I need to know.

I really need to know!

“Is this real?” I shout one more time as I’m about to take another step forward.

“Yes!” says a voice from behind me.

I turn and look.

Oh my God! It’s Zander!

At that moment, a water current hits my right foot and pulls me under.

Holy fuck, I’m drowning!

I’m in a swirl of water, sucked inside of it, and spinning in circles. I inhale a mouthful of ocean as I try to right myself.

I try to swim, but it’s no use. The ocean has complete control over me. I can’t even tell where up is.

Fuck!

Well, looks like I’m going to die.

Walking out into the deep water was a stupid move, wasn’t it?

I guess it was all real.

Now I’ll never know.

Damn.

I’ll never find out if Lukas Thorn really loves me. I’ll break Trevor’s heart because he’ll think I killed myself over him. My dad will think it’s because of him and Karissa. I’m not sure what Karissa will think, because she kept so much of herself hidden from me. I don’t care what my mom or sisters will think.

Oh, well. It was fun.

I take a deep breath and inhale another lungful of water, accepting my stupid fate.

Then I feel hands on my shoulders, carrying me.

No, it can’t be.

Whatever.

I just let myself drift and fall into the vortex.

Chapter 7

A mouth is on mine.

Oh God!

A rush of water flows out of my lungs and I cough furiously, sitting up on my side.

I’m in serious pain as a final purge of water flows out of me and onto the sand, mixed with vomit.

I go into another coughing fit. Hands pat my back. Wait, what hands?

I turn and look. It’s a boy. Seventeen, maybe.

“You’re okay,” he says. “You’re going to be all right.”

There is a young girl next to him, the same age. They must have been on one of those blankets I saw.

After a couple of minutes, I finally get my breathing under control.

Yep, this is real.

No dream.

“Thank you,” I say.

“No problem,” says the boy. “I’m going to call for an ambulance.”

“No! I’m fine.”

He looks at his girlfriend with a quizzical expression. “I don’t know. I think I’d better call an ambulance.”

“Look at me!” I say in my best Lukas Thorn impression. “Don’t call an ambulance!”

They both freeze in position, staring at me.

“Here’s your purse,” says the girl. “It washed up beside you.”

“Thanks. Washed up?”

“Yeah,” says the girl. “It was weird. It was like you were carried by something and just plopped down onto the sand. Troy and I just ran over and brought you here to our blanket.”

I close my eyes for a long second. “So it wasn’t you that carried me into shore? I felt hands lifting me.”

“No,” says the boy. “We were just lying here on this blanket.”

“Are you sure you didn’t see someone? I swear I felt hands.”

The boy and girl look at each other again. “Yeah, we’re sure. There was nobody out there besides you.”

I look around. I’m still here. I’m alive. A little waterlogged, but okay. The girl stares at me with big eyes.

“Maybe it was a spirit,” she says.

A chill passes through me.

Zander! I remember now. I saw Zander!

I grab the boy’s arm and squeeze. “Did you see anyone walking around here? A boy about my age? Twenty-one. Tall and skinny with black bushy hair?”

They look at each other yet again. Both shake their heads and say “no” at the same time.

Okay, this is weird.

Gotta get the fuck out of here and back to the Redmond Apts.

“Well, thank you,” I say. “Thank you so much. It’s nice to meet you.”

They both smile and nod. “I’m Troy,” says the boy, “and this is my girlfriend Sherry.”

“Hi, Troy and Sherry, I’m Abigail.” I stand up. I’m a little wobbly, but I’m okay. “Thanks for saving my life. Look, I owe you. I’d take your number, but I think my phone must be dead after that. Where was my purse, by the way?”

“Right next to you,” says Sherry. “It just washed up and landed beside you, right over there.”

I look over at the spot to which she points. Nothing there now. “Okay, well, I’m on Facebook. Abigail Trowbridge. It says Concord, Massachusetts even though I kinda sorta live here now. Maybe. Friend me, okay? I’d like to be friends, seeing as you saved my life and all.”

“Yeah,” they both say at the same time.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” says Troy.

I look around one more time, scanning for any sign of Zander.

“Yes,” I lie. “I’m fine.”

As I walk off the beach back onto 15th Street toward Collins, I notice that the world appears much more solid. The pavement beneath my feet is hard. If one of these pavers were removed from its place in the sidewalk, its sharp edges would indeed cut me.

Hm.

This is real after all, isn’t it?

Chapter 8

It’s eleven o’clock the following morning. I’m sitting at an outdoor table under an umbrella outside of Starbucks at the Lincoln Road Mall waiting for my dad.

For a girl who nearly drowned the night before, I woke up surprisingly early and refreshed at seven.

First mission was to dry out the contents of my purse and get the sand out. Second mission was to get a new phone.

I’ve been meaning to upgrade to an iPhone anyway, so I walked over to the Apple store and bought one using Zander’s debit card, which wasn’t affected by the salt water apparently.

As soon as it was activated, it exploded with new texts and calls.

Shit.

Okay, gotta face some of this.

First up, my dad. He’s been calling nonstop. Good ol’ Trevor must not have told him where I’m staying, which I appreciate.

Which reminds me, where is Trevor? He didn’t come back last night, not that I expected him to after the previous night. He said he had a mission to accomplish while he was here. I wonder what that was.

So I called my dad and agreed to meet him for lunch.

I was all upset over him and Karissa before, but now I’m kind of numb.

This morning, sipping my Frappuccino under the green umbrella as I watch the people go by, I’m oddly unfazed about anything.

Maybe that’s what a near-death experience does to you. Maybe everything will seem NBD to me from now on.

There he is. I see him walking toward me.

Oh shit, Trevor is with him.

Well, of course, Abigail! Trevor is his chauffeur slash bodyguard slash hooker provider.

My dad looks ridiculous next to Trevor. He’s all soft and pudgy, kind of roly-poly. Mostly bald, with what’s left gray going white. The mustache is back. It seems to take every other year off.

He’s dressed like he thinks all rich tourists should dress in Miami. Yellow Polo shirt, plaid shorts, and Sperry Top-siders.

Don’t get me wrong. I love my dad. He’s always been good to me. But I always got the sense that he wanted to be somewhere else.

Sucking cock, maybe.

I laugh to myself again as they near the table, Trevor resplendent in his usual black suit. Our eyes meet for a second of pure passion, almost nabbing my pussy again with an intense lightning bolt.

“Hello, Abigail,” says my dad sheepishly with his head down.

I stand up, move toward him, and hug him. “Hi, Dad. Sit.”

“I’m going to shop a bit,” says Trevor.

“No, you stay too.”

Trevor gives me a look like he’d rather have his balls chopped off. “No, I want to check out a store over here. You two talk.”

I give him a yeah right look. Trevor hates stores. He throws me a panty-melting smile and saunters off.

Deep breath.

And . . .

Back to dad.

I sit.

“Want a coffee?” I say.

I’ve never seen my dad this nervous. He’s fidgeting something furious, not to mention sweating buckets. “No, thanks. So . . . um . . . hi.”