Above Water ✔️

20 - fear factor

I must have been really fucked up in the head. I was thinking about going back down to the beach.

After breakfast and Dallas disappeared for his interview, I took a long nap and then played explorers with the kids around the backyard. I was trying desperately to bring my spirits back up after my run in with Frasier, but it was bothering me too much. I thought that maybe going back down and sitting on the beach by myself would distract me enough to stop thinking about it.

So while I contemplated it for way too long, I drank too many beers with my legs dangling in the pool. I was probably too tipsy to even carry myself to the beach safely at that point, but I was still thinking about it.

It was nearing six o'clock. I had no idea if Dallas was back yet, but I wasn't going to check. Keep the peace, mind your business.

I watched my empty beer bottle float atop the pool's surface, bobbing away when it neared a jet stream. Wyatt would probably not appreciate my littering his pool, but I didn't really care. I stared out at the tall dunes, appreciating the daze of alcohol in my brain, and leaned back on my palms.

Behind me, I almost didn't notice the sound of footsteps descending the stairs down to the pool deck. I glanced back, surprised–but not really–to see Dallas, still in his dress clothes. His tie was loosened around his neck and his sleeves were pulled up, the top button of his shirt undone.

"Heyyy," I slurred, making a face at the unexpected drunk tone. "How did it go?"

He blew a raspberry into the air and kicked his shoes off, pulling his slacks up his legs without hesitation. "I blew it," Dallas said quietly, sitting down next to me and putting his legs in the water.

I pouted. "What?"

"I don't know," he said, closing his eyes and facing up. "My mind just wasn't in it. I was awkward and didn't answer the questions right and– I don't know."

"Well, that's ridiculous," I chuckled. "You are not awkward. I'm awkward. You're the opposite of awkward. You're . . . confident."

He snorted. "Not today, drunky."

"Well, maybe you just need to get drunk, too," I said, reaching back blindly to where I had the six-pack I carried down. I frowned when I found the carton empty. "Well, shit. I drank it all."

Dallas smiled. Such a pretty smile. "That's okay."

I looked at the pool, counting the six empty bottles that I clearly didn't keep track of. My mission was to get Dallas in a better mood, to feel better about his interview. I was almost positive he didn't blow it. He was passionate, smart, and I know that he probably sounded professional to whoever was interviewing him. It was just how he was.

"I don't really feel like drinking. I'm probably just going to head to bed early and get some reading done," he said, starting to get up.

I panicked and placed my hand on his thigh, which made him immediately stop moving. "Or," I said slowly, meeting his blue eyes with my wide ones, "we could go down to the beach and wait for the sunset."

His eyes traced my face, looking all over for something. I offered a small smile. The corner of his mouth twitched, fighting a smile back. I patted his leg and pulled myself up, swaying a bit. He followed suit and stood up, letting out a dramatic sigh.

"I'll go," he said and I started a victory dance, "if you get in the water with me."

I stopped dancing, pursing my lips. "I'll just go alone, then."

Dallas cracked a smile, shaking his head. I did not want to go to the beach alone. Even after the countless hours of thinking about it, I still felt a rooting fear. However, I was also stubborn as a mule, so I said what I said. I felt him following behind as we went up the stairs, but he stopped when I turned towards the promenade instead of back to the house. I turned around, walking backwards.