The Seine River

[The Exodus]

Alexander Sokoll

Alexander the godfather (God, that made him sound like a mafia don) would have been horrified by Jules sitting on Rafael. He would have reprimanded, plucked him off and said something about ‘what would your mom say?!?’ not because it was the worst thing a kid could do, but because he was so desperate to impress Esperanza. But Alexander the dad was wearily amused. There was no Esperanza to impress; the looks from other parents or judgmental passersby were immaterial. Alexander shook his head and grinned lopsidedly. Jules returned the smile, as though jumping on Rafael was some conspiratorial act in which he took pride.

“Yeah! He’s cute! And really light. Oh!” he caught sight of the girl beside him. “Is this Serena? She’s so lovely! They’re precious, Alex.”

“Thanks,” Alexander said. Serena, at the mention of her name, stuffed her fingers deeper into her mouth and shifted behind Alexander a little more. “Sorry Serena’s so shy. She’s usually this way. Used to be like this with me, actually. Jules, though…”

Alexander chuckled. Jules had always been outgoing. Alexander remembered how much baby Jules liked to be held, how fascinating he found Alexander—more precisely, Alexander’s tie—the day they’d met. Alexander tugged Serena with him to sit by Rafael, put her on his lap.

“How’s life?” Alexander asked Rafael. “You look good, man. Take it you’re mad busy at the opera house.”

[Lets_Eat_Paste]

Rafael Lamaroux

“Thanks. Sorry Serena’s so shy. She’s usually this way. Used to be like this with me, actually. Jules, though…”

Rafael smiled at the young girl and waved kindly. Someday, hopefully soon, she would warm up to him. Rafael was more a child than adult himself, so maybe she’d find a friend in him where a stranger once sat.

“How’s life? You look good, man. Take it you’re mad busy at the opera house.”

“I’m feelin’ good, Alexander. Opera house has me up to here,” Rafael indicated a height at his eyebrows, “in work, but it’s good. As far as life goes, a little less busy if you exclude the move. Ye old apartment looks more like a warehouse facility than a home, but, eh, it’s worth it, you know?”

Maybe Alexander didn’t. Their Skype chats were farther and fewer between and maybe Rafael had neglected to tell his best friend about Jennifer moving in, about the coconut incident, about the music mishap… Every conversation before “Esperanza’s dead” was a bit of a hazy, beige colored blur, as if someone drained all the sound from them, leaving nothing but soundless images. Her death really was a tragedy. He could see her loss in the resemblance of the faces of her children, and she could see, even through his brave face, the sadness in Alexander’s eyes. His heart broke for him. If there was anything he needed, anything at all, Rafael was there for him. Just like old times.

[The Exodus]

Alexander Sokoll

It wasn’t hard to be jealous of Rafael’s good fortune. Alexander was envious that his friend held the title Danseur Noble in a dance program Alexander had built. And that Rafael’s girlfriend was alive and well and loving. And that Rafael was healthy and unfettered by stresses like in-laws you didn’t ask for and life insurance policies and moving to a foreign country.

Also, he was thrilled.

What kind of friend would he be if all he did was grouse about the injustice of the cosmos? Come on. He’d known Rafael longer than anyone except his parents and siblings. He counted Rafael as one of the few people he could trust with anything. And it wasn’t as though Ray was getting a free lunch here.

Alexander thought of Jennifer’s face on the news, reported as a Prisoner of War. He thought of Pierce Rowe, hunting down not only Esperanza, but Rafael’s baby sister, Simone, too. He thought of Rafael’s scars and the bullet he’d taken for Jen. If anyone deserved happiness, it was Rafael Lamaroux. End of story.

“I’mfeelin’good, Alexander. Opera house has me up to here,” Rafael indicated a height at his eyebrows, “in work, but it’s good. As far as life goes, a little less busy if you exclude the move. Ye old apartment looks more like a warehouse facility than a home, but, eh, it’s worth it, you know?”

“Move?” Alexander repeated. “Ray, you didn’t sell our place. Tell me you didn’t sell our place.”

While Alexander had no claim on the apartment he’d once shared with Rafael, he thought of that place as home. Maybe he always would. It was a place for simpler, happier times when he had friends and his biggest trouble was trying to make a soufflé to impress Esperanza and sate her pregnancy cravings. He always thought if he or Rafael lived there, the world would be in balance. Now, panic gripped his heart. The kind of panic he got when Jules ducked out of sight behind a display rack in the mall or when the babysitter neglected to mention why Serena was covered head-to-toe in red stuff Alexander would have sworn was blood. Primal. Animalistic. Instinctual fear.

“Right?”

[Lets_Eat_Paste]

Rafael Lamaroux

Alexander’s smile, which had already not met his eyes, fell deeper, creating fissures and lines that seemed to age him. “Move? Ray, you didn’t sell our place. Tell me you didn’t sell our place… Right?”

But even with Alexander’s gloomy face, Rafael smiled and let out a laugh. “Sell? Sell?!” Rafael was amused. “Not even. No…” Rafael paused and took in a deep breath, letting the truth sink in. Jen moved in. Jennifer Hennings moved in. His girlfriend of three and a half years moved in. It was like a date 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, plus the daily, mundane responsibilities. It was a huge leap, an accomplishment, a wonderful leap to the next stepping stone over the river of life. He took a moment to train his tongue how to say the words. “Jen moved in. She… she actually moved in. It all happened when,” but a movement out of the corner of his eyes reminded him that there were kids around. “Well, I’ll tell you some other time how it happened, buddy. We’ve got time, because I assume you’ll be staying with until your place is ready. It’s always open to you. You used to live there, for baby Jesus’s sake, you know!” He said with a laugh.

It was always going to be Alexander’s home, regardless of where he lived and who lived in the apartment.

“Plus, it’ll be nice for Jen and I to have a home-cooked meal. We haven’t had one since she met the fam back in Cali.” That had been an adventure. Also a story for another time.

The apartment was a mess and they had no food (hence all the fast food and restaurant bills), that having a kitchen seemed almost pointless. They might as well turn it into a bedroom or an art studio for Jen or something. But now, after tidying up, they’d have Alexander to cook for them (which would result in tasty left overs for a month) and cute kids to help look after. “You could have your old room, too. Haven’t actually used it,” he confessed.

[Deleted]

Rachel Day

Google had not helped in the least, but it hadn’t stopped Rachel from sitting in front of her computer screen and attempt to conquer the puppy stroke-breast paddle, or whatever it was called! Diagrams were confusing though, and the faceless model the website used eventually looked like it had five arms from how hard she was staring at it. Was Rachel Day supposed to grow five arms to win this race or something? The way it was looking, when Rachel filled up her bathroom sink and practiced holding her breath and shooting out bubbles- which ended up in a choke and water to be spewing from holes that water should never spew from- she would need fins and long red hair if she were ever going to become a swimmer. Rachel Day was not very accepting of failure, and was certainly not accepting the fact that she would lose a swim race with her arch enemy at the gym tomorrow morning. She had felt like Ariel up against Ursula… only, Rachel at this rate would really be the skeleton fish in the sea that had no idea how to use its fins!

No, this just would not be something that Rachel would settle as a marked loss. She was Rachel Day! This blonde, large chested, cackling hyena at her gym had never survived adventures of killing someone in a manager’s office! She had probably never been undercover at the scary side of Paris, and she sure as heckles had never even come close to holding a Tony Award in her life! Rachel would win. She had to win… because she wasn’t so into the idea of canceling her gym membership and paying that early cancellation fee. This is what she would have done tonight if it weren’t what Rachel Day made in one paycheck.

All of this mustering determination had brought her here, to the Seine. Rachel Day had pricked at her mind to figure out what she could do. She did not have a bath tub to practice, Myron would probably think she were some flailing idiot she asked to use his hot tub, and really, there was no one Rachel could go to about this. It was mortifying! Rachel had faced near death already when Santiago Ortiz threw her into the… and that’s when all the Christmas lights went on in her brain. Rachel could trust Santiago, and she had already proven to him of her lack of skills- and if she were remembering clearly, which she so was, because she had busted out her pink fluffy diary from a couple years ago and read- that he owed it to her to teach her.

Rachel stood with her bare white color toes curled around the edge of the dock, squiggling her nose in thought as she looked out into the body of water that the moon was bouncing off of. She held her pink and purple polka dotted towel that was wrapped around her swimming suit tightly, and was thankful that it was a scorching night- the water looking so mighty refreshing, but again, she couldn’t just very well hop on in it!

It was almost midnight, and Rachel Day had been slightly shocked when Santiago had actually agreed. Though, she wasn’t shy to remind him just why he owed it to her- which, talk about bringing up the past on her part. The past had been very much in her head lately. She had explained everything to him in a little bit of a rant, not letting how worked up she was about this hide. Still, it wasn’t like he had never heard that tone ever. She had actually had her bathing suit on when she called him, leaving her enough time to sit down and read through her diary she had brought out. Rachel smiled to herself, barking out a laugh that echoed in her new studio apartment about the time they had attempted to do laundry together, and the neighbors thinking that they were doing the dirty deed! Rachel had found herself feeling all, sentimental, missing those times and missing Santiago- although usually he was just around the corner in the other room of his office. Still … a girl could still crush, couldn’t she?

Rachel had no time for all of that thinking right now. It could have been the results of living alone and getting a little stir crazy because lately it seemed like she had no social life- unless she was dealing with a bully at the gym. She took a breath, become so irritated with herself, because she was a perfectionist and she was good at the things she chose to do! Right now, she chose to swim. So, Rachel Day slowly let go of her towel as it fell to her toes, and held her nose with her two fingers. She could feel her heart beat going absolutely crazy like the curtain was about to open before a show or something!

Slowly but surely, Rachel made her way down to a sitting position. Then…

She put her feet in the water.

Rachel Day smiled, examining her feet in the water. There! She was halfway swimming. Goodness, was this ever pathetic. With her feet still in the water, splashing around, Rachel growled to herself, throwing her body backward so she was lying on the dock.

She would stay here until the sun came out if she had to!

[The Exodus]

Santiago Ortiz

Santiago Ortiz was a night owl. Anyone who knew him knew he was just as likely to answer his phone at midnight as he was to answer at noon. Which was to say, it was very unlikely he’d ever answer his phone. Santiago disliked cell phones almost as much as he disliked public transportation. He preferred face-to-face conversations. So, instead of answering, Santiago often looked at his Caller ID, recognized the name and tossed the phone aside. If it was someone he liked or who was otherwise important, Santiago would listen to the message left for him and if it seemed worth it, he’d call back after letting them sweat it out a little. It was a surefire way to avoid telemarketers and annoying clients. His friends—those few he had—knew he’d always call back within a reasonable time frame. So Santiago wondered if he was losing his mind when he answered Rachel’s call on the second ring.

He supposed Rachel was the exception to his rule. He had little love for text messaging—which she’d always been fond of—so answering was the quickest way to avoid texting. But Santiago had two far more important reasons to answer the phone when Rachel called.

The first was that she was his assistant (“Secretary,” as snarky, less personable part of his brain corrected just to be contrary). If she was calling him this late, it could easily be work-related. And in their field, work stuff could not always wait. Sometimes, it could be a life-or-death matter. As a Private Detective, Santiago was always on call. And Rachel was the one who took most of his calls. She might have something important—dire, even—to tell him.

But the second reason was that Rachel was Santiago’s ex-girlfriend and a long time ago, he’d promised to protect her from her gangster father. More recently, he’d taken her under his wing because her father was hunting her down. That was why she was his assistant—or secretary, depending on which title you preferred. Santiago was looking out for her, keeping close tabs on her. It was the dead of night and she was phoning him. The possibility that her apartment had been broken into—as her dorm had what seemed like a dozen years ago—was not so far fetched. Hell, it could have been a ransom call from her phone.

Instead, it was an invitation to go swimming.

Santiago was confused. It was dark. It was night. Even he, who’d been born by the sea and who had grown up scampering along the docks and the hulls of fishing boats, didn’t get the hankering to swim at night. Water was dangerous and Santiago had a great amount of respect for it. He’d seen a shark once as a boy. He had been swimming with some cousins and second cousins in the Mediterranean Sea. The sun had been shining, burning his scalp and shoulders. He’d been chasing one of the boys—he forgot which these days—when something like wet sandpaper brushed against his foot. Santiago dismissed it as flotsam, drifting through the water. But then, a woman a few yards down yelled, “Tiburon! Tiburon!” and fled to shore. From the dock, Mama and some of the other women started to shout to Santiago and the other children to get back to shore. Santiago scrambled up the pier supports and to the dock itself. He hazarded a look back out to the sea and moving slowly in the water was a large, dark shape that was unmistakably a shark. It had to have been fifteen or twenty feet long. Sleek and fast moving, it was gone within seconds, swimming out of the shallows and in search for prey. Even still, eight year old Santiago refused to get back into the water the rest of the day and instead spent the rest of the afternoon, squeezing his splintered hand out over the water from the docks, hoping that the little drops of blood might bring the shark back.

As an adult, he had lost some of that childish fascination with sharks and sea monsters. And yet, when Rachel first tried to persuade him out to the river tonight, he resisted. It was madness to swim after dark. Monsters sometimes came into the shallows; rip-tides could drag you under and eat you up whole. Even ships—big ones, cargo barges—got lost in the night. Santiago was a night owl, but he preferred to prowl on land until sunrise.

And then Rachel pointed out that he owed her.

It was a strange debt to owe. And at first, Santiago denied owing it. He didn’t owe her anything anymore, now that they weren’t together. He almost pointed that out and told her to go back to sleep. But before the words could even form, he silenced himself. He knew Rachel. She had a stubborn streak to rival his own. If he refused to teach her to swim tonight, there was no guarantee she would meekly accept and go to bed. Instead, Santiago could imagine her trekking out to the Seine and braving the current alone, making an early and watery grave for herself. The girl couldn’t swim. And Santiago had promised to protect her, even if he didn’t remember promising to teach her to swim. He’d failed Catalina already. He could still imagine her, unmoving and glassy eyed in the Le Meurice bathtub, thick, red flowers floating alongside her.

He agreed to meet Rachel at the river. He drove down the streets on his motorcycle, headlamp bright, and he pulled up to the dock he had long ago shown her. He dimmed his headlamp when he parked the bike. Santiago could see Rachel lying alone on the dock. Her feet dangled off the edge. Santiago planted his kickstand and left the bike on, but locked, so that the headlight illuminated his path. It exaggerated his shadow and the shadows of the trees around him and his silhouette reached Rachel before he did, draping over her and clouding her in darkness.

“If you’re going to sleep,” he said, grinning and shoving his hands into his pockets. “We can try this again in the morning. Like sane people.”

[Deleted]

Rachel Day

The stars were absolutely gorgeous. Rachel had not made it a point to enjoy nature, and she hadn’t had the resources to do so when she was living in the city. It was difficult to get away from the hustle and bustle that remained at all hours, and rarely did she ever hit a spot that she could look up and not see a twinkling skyscraper lit up. Rachel Day had always thought herself to be a city girl, but now that she was back in Paris- she knew that this was home. Her eyes drifted off into a long gaze up at the twinkling bulbs as they surrounded the moon. It was easy to get lost in something so beautiful like this, which is why when Santiago’s voice broke her daze; it took her a moment to return to planet dock.

“If you’re going to sleep,” Rachel Day’s eyes fluttered upward to behind her head where Santiago Ortiz stood, the moon lighting up his infamous smirk that she knew all too well. “We can try this again in the morning. Like sane people.”

Now that he was here, it was all business. Rachel took her challenges very seriously. Apart of her was relieved that Santiago was here, but she knew that he would show up if he said he would. He had always been a man of his word. Rachel just hoped that she wouldn’t look ridiculous in the process of this, but if she were going to look like a helpless goober flailing around in spastic splashes- she would rather it be Santiago to witness it over anyone else. Rachel did not know if that was honorable or not, but it was just the way it was.

“Not a chance.” She told him happily, shooting up to a sitting position, and plucking her feet out of the water. “I embrace my insanity."

Pushing to her feet, Rachel spun around to face him, and her face dropped. Santiago was wearing a full on outfit. Sure, he looked good in his signature apparel- the look worked for him. But, did he fail to realize that he would have to be swimming too? Where was his bathing suit? Rachel was wearing a pink bikini, but compared to him she felt naked. She put her hands at her sides, feeling highly under dressed.

“I know I’m not a professional fish when it comes to this swimming thing,” She told him squinting, “but I know that jeans and a t-shirt aren’t proper attire.”

[The Exodus]

Santiago Ortiz

Rachel sat up and Santiago couldn’t help but to be dismayed at her swimming costume. Instead of a normal bathing suit, she was wearing some pink, shiny thing that left little to the imagination. Or rather, in Santiago’s case, the swimsuit left very little to memory. He had once had intimate knowledge of Rachel’s every crevice, every freckle. Santiago honestly saw little point in that particular swimsuit. It didn’t do a good job covering her up and covering up was pointless. Never mind that the material looked like spun sugar. It just might dissolve in water.

“Not a chance I embrace my insanity."

Rachel stood up and she frowned. Santiago stared back, face unchanged.


“I know I’m not a professional fish when it comes to this swimming thing,” She told him squinting, “but I know that jeans and a t-shirt aren’t proper attire.”

“I know,” Santiago told her. He peeled off his shirt and folded it up. “But I drive a motorcycle. I didn’t want second degree burns on my legs.”

He slid out of his shoes and laid the shirt over them. Then, standing up straight shrugged. The night air was chilly against his bare skin, but not unpleasant. After a moment, the humidity kicked in and clung to him dewily. It reminded him vaguely of home. Vaguely. Nothing would ever quite compare to Malaga and the longer he was away, the sweeter the memories were.

“Better,” he said, raking a hand through his hair.

He walked past her and slid off the docks and into the blackish-blue water. It only reached his hips when Santiago stood full height. It wasn’t as cold as he’d expected and Santiago tested the floor with one foot. There were a few rocks, but nothing bigger than his fist. They could have definitely picked a worse place.

“Step one is getting in the water, chica,” he called out to her, bringing his legs up and floating on his back. “Try it.”

[Deleted]

Rachel Day

“I know." He told her, “But I drive a motorcycle. I didn’t want second degree burns on my legs.”

Rachel knew that he knew and knew that she knew, but really, it had been a way to get him to get more naked quicker. Which, sounded awful and creepy, but she just did not want to be the only one half naked. Her pink suit, she knew, probably showed off her parts a little too much, but it was a cute number! Rachel did not wear bathing suits for swimming purposes until tonight.

Santiago began taking his shirt and shoes off. She sent her eyes upward past his shoulder, giving him his privacy, and feeling a little awkward some reason watching him undress in front of her at such a close distance. If he had seen Rachel looking at him, because she knew her eyes would totally look at his chest, he'd think she were weird. Plus, it wasn't her place anymore to be able to have a look-see.

"Better."

Rachel turned as he walked past her, going over to the edge of the dock where she had been moments ago. She gasped when he just went right in, standing in the water. Walking over the edge of the dock, she watched as he made his way out. This wasn't really what she had in mind. Wasn't he suppose to go over a couple things outside of the water first? They were really just going to hop right into it? Rachel could feel her nerves beginning to get worked up as she looked down into the water, seeing a blurry image of her reflection.

“Step one is getting in the water, chica."

Santiago called out to her, making Rachel look up and see that he was floating on his back.

“Try it.”

Oh, this was all easy for him to say, wasn't it? She glared over at him. Rachel knew that she would have to do it, because if she didn't it meant that she could not do it, and she hated not being able to do something. She wanted to float on her back too! The fact that Santiago had just got right in and began floating around like it was a whole lotta' nothing made her more determined.

"Show off..." She grumbled out loud, not caring that it was loud enough for him to hear it.

Shutting her eyes with a deep breath, Rachel swallowed her fear and bent over at her knees. She hesitated, sticking out her hands as if she were going to hop in, but she retracted her hands and shot them around her knees not feeling comfortable doing that. Rachel twisted her head to the side with an uneasy expression, trying to figure out the easiest and safest way to do this. Collapsing onto the dock in a sitting position, she outstretched her legs, slowly sliding herself closer to the edge with her hands and the water coming up to her shins as she was now holding herself onto the dock. With wide eyes, getting closer and closer, Rachel had almost scurried back onto the dock, but she bit down on her lip. Not liking that she could see the water, she twisted around so her stomach was against the dock's edge, looking up as she shut her eyes and dropped herself lower into the water. Dropping herself lower, Rachel let out a light gasp when the water hit her stomach. With frantic hands, she moved a hand over to where the dock was behind held up grabbing a hold of it. Holding her breath, she jumped over and wrapped her arms around it, hugging it to her, becoming fully in the water but not letting go.

Rachel Day could touch her feet to the ground, but that did not mean she wanted to let go of the wooden leg anytime soon.

"Alrighty." She breathed, shutting her eyes and counting down. "One.. Two.. Three.."

Rachel pushed off the dock, her feet hitting the ground as she stood in the water and began walking around, the water coming up to a above stomach level. She nodded, relaxing a bit. She could do this standing thing, no problem.

"Now what?"

[The Exodus]

Santiago Ortiz

If Santiago could trade his lungs for gills, his feet for flippers, he just might. In the water, Santiago was as close to graceful as he could possibly be. Santiago could scarcely remember a time before he knew how to swim. He wondered how Rachel had never learned what kind of world New York City must have been, if she hadn’t had opportunity. He flexed his feet and put his hands behind his head, watching as she waded into the water as though worried it might be acid. Rachel gripped the dock for support, as though it was the only think keeping her alive. Santiago rolled his eyes and waited until she slowly waded away from it.

"Now what?" she asked.

“Now, lay back,” Santiago said. “You’ll float. Buoyancy. You arch your back, keep your backside tucked and you let the water pick you up.”

[Deleted]

Rachel Day


"Now, lay back."

Rachel's eyes snapped over to where Santiago was still floating.

“You’ll float. Buoyancy. You arch your back, keep your backside tucked and you let the water pick you up.”

She was getting angry. There he was, over there, floating with ease, calling out the steps to her like it was the most simple thing ever. For a moment, she stared at him with squinted eyes, her hands rolling into fists under water. Taking a breath, Rachel dipped back, trying to arch her back like he had said. Her muscles were tensing, and her face was sent into spasms when water came close to her ears. Pumping her arms in short little jolts underneath her body, she was a splashing mess.

Growling, Rachel stood up, spewing water out of her mouth and coughing. "Santiago, get over here, pah-lease!" She yelled. "This is not easy for me, okay?" Her cheeks were hot, and she was not looking at him, more to the water because Rachel was not mad at him but the stupid water! "I have no idea what the heck I'm doing, and if I don't win that race tomorrow morning, I'm going to be a loser forever!"

[The Exodus]

Santiago Ortiz

When Rachel struggled to stay afloat, Santiago struggled to suppress a laugh. She looked like a drowned animal, struggling to stay afloat. She swallowed a mouthful of water and struggled to her feet with a growl and a cough. Santiago stood up, not bothering to hide a grin. He let the darkness do that for him.

"Santiago, get over here, pah-lease!" Rachel shouted dramatically. "This is not easy for me, okay? I have no idea what the heck I'm doing, and if I don't win that race tomorrow morning, I'm going to be a loser forever!"

“Aww, pobrecita…” Santiago said, grinning madly. His sympathy dripped with sarcasm and he shook his head. Even still, Santiago waded over to her. “Are you really going to let some stupid dare define you? Give me a break, Rachel. That’s not you. Now. Do what I say. Lay back.”

[Deleted]

Rachel Day

“Aww, pobrecita…”

She had no idea what pro-br-see-tah, or whatever he just said meant, but she didn't like it.

Rachel wasn't a stranger to that slimy Santiago sarcasm, but it surely did not mean that she had missed it. Sometimes it was funny and it balanced her out, but right now all she wanted to do was splash that grin right off his face. Which, she would probably do by the end of the night. For now, she held still with an irritated expression as he came over to her.

“Are you really going to let some stupid dare define you? Give me a break, Rachel. That’s not you."

She looked at him silently. He didn't get it, did he? Of course, she wouldn't expect him to. Santiago had his detective agency. He could go out into the world unafraid. Rachel was lonely and bored. She couldn't go out into the world anymore. She had a desk job that was not her passion at all, and she could not do what she loved to do. So things like this, a stupid competition, were an enormous deal to her right now. Rachel Day wanted to feel some sort of accomplishment. Rachel could tell him that, but it would all seem so dramatic and he probably would come back with some wise cracking comment. She wouldn't tell him how much it meant to her, and she wouldn't tell him how much just having him around meant to her.

"Now. Do what I say. Lay back.”

"Fine." Rachel said quietly, not looking at him but the water. "But I'm using you."

Then she grabbed ahold of his bare arm on his bicep, holding it there for support. She sighed in anxiety, letting herself fall back, and using her other hand to grab ahold of the same arm too. She was practically craning herself up using him, not allowing her weight to lie against the water. Rachel lowered, but somehow she managed to scramble her legs to snatch around his forearm, so she was practically making herself be supported by him. Rachel ignored the sensations of his skin against hers. It had been awhile since she had been touched, and obviously it would grow very frustrating for a woman her age. Plus, they had been together for a year. To say that she wasn't attracted to him would be an outright lie, and she did not like lying. Rachel kept focused on the goal though, but her muscles had tensed.

"If we subtracted you're entire being existing right now," She teased through gritted tense teeth, "We could say I'm doin' it!"

[The Exodus]

Santiago Ortiz

While Rachel was not the most serene of souls, Santiago never would have expected a dare to mean so much to her. The idea of pride and proving oneself seemed to Santiago a branch of an old, acquisitive need borne from the days when man earned his place in a cave-tribe by bringing home the most mammoth meat. It was animalistic, primal, and—the way Santiago saw it—masculine. Women always seemed smarter, more civilized than that. Hard working, but not needlessly competitive. You didn’t hear about women dying in drag races or a woman bragging about how many people she’d killed or slept with and dying for it because someone wanted revenge. A dare at the pool was only a stone’s throw from all of that. Santiago wondered when it was that Rachel climbed down an evolutionary rung to his level.

He wondered if it was his fault she was thinking like this. If somehow, he’d inspired her to pick fights or take dares. He shut his eyes. He decided he could no longer blame himself for Rachel’s choices, since he was her friend and her boss, but not her boyfriend. He also decided that any royal f*ck ups would be on his own time and not hers. From now on, he’d be professional and well behaved, just in case he still had some influence on her.

"Fine," Rachel said quietly. "But I'm using you."

Before Santiago could protest—and the words were scrambling to get out of his mouth—Rachel grabbed his bicep. She held it and Santiago pulled himself to full height, trying to gain control of himself, since non-emergency touching ought to have been taboo between exes, and he watched as Rachel grabbed onto the same arm with the opposite hand, too. It hadn’t been so long ago that Rachel clinging to him for support was the norm, but now as Santiago watched her struggling on her back below him, he knew this wasn’t “normal”.

Here he was, thirty two years old, and still getting out of bed for a woman he no longer had claim to. If Rachel’s need to compete with strangers at a gym was a step backwards for human evolution, Santiago had sunk to no better than a dog. He shouldn’t care so much about what Rachel was doing and why she was doing it. Santiago told himself that it was unmanly, base, humiliating, that he’d turned into the guy she could call at midnight to use as a life preserver. But he still stood there anyways, letting her hold him as if her life depended on it.

And then Rachel’s legs wrapped around Santiago’s forearm. His eyes opened and he stared at her, dumbfounded. Once those same legs wrapped around his torso with the same conviction.

"If we subtracted your entire being existing right now," She teased through gritted tense teeth, "We could say I'm doin' it!"

“We could,” Santiago said back. “But we’d be lying. You’re too tense, chica. You’d sink if I let go. Like a rock.”

He peeled her carefully off of him so that she was standing up. Then, walking around behind her, Santiago placed a hand on the small of her back.

“Try this again,” he said. “Lay back and I’ll hold you here and—“ He placed a hand at the base of her skull. “—Here for support. Okay?”

[Deleted]

Rachel Day

Was it so bad that Rachel was enjoying this? Sure, her goal and reason for being here was specifically for swimming reasons, but apart of her, had missed Santiago's touch. She was never certain that she had ever truly gotten over him. He was her first love and perhaps no girl ever did. He probably was so not appreciating this, since she was pretty much clinging onto him with all of her weight like a drowning puppy, but the fact that he had made it out tonight made Rachel believe that Santiago still wanted to at least be her friend. After all, he had told her she was the only one he truly trusted when he asked her to work for him. Rachel Day was finished thinking about the new 'them'. It was all so much of reading into things. For now, she would just be and enjoy the tingling sensations that began around her thighs that clung onto his arm and her stomach that rubbed up against his. It felt naughty, but in a good kind of way.

“We could. But we’d be lying. You’re too tense, chica. You’d sink if I let go. Like a rock.”

Rachel breathed in and out, trying to not tense so much, but her entire being was scrunching up in fear that she would be let go and had to face the water. She obviously wasn't ready for that step. The imagery of sinking, like he said, only made her even more tense. When he plucked her off of him, Rachel allowed him to move her into a standing position. She caught her breath, her muscles relaxing. She felt her breath suck in when Santiago went behind her. It was almost like she could feel him behind her when he wasn't even touching her. Rachel looked out into the water with parted lips.

“Try this again," Santiago told her, the moment becoming a little more calm. Rachel's back erected when his hand touched her tenderly in the small of her back. It was gentle but supportive. “Lay back and I’ll hold you here and—“ His other hand met her head. “—Here for support. Okay?”

Nodding, she took a deep breath. "I trust you." Rachel reminded him before leaning back into his hands, allowing her weight to fall as her body hit the water, his hands still supporting her from underneath. Her eyes met the night sky and from the corner she could see Santiago's face above her. She shut her eyes and focused on the water from underneath her and what it felt like to just float. It was shockingly relaxing, but of course, it was because she had her own personal human seat belt at this point. The top of her body was out of the water, every once in awhile the water leaking onto her bare skin from underneath. It was like the water was her own personal raft.

"Alright." She murmured calmly, a small smile creeping on her lips. "This isn't too bad." Poking open one of her eyes, she looked at Santiago, teasing her own self, "Of course I say that now when you're holding me."