand to hand until there'd be one grain left. I'd designated this last grain to throw at my mother as she lay down, seeing if she'd be able to notice it against her skin while she rested. She didn't, and eventually the game I'd made for myself became dull.

I remember thinking grown-ups are boring. Why'd my dad want to come if all he'd do was read a book he could've read at home? Couldn't my mom lay in her bed and rest? Why'd it have to be on the sand?

Eventually, my dad tilted his hat to cover his eyes and set the book down next to him. I looked from him to my mom, noticing both their eyes were closed, and turned to watch the waves.

These aren't big, I remember thinking to myself. Not like the ones by my house above the cliffs. Those were massive, treacherous... exciting.

Something about them called to me.

I remember finding myself at the edge of the water as it receded from the sand, before quickly chasing me back as another wave crashed.

I looked back at my parents, they hadn't noticed that I'd gone yet, their eyes still closed. I took my shirt off and threw it behind me in the sand, before my legs carried me into the water.

It was cold, I remember thinking. Pools weren't this cold. I still wanted to go farther though. I was knee deep when I heard my name being called. I turned in the water and saw my parents looking around them, my mom was on her feet.

My heart faltered, noticing I wouldn't be able to go any farther. I just got in I'd thought, the disappointment growing as I realized my parents would most definitely not let me swim into the ocean alone.

I saw another adult shout something at my dad, before turning and pointing to me.

"Oliver!" He yelled at me, and both my parents started rushing over. "Get out of the water now!"

It was up to my shoulders now, and I'd gotten used to the cold. I preferred the cold. My feet were soon no longer touching the ground, and I realized I hadn't moved on my own, the ocean had pulled me in.

My mom shrieked and I turned to look behind me, seeing a wave towering over me as it curled. They're much bigger up close, I'd thought, before I instinctively ducked down beneath the surface.