Chapter Text
"People get concussed doing stuff like this," Victoria says. "Apparently, we get them every summer. They break arms and legs. They die."
Trinity scoffs. "Only because they're idiots. We're not."
When she says things like this, Victoria is reminded of every adult in her life who has ever described that fabled invincibility that young people are supposed to believe that they have. Victoria, for one, has always been acutely aware of her mortality, but she often wonders if Trinity never grew out of that particular teenaged feeling.
For what it's worth, Victoria admires this part of Trinity. It's why she agreed to drive out to the lake with her in the first place. Why she's hugging herself at a clifftop, not because she's self-conscious about Trinity seeing her in her swimsuit; rather, it's against the mosquitoes and the stiff breeze coming off the lake. Trinity's body is loose-limbed and relaxed, but she's wearing a white T-shirt that goes down to her knees over her swimsuit
They both pick their way, barefoot, over to the edge of the rock face to look down. The water below is clear and deep enough that Victoria can't see the bottom.
She sighs. Shakes her head. "I don't know."
"Look, we came all this way," Trinity says. "I bet the water's perfect. I'll go first. And then you'll have to come. Because otherwise I'll be down there all alone. And I'll stay down there until you jump in."
"You're seriously threatening me with death by drowning if I don't jump off a cliff?"
Trinity scrunches her nose. "I didn't say I'd drown, did I? I'm a strong swimmer."
She walks back from the cliff's edge, to give herself a clear runway. "Just watch first," she tells Victoria, "Then it's your turn. Remember: make sure to jump as far as you can, don't hesitate, and try to hit the water feet first so you don't break anything. Water isn't as soft as it seems."
So Victoria watches as Trinity runs toward the edge and flings her body easily into space. Arms raised, legs pointing straight down toward the water. For a fraction of a heartbeat, she seems to be held in midair, and Victoria thinks of angels and telekinesis and other impossible things. Then her body crashes into the lake and takes another two or three heartbeats to return to the surface. But she does, and she's laughing, exhilarated.
"Don't be a pussy," Trinity calls out, face upturned, arms waving gently just below the surface. Her voice bounces off the rocks; the word pussy reverberates across the lake, through the trees.
Victoria turns away from the cliff's edge, and fleetingly considers just waiting in the car for Trinity to climb back up. But the car is parked far away and she's not convinced that she wouldn't get lost in the woods trying to find it on her own. She's even less convinced that Trinity wouldn't make good on her promise to stay down there.
She blows out a long, hard exhale.
Runs.
Jumps.
Freefall is perhaps the most beautiful feeling Victoria Javadi has ever felt. Gravity takes over as a fact of physics; it doesn't ask for permission and she can't deny it, can't fight it if she wants to. And she doesn't want to. She gives in to the feeling. It's a freeing sort of helplessness.
And then, too soon, the moment's over and she hit the water. She feels it close over her head as she sinks like a stone. It takes her a second to push back against the water pressing her down and kick toward the surface.
Once her head's above water, she can't help it: she laughs.
It's her real laugh, not her usual nervous, awkward giggle. She sees Trinity a few feet away, smiling at her in a way that tells her that she's realized that this laugh is just for her.
And Trinity was right: the water is perfect. Victoria isn't a strong swimmer. She never needed to learn anything beyond keeping her head above water. How to float on her back. But she doesn't need to know much more than that right now. There aren't any waves, no deep currents to suck them under. The lake is a mirror broken only by the ripples that she and Trinity make with every tiny movement.
Trinity raises her eyebrows. "So?"
"That was everything," she gasps out another laugh. Her cheeks hurt from smiling. She's overwhelmed. She wants to cry.
"Do you want to go again?"
"Oh," Victoria pretends to think about it, but she knows the answer immediately. "No," she says, "absolutely not. It was too perfect. It wouldn't be the same the second time."
Trinity shrugs, and her T-shirt, now wet and translucent, wrinkles and clings to her with the movement. "It could be even better."
"It could be," Victoria agrees, "But I just want to enjoy this first time for a bit. So, ask again later. Maybe then I'll say yes."
Trinity treads water toward her. Little ripples come off her arms that blur to nothing by the time they reach Victoria, but she feels like she can still feel them gently lapping at her.
Up close, Victoria can see how the lake water has clumped Trinity's eyelashes into little wet triangles. She can see little goosebumps along the tops of her collarbones where her shirt doesn't cover them. Victoria wants to cling to her like a sea creature in a tide pool.
When they kiss, Trinity's mouth feels cool and tastes a little like the lake surrounding them. Dissolved minerals, Victoria thinks, safe enough to swallow. It's not their first kiss — far from it — but it feels like a first somehow. So much of this summer has felt like firsts.
Victoria gets a little too caught up and forgets to keep kicking her legs. Trinity has to tug her back up by the arm when her chin drops below the surface more than once.
"You're getting tired."
"No, I'm not," Victoria answers, because she doesn't want this to end. She can tell, though, that Trinity doesn't believe her.
"We should probably start heading back."
Victoria glances toward the shoreline. She'd thought that once she'd jumped down, she'd see some clear path, some man-made trail, to take them back to the top.
"Um," she says slowly, "How do we get back?"
"Oh, didn't I say?" Trinity replies. "The jumping's the easy part."
By the time they get back to the car, Victoria's heart is beating hard in her chest and her arms are tingling from the climb and then the twenty-minute walk back through the woods to where the car was parked. She can feel tender spots on her shins that are sure to bloom into bruises by morning. Her swimsuit still clings wetly to her skin; it is too late in the day for the sun and hot air to dry them and warm them back up. Trinity pops open the trunk of her car and brings out towels for them both, opens the passenger side door for Victoria to sit, then walks around to the driver's side. Victoria lays her towel on the seat so she doesn't get it wet, but Trinity keeps her towel slung around her shoulders.
Trinity turns the key in the ignition just enough to power the lights and the radio. They both stare out through the windshield and watch the moths fly into the headlights.
"How did you even find this place?"
Trinity reaches over and turns the music's volume down low.
"Used to come here with a friend," she says, still staring through the windshield. "People camp on the other side of the lake. Have cottages there. Nice ones. But for some reason this side never got developed." She glances at Victoria then. "It's why we couldn't just drive up to the cliff. No roads. No touristy lookout. Just—" she gestures vaguely toward the dark beyond the headlights "— a whole lotta untouched nature."
"So it's like a secret," Victoria says, and this lifts a corner of Trinity's mouth halfway to a smile.
"Not to me. This is the sort of place meant to be shared." She huffs out a little sigh that Victoria can't quite translate. "It's been a while since I've been back here. It hasn't changed, which is nice. I was worried it might have."
Victoria senses that there's more that Trinity isn't saying, but she doesn't press it. Moments like these are always fragile, and Victoria has learned that when she pushes against them, Trinity puts up defenses.
"This is really special," she says instead, and she means it. "This whole summer has been really special."
Trinity looks at her a little sharply. "Summer's not over yet," she says, and there's something buried there. Something else she isn't saying.
"I know," Victoria says quickly, as reassuringly as she can. "It's just going by so fast. I don't want this to end."
Trinity presses her lips together. "This doesn't have to end when summer ends, you know."
"I know," Victoria says again. "I didn't mean this has to end. I just mean that summer will. And I don't want it to."
"Okay," Trinity says. "Yeah. Okay. That's what I feel, too."
Victoria leans her head back against the passenger seat. "So, um," she says, "I jumped off a cliff for you? What's next? Sky diving?"
Trinity just laughs. Victoria's pretty sure it's her real laugh.
She laughs, too. She likes how they sound together.