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sixteen and never been kissed, I think regretfully.

      Shaking off the thought, I set out for the beach in a slow but steady back-crawl, using my left arm, tilting my head back in the sea, and gazing up at the darkened sky as I swim. My long, pale hair floats to the top of the water, fanning out around our heads. The only sounds audible with my ears beneath the surface are the stones shifting against each other, as if in a sigh. Night’s fallen during the last few minutes, and sparkling stars have appeared in the velvet sky. It looks like there are a thousand at least, twinkling and saying hello. Telling us they’re here and that they see us too.

      There’s something magical about the moment despite the circumstances, and I can’t help but take in the view. The starry sky stretches above us, no end in sight. It’s like this boy and I are the only two people in the world. There’s just us, in the water. Everyone else has faded away and been forgotten. But strangely that’s okay. It’s comfortable. Right.

      The moment lingers. ‘Beautiful,’ I whisper, tilting my head to see more stars.

      ‘Yeah’ echoes back, and I know I’ve spoken in his ear again.

      ‘Jake!’ I recognise his voice, and for a brief pause I stop swimming. Even though I’m in chilly water, the warmth of embarrassment creeps over my skin. I wince. This isn’t how I’d imagined seeing him again, especially after earlier. Talk about awkward.

      He doesn’t reply, but I hear him mutter shit under his breath as I resume swimming.

      Before I’m ready for it, I feel smooth hard points beneath my legs and realise I’ve swum us all the way to shore with barely any effort. Planting my feet on the bottom, I stand up, helping him wade in. The water comes up to my hips and his thighs. It’s so dark, the night air is like a blanket, and the fire is too far away to let me see his expression.

      Bending over at the waist, he coughs a few times and inhales sharply before stumbling to the water’s edge. I follow him, hovering uncertainly and watching as he collapses in a heap, straightening his leg out before grabbing his foot and pulling his toes up toward his body. Muttering some swear words under his breath that would make even Grandad with his Navy background flinch, he massages the arch of his foot with a groan. The longer he works on it, the more it returns to its normal shape. His thick black hair is plastered to his head, and he rakes both hands through it, leaving it stuck up in damp tufts. At last, he looks up at me. One of the clouds covering the moon passes, and it shines down on us, painting his face a ghostly white.

      ‘Jake,’ I whisper hesitantly. ‘Are you okay?’ Given how I just helped him, he doesn’t look pleased to see me. ‘Are you hurt? What happened? That was scary.’ For both of us, I add silently. Not to mention unsettling. I close my eyes, blushing. I was right up against him, our bodies touching. There’s a weird feeling in my stomach, but I don’t like him in that way.

      ‘I’m fine,’ he says through gritted teeth, as I open my eyes, ‘stop fussing.’

      ‘S-sorry,’ I stutter in a high voice, too shocked to say anything else.

      Stepping away, I shiver in the night air. My white T-shirt’s soaked and sticking to my body. Pulling it away from my swimsuit helps a little, but not much. I need a towel and some dry clothes. Glancing along the beach, I notice everyone’s still singing, their choral voices soaring. For all intents and purposes, Jake and I might as well be alone together on the beach in the shadow of Durdle Door. It’s weird – only ten minutes have passed since I realised someone was in trouble and dove in after them, but I feel like I’ve aged ten years. Like the girl who came out of the sea is a different one to the girl who went in. Maybe that’s what happens when you save a life – you change your own.

      The thought makes me cross. I did a good thing, so why’s Jake being like this? Why’s he acting like I tried to drown him, rather than help him? He could have easily been swept out by the current that tried to steal us away. ‘You know, you could at least say thank you,’ I hurl at him, teeth chattering. ‘Without me, you’d have been in real trouble.’

      He pushes himself off the ground, avoiding my eyes. ‘No, I wouldn’t. I didn’t need any help. I’d have been fine as soon as I got rid of the cramp.’ Shrugging his broad shoulders, he bunches up fistfuls of his black swimming shorts, squeezing out the water.

      ‘That’s rubbish! You were sinking fast, and the current was strong. You would’ve been gone before anyone knew it. And what were you doing jumping off the top of the Door anyway? It’s practically suicide. Have you got a death wish?’

      ‘No.’ His voice turns cold, the new depth in it making him sound like a man. Then I realise he must be almost eighteen so he is practically a man. ‘I just thought it would be a cool thing to do. Owen dared me. You sound like my mum,’ he drawls, in a bored tone, ‘and I don’t need another one of those. Thanks, though.’

      I glare at him. ‘I thought I was too hard on you earlier – I felt bad about it actually – but you are so rude, and an idiot too if you think a dare is worth risking your life for!’

      ‘If you say so.’

      The final cloud drifts away and the moon shines its cool light more brightly on his face. The planes are smooth and hard, but there’s still some softness around his chin. The scar leading down into his top lip seems fainter than it used to. His eyes glint as they look me up and down.

      Hugging my arms around my middle, the breeze drifting across the beach makes me shiver again. Suddenly I’m cold and tired, longing for a hot shower and my bed. There’s salt drying in crusty zig-zags along my skin and my hair is dripping cool water down my spine. Shaking my head, I stare at him. I want to go home. I’m done with this. ‘Whatever,’ I reply, swinging around to leave. ‘If you’re not even going to say thank you … or apologise for earlier … See you around.’

      ‘Me, apologise?’ His voice makes me jolt. ‘You were the one who said we’re not friends.’

      ‘We’re not,’ I flash. He didn’t stay in touch, so how can we be friends? Well, I’m not spelling it out for him.

      ‘So why did you help then? And why bawl me out for saving you earlier, but think that it’s okay to do the same for me? It’s a bit hypocritical, isn’t it?’

      Turning, I gaze at him, pulling the hem of my T-shirt down. ‘I didn’t know who I was saving at the time, did I?’ As soon as it leaves my mouth, I realise how awful it sounds. That if I’d known it was him, I’d have left him there to drown. I rush on. ‘And maybe it does make me a hypocrite, but all I knew was someone was in trouble, and no one else had realised. I didn’t have a choice; I had to help.’

      ‘There’s always a choice.’

      ‘Not for me. What was I supposed to do, let someone drown?’ He opens his mouth, but I keep talking. ‘Anyway, now I know it’s you, I’m glad. Now you can consider us even.’ They feel right, those last few sentences on my lips, the shape and sound of them. I’ve just very probably saved his life, and when he took the blame for me that day at school, he unknowingly saved mine. Our school, my friends, the stability I’ve had with Dad and Grandad over the last few years, saved me. No more running away, no more losing control of my rage and frustration, no more silly decisions with disastrous consequences. I feel the skin on my lower back itch despite my drenched T-shirt, and wish for the hundredth time I’d been left unmarked by that night. Not just physically, but mentally too.

      ‘We’re not even. We don’t need to be. You don’t owe me anything,’ Jake snaps. ‘I used you.’

      ‘Used me how?’ The moon is swallowed up by another cloud and his face flickers back into darkness. ‘Jake?’ I demand, stepping forward.

      ‘I wanted out of there,’ he says. ‘Getting expelled from school was how I was going to do it. Mum was in on it. Luckily for me, it worked.’

      ‘So, you took the blame as part of some grand plan? I could have been anyone?’

      ‘Yes.’

      He

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