Samantha Young: Out of the Shallows

“So am I.” Glancing over at Mom, I saw tears shining in her eyes as she smiled at me.

Yeah, totally the best decision for my family.

It gave them peace of mind, and they needed that more than I needed to be a cop.

Claudia bravely queried, “Are you sure that’s what you want, Charley?”

“Of course.” I gave her a tight smile.

Dinner was less awkward than usual after that. Mom and Dad actually engaged in conversation and afterward, instead of shooing me off when I attempted to help clean up, Mom let me.

I followed her into the kitchen and piled the plates near the trash. As I began scraping off the leftovers Mom said, “I’m proud of this decision, Charlotte.”

I glanced over at her. “Yeah?”

She smiled, her eyes misting. They did that a lot these days. Mom had never been a big crier before… well, before… but she welled up at the slightest thing now. “I have to admit it’s been playing in the back of my mind these last few months—you going off to the academy after graduation. Going into the police. It’s not like I haven’t always known you could take care of yourself. Even when you pushed Andie out of the way of Finnegan’s SUV, I worried for about half a second until I saw you. Your leg covered in a cast, bruises all over, and you grinned at us when we walked into that hospital room. All cocky. If that had been Andie, it would’ve shaken her up more. She was a mess after it happened. She followed you around for weeks. It drove you nuts.”

Just like that, a lump formed in my own throat and I turned away, trying to swallow past the collection of mounting tears. “I remember,” I whispered.

“I didn’t want you to be a cop. But before this summer, I felt guilty for pressuring you into not going for it. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life waiting for a phone call in the night to tell me that my daughter had been killed just doing her job. But more than that, I didn’t want my kid to resent me for holding her back. For not supporting her.

“But then Andie…” She pushed away from the counter and walked toward me. She stopped and reached out to take my hand. “I know it’s selfish to ask you to give up the academy. I know it. I don’t know if you really want to take the LSATs or if you’re just saying it to please your dad and me. If I were a stronger woman, I’d tell you to go for it. Go for your dream. But I’m not. I’m happy you’re not applying to the academy. I’m sorry, but that’s the truth. Please don’t hate me.”

“I get it. That’s why I’m not doing it.”

“Do you really want to be a lawyer, though? Because you don’t have to be.”

I grinned wryly. “I can’t give Dad what he really wants. For the first time in my life, I’ve disappointed him—”

“Charley—”

“No, Mom, you know it’s true. I wish I were stronger too. But I’m not, so this is all I can give right now. He’s always wanted me to be a lawyer. I’m taking the LSATs.”

Mom’s grip on my hand tightened. “One day we’ll be us again.”

God, I hoped so because right now I really missed my dad and I really missed Andie.

The tears spilled down my cheeks and I turned away, trying to focus on the dishes. Mom gave me space.

Just as her footsteps disappeared out of the kitchen, my phone buzzed in my pocket. My stomach flipped unpleasantly at the name on the screen.

Another missed call from Jake.

That would be one a day since I’d left Edinburgh.

Like clockwork the text message came after it.

You know the drill…

Despite the fact that I never answered his calls, Jake kept trying, hoping for the day I’d change my mind. Six weeks ago, when it became clear I wasn’t going to answer his calls or texts, he’d sent me a message asking me to at least let him know I was all right. So I did. Every day since, he’d wanted to know at least that.

Brushing the remaining tears from my cheeks, I replied.

I’m okay.

I never asked him if he was okay. There was so much guilt weighing on me, I was taking the coward’s way out with Jake. I’d hurt him. I knew that. I just didn’t want to hear him say it.

Shoving my phone back in my pocket, I thought how ironic it was that only a few short months ago, I’d made him work his ass off to make up for the way he broke up with me when he was seventeen. Over four years later I’d hurt him just as badly. I’d promised myself I’d never hurt anyone the way Jake hurt me.

What a difference a few months can make.

Edinburgh February 2013

“…you against my fallow heart. There’ll be no sympathy from me, my friend. I lost you out in the shallows…”

For the past twenty minutes I’d been successfully working on a tutorial project, my laptop open on the table, beer beside it, while my friends sat around me listening to indie rock band The Stolen.

We were in Milk, a bar on the Cowgate, an area of Edinburgh where my fellow Americans and I were living while doing a year abroad at the University of Edinburgh.

Luckily for me, I was the kind of girl who could drown out a live rock band and a noisy crowd in order to complete classwork I forgot was due the next day. I could’ve stayed back at my apartment, but I had unpleasant business to take care of there later so I was avoiding having to spend any more time there than necessary.

This hadn’t been a problem until my friend Lowe, lead vocalist of the band began singing my favorite song, “Lonely Boy.” Since the moment I’d heard it months ago during their first set in Scotland, it’d struck a chord. And every time I heard it, it pulled me in.

I turned my head from my laptop screen to look up at the small stage. Lowe, a hot, smart musician with tattoos, a lip ring, and messy dark hair, caught my movement and focused on me, his eyes smiling over the top of his rimless glasses.

I gave a small smile back and picked up my beer, listening to his song.

Lowe told us that he was never more honest than he was when he wrote a song. In response, my boyfriend Jake had joked about me writing a song for him. The joke fell flat because the truth was I wasn’t being open enough with him. I was keeping a part of myself from Jake. Tonight was supposed to be a step forward for us—a big step for me, but one I felt I had to take if we had any hope of holding onto a relationship.

I’d been feeling nervous but okay about it. Until Lowe and his freaking song.

As if he’d guessed where my mind had wandered, Jake rested his chin on my shoulder. He wrapped his arms around my waist and drew me against his chest. “Where are you right now?” he asked, his lips tickling my ear.

I shivered and turned my head slightly so his lips touched my cheek. “I’m right here.”

“Why does this song get to you?”

I jerked, staring into his gorgeous face in surprise.

Jake smiled slightly, his dark eyes warm and knowing. “I pay attention.”

“You’re a know-it-all.”

His white teeth flashed. “Only when it comes to you. When a subject really interests me, I give it my unwavering focus.”

“Are you saying you’re an expert on me?”

His eyes lowered and I felt his grip loosen. “Hopefully one day you’ll let me be.”

Not knowing how to answer, I looked back at the stage. For the last few days, since we’d started a physical relationship, the uneasiness that existed beneath the surface had only increased. It wasn’t borne of not wanting one another. Far from it. No, I was holding out on an emotional level and Jake was trying to be patient, which wasn’t his strong suit.

All in all, it had created a sense of fragility between us.