Into the Deep

Read Into the Deep Online

Authors: Lauryn April

 

 

 

 

Into the
Deep

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

LAURYN APRIL

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

 

Copyright © 2012 by Lauryn April

 

All Rights Reserved. No reproduction, copy or transmission of this publication may be made without written permission of the author. No paragraph of this publication may be reproduced, copied, or transmitted save with the written permission of the author. This work is registered and protected by My Free Copyright.

 

Written and Published by Lauryn April
Edited by April Tara
Cover Design by Lauryn April

 

Contact the author at:
laurynapril.gmail.com
http://laurynapril.blogspot.com

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thank you to all of my family and friends in supporting my writing over the years.

 

 

 

 

 

Prologue

 

I
remember slipping. That feeling when you’re falling and you can’t catch your balance, your feet sliding out from under you, arms flailing but finding nothing to grab. It’s that moment of weightlessness before you hit the ground when your breath catches in your throat. When I slipped, however, I didn’t have the ground below me. My bare foot slid on the slick tile that surrounded the pool, gliding effortlessly as if the ground had been coated with oil, sending my body tumbling backwards into Alta Ladera’s most elite country club’s swimming pool.
     I hit the water and for a moment everything slowed. It was as if time had been written on a piece of elastic and was stretched until every number, every minute, was pulled wide and contorted. I could see the look on Damon’s face as he lunged forward trying to catch me. I could hear my own sharp intake of breath. I could feel the rush of humid air past my skin. Then the cold water encased me, sucked me in and dragged me down. My hair swarmed out around my face. Like glowing strands of amber backlit by the moon, they spiraled into my view. I remember feeling heavy, and then my head connected with concrete. I heard the sound of my skull cracking against the sharp angle of an underwater step, and then everything went black.

 

 

 

 

 

1

 

Breaking Free

 

M
om had made juice that morning. She had some fascination with her juicer and would blend up all sorts of vegetable and fruit concoctions. I was grateful to see oranges and not carrots or zucchini on the kitchen counter as I came down to grab a glass before I left for school. Her blonde hair was pulled up into a ponytail and she frowned as I chugged the glass of freshly squeezed orange juice in one gulp.
     “Ivy, if you’re not going to eat anything, you could at least sit down at the table and drink that,” she scolded.
     “Sorry Mom, no time,” I said throwing my bag over my shoulder. “Thanks for the juice.” I left the kitchen before she could reply and rushed out the door in a hurry.
     It was Monday, the night before Nicolette Martin had thrown a party at her parents newly remodeled beach house. Everyone had been there. Needless to say, it was busted. I had been down on the beach with Christy Noonan and two of her friends who had graduated the year before. They were USULB students and while I wondered why two college freshmen from Long Beach would want to hang out with two Alta Ladera high school juniors, I had never voiced my concerns. Christy had just introduced me to Steve, a friend of Alex who Christy was currently throwing herself at, when we saw the blue and red lights move down the street. They were accompanied by sirens wailing like a room of dying cats, and had us running as if they were signaling the beginning of a race.
     Christy and I quickly discarded our recently opened cans of beer, tossing them with disregard onto the sand, and took off running down the beach. Being the president of the student council, Christy couldn’t risk the kind of trouble that came with a drinking ticket, not that it stopped her from drinking. It just made her run faster. That year, I wasn’t in any clubs and I didn’t play any sports so a drinking ticket wouldn’t have affected me any more than the wrath I would have had to endure from my parents.
     Christy’s blonde hair flew around her face as we ran against the wind. Steve and Alex behind us quickly chugged their beers before following. A ways down the shoreline, we all slowed to catch our breath, inhaling the smell of sea-salt, and laughed at the thought that we’d gotten away. I was just glad I’d been smart enough to park down the block from Nicolette’s house since the cops would ticket any cars that were parked right outside.
     Alex laughed. “Good thing we decided to walk down to the beach.”
     “Yeah,” I said out of breath. “Good thing.”
     “We should probably get out of here though,” Christy said.
     At first I thought she was still worried about getting caught, but then I saw her link her fingers with Alex’s. He offered to drive her home and she walked off with him, calling goodbye over her shoulder and leaving me alone with Steve.
     “I should get going too,” I said.
     “Do you want a ride?” Steve asked.
     “No, I’m parked nearby.”
     He nodded. “Well hopefully I’ll see you again soon.”
     I smiled and his eyes lingered on me for a moment. He may have wanted a hug, may have been thinking about leaning in to kiss me, but I was thinking about someone else. I gave him a wave and took a few steps backwards then turned and made my way home. The drive back I was checking my phone for messages every few minutes. I was eager to find out how the night ended for the rest of my friends, those who had been in the house when the cops arrived and especially Christy who left with Alex in his new Mercedes.
No one texted me though.

 

I
had gotten a used Scion TC for my birthday a month earlier. It wasn’t as nice as Christy’s Audi or the Mustang Eliza Hall’s boyfriend drove, but I enjoyed not needing to bum rides anymore. I parked it that morning in the student lot, leaving my car in the shade of a palm tree, and made my way into the open courtyard in the front of the school. Christy was already there, standing by the fountain and talking to Tiana Bello. A wide smile crossed my face as I approached them.
     “Ivy!” Christy yelled as I neared, “Great news, Steve was totally in to you. He and Alex are coming back down next weekend and said they wanted to make up for our ruined night.” Her wavy blonde hair bounced around her face with excitement and her brown eyes were wide.
     “Great,” I said with less enthusiasm.
     “Good, we’ll have to go shopping sometime this week then. Ti, you should come with.” Christy’s eyes locked on the dark-skinned girl looking her up and down, likely mentally critiquing her outfit. That would be something, I would learn, she did quite often. “You don’t think your parents are going to tighten the leash on you ‘cause of Nicolette’s party, do you?”
     “Why, what happened?” I asked.
     “Drinking ticket,” Tiana said rolling her eyes. “Mom threatened to take away my keys until I reminded her that then she’d have to drive me to and from practice four nights a week. That and I told her missing a third of the season of track was punishment enough. I’m just glad she’s too stupid to realize that the only reason I took track was as preventative drinking ticket protection.”
     “How do you know they’ll cut you from the track season and not field hockey?”
     “Because Mr. Gutierrez loves me and will totally refuse to not let me play,” Tiana said with a grin.
     I watched her smile fade after that as her eyes caught sight of someone on the other side of the courtyard. In that moment she looked lost, like her mind was a million miles away from us. Then we heard the loud screech of Mrs. Farrow’s whistle. She was the gym teacher, short in stature with short hair and a thin frame. What bothered us most about her was how strict she was. No one ever got a warning from Mrs. Farrow. If she caught anyone doing something against the regulations set in the Alta Ladera High student handbook, she would blow the whistle that hung around her neck as loud as she could and write them up.
     At that moment, she was yelling at a group of senior boys who were standing on the sidewalk between the school and the parking lot. They were smoking. I heard her yell something about a tobacco free environment and watched one of them stub out his smoke with the heel of his boot. The boy standing right in front of her however took another drag before putting his out. I stared at him a little longer, he looked familiar.
     “Gross,” Christy commented, “Who is that anyway?”
     “Brant Everett,” Tiana answered, referring to the seeming leader of the group who stood with a cocky grin and smiling blue eyes. “The other two are Skyler Bishop and Jason Davis. I have Bio with them, just not very often, they pretty much never go to class.”
     “Yeah, I think Brant’s in my Psych,” I said, “usually a no-show.”
     “Well good, Farrow will finally send someone to the principal’s office who deserves it for once,” Christy said, still upset about getting sent to the office the week before for having worn a skirt that was, in Mrs. Farrow’s opinion, far too short and too distracting to the other students.
     “Unlikely,” a voice called and we all turned to see Eliza walking up with her boyfriend. Damon Parker had his arm wrapped around her shoulders. Her long black hair was pushed off to one side. “His father’s a big shot lawyer who just made a huge donation to the school for a new swimming pool, which I’m totally psyched about by the way.” Eliza grinned.
     “I’m not,” Christy added. “Requiring swimming in gym class should be a crime.”
     “So should having Phys Ed third period,” Tiana said, and I nodded in agreement then looked back over at Farrow writing in her pink slip book while Brant, Skyler, and Jason stood talking amongst themselves. They ignored Mrs. Farrow’s shrill voice as she scolded them and walked away from her before she was finished talking.
     “So what, he can do no wrong?” I asked. “Hello unfairness.”
     “Yeah, well, that’s how it goes when the school’s too afraid to lose its funding,” Damon said.
     “I so have to convince my parents to donate money for a new pool or something,” Christy added.
     “Speaking of pools,” Eliza said as she pulled something small and metal from her pocket, “I’ve got the key to the Lakefall Country Club pool house. Anyone feel like going swimming after hours tonight?” Her face lit up with a huge smile.
     Even then I knew what everyone was thinking. We would be going swimming.

 

I
never did ask where Eliza got that key as the first bell rang shortly after that. I only knew that she wasn’t supposed to have it. Her parents were members at Lakefall and, unless she was required to be on campus with the swim team, she often practiced in the pool there. It wouldn’t have been hard for her to swipe the key from an employee; she was good at distracting people. She knew how to flirt, how to get someone’s eyes on her, how to bend or move in just the right way. Some poor pool boy had probably been drooling over her breasts while she swiped his key.  He wouldn’t have stood a chance. She probably could have plucked it right out of his hand and he wouldn’t have noticed.
     After that, the day dragged on like any other Monday. Math went by easy, but Bio made me want to sleep. Mr. Varnez, who led the Science department, was going on eighty and had a voice more monotone then a sarcastic robot Ben Stein. By the time I got to my last class of the day, AP US History, I was already day dreaming. Mrs. Cole was talking about Abe Lincoln and the Emancipation Proclamation, but I was thinking about Chase Bryant. Daydreaming about accidentally running into him at the pizzeria where he and the other football players would often meet up before games. In my daydream he’d greet me like a close friend, like a girlfriend, and ask me to join him at his table where, of course despite having all his friends around, he’d offer me his sole attention.
     In reality, however, I’d never be in the pizzeria at the same time as him, and if I was he’d never as much as glance at me. I liked to think I was a pretty girl, but there were a lot of pretty girls at Alta Ladera. Chase needed someone who was more than just a pretty face, and I’d never thought there was anything particularly special about me. Still, I let my mind pretend it was a possibility anyway, all the way up until the bell rang. Then my mind was back in the land of reality and I started to think about what I would wear that night to our afterhours swim.

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