Water In My Lungs

The Lake

*

The low rumble of Estelle's car over the long, dirt driveway made its way to Connor's ears as she leaned against the stubby, leafless tree in the yard. Her fingers had begun to grow numb as she rubbed them against the grain of her jeans for warmth. She had put off going back into the house until Estelle returned, just in case Killian wasn't who he said he was. She rebuked herself at the idea of leading a perfect stranger into her home. Estelle would be horrified and part of her dreaded the soon coming explanation.

Through the window, she watched him. He was soaked from battling the spouting water and the broken sink which had turned into a trickle. His hair dripped and she watched him cuss loud enough to travel outdoors as the water spurted once, hitting him the forehead. Connor giggled and covered her mouth in case he'd heard.

The black compact car pulled up not fifteen feet from her and the older blonde glanced over, standing up as the car door slammed.

"I hope your day was less creepy than mine," Estelle called over the hood of the car as she lifted her paper cup from the top of the car, holding a brown bag, no doubt filled with yesterday's batch.

"Probably not. Don't be mad, okay?" Connor had known Estelle long enough to not put off bad news for long due to Estelle's profound ability to know when there was bad news to be told.

"Uh, okay. Why should I be mad?" Estelle's cheerful face dropped, her chin tilting downward, looking at her friend from under black eyelashes.

"You shouldn't! But you might be. I've kept an eye on him," Connor put her hands up disregardful and smiled, hoping to ease Estelle's discomfort.

"What are you ta-" She turned her head to the house and saw movement in the kitchen window. There was a man in her kitchen. Why is there a man in my kitchen?

"Who is that? Connor, are you crazy?" Irritation soaked Estelle's words, her question more of an accusation as it came out at Connor.

"That's Killian! Mr. Gallagher's friend, you know? He just offered to help with the sink..." she practically squeaked, rubbing her hands around each other nervously.

"And he was just hanging around the house to offer his help? That's not creepy at all. You're going to get us murdered and I'm going to torment you, forever."

They both looked inside. Killian was watching them, wiping off his hands with a hand towel. He pushed the handle down and nodded, setting the towel down next to him. He leaned down a moment for what Connor assumed was intent to put the tools to their original place.

Estelle huffed as an unnerved Connor looked back and forth between the two. They watched the man disappear from the window and waited for him to reappear in the doorway with no result. With a hard look towards Connor, the younger blonde walked up to the house, coffee and and almost stale pastries in hand.

Once through the doorway, Estelle's previously determined trek suddenly became slow, deliberate steps like a deer entering a calm roadway. The living room to their left was empty and the house was quiet a moment before they heard a clatter to their left. They entered the kitchen slowly, Estelle setting her coffee down on the counter and reaching into her purse; wrapping her fingers around her pepper spray.

Then there he was, standing between the kitchen and the dining room, his grey t-shirt a darker shade after the sink had drenched him. He was staring at them doubtfully, lifting an old mop into a bucket and squeezing murky water from it.

Estelle stopped and stood straight, one hand shifting back and clasping Connor's, "Hi."

"Killian, this is my roommate, Estelle." He continued to stare, his face dropping into an even deeper frown.