Deep End

by Ali Hazelwood

Come on, Mrs. Sima. Read the Swede.

“Oh my god, you guys. I just had the best idea in the fucking universe!” She glances at Lukas, at me, at Lukas again. She’s going to bring up something ridiculous that only sounds good to a drunk person. Let’s go to Taco Bell. Let’s prank call our middle school teachers. Let’s shave our eyebrows. I’m desperately looking for a gentle way to talk her out of karaoke—and then stop. Because what Pen actually says is, “You two should have sex!”

Unknown: On my way I stare into the abyss of those three words—and boy, does the abyss stare back.

“Why are you so nervous, Scarlett?” “Me? I’m not.” Lie. “Is it because you feel uncomfortable around me—” “No, I—” “Or because you think I don’t know where Pen is?” My stomach plummets. I try to look at him, but his hold stays strong. “Calm down.” His voice is even-keeled. “You know you don’t have to feel guilty about any of this, right? It’s something you were dragged into. I’m just glad that cutting out your air supply last week didn’t kill any brain cells.”

I turn around, head home, fall asleep before I can eat dinner. And wake up early the following morning, ravenous, to an email delivered a little after midnight. The subject line just reads What you need. The body: If you decide to go for it, I think it should be me.

“I don’t dive in constant fear of injury,” I say firmly, knowing it to be true. “I don’t doubt it, Scarlett. I believe that fear of injury is not a motivating factor in your issues.” Sam cocks her head. “But then I have to ask—if you’re not afraid of getting hurt, what are you afraid of?”

“The way you’re acting with me. What you did on Wednesday. Is it some kind of game? I can’t figure out if you’re hitting on me, or just…Is it because I didn’t take you up on your offer when you emailed? Are you trying to convince me that I made a mistake?” “I have no interest in that.” I must look skeptical, because he continues. “What I want from you requires enthusiastic consent, not convincing.”

“You know what fucks with my head?” It must be a rhetorical question, because he continues: “You’re at ease with me. I don’t think you realize it, but you tend to move closer when others are around. Sometimes you look to me, for reassurance maybe. And we’re alone right now and there are no signs of distress, and—at some point you chose to trust me, and you get why that gets me going so hard, right?” His voice is a slow roll that starts in his chest, travels through our limbs, ends in the red of my cheeks, the spill between my legs. For people like me, like him—like us—trust is the real currency. I nod, hazy. “Thank fuck,” he exhales, and my lips part against his thumb without meaning to.

“You love this, don’t you?” His hold slackens just enough to allow a verbal response. “I do.” His thighs tense under my hands, as though he wanted to hear it as badly as I wanted to say it. My jaw is a little sore, but I can barely feel it when he says, “That’s good. Because you look fantastic with my cock in your mouth.”

“Okay?” he asks. His voice is so shaken, I wonder if that should be my line. I turn a little and lift my hand, letting it run through the soft hair at the side of his head, where it’s shorter than the top. He leans into it like a pet, still trying to catch his breath. “Yeah. You?” He doesn’t say yes. What he does say is, “Fuck,” which means nothing and everything at once.

Fuck, we’re really doing this. Fuck, your roommates are here, and I’m sure I lost consciousness at some point, and I hope they had headphones on. Fuck, I thought it would be good, and it still felt so much better than it should have.

“Have you ever hiked around this area?” “Oh, yes. Several times. I’m happy to give you some recs, if—” “Nah, we know where we’re going. Would love for you to come with us, though.” Oh. Oh. “Thank you, that’s really lovely, but…” Does he think I’m Lukas’s girlfriend? “But?” Say that you have class. A date. Say something about being allergic to the sun. But when I sneak a glance at Lukas and find him staring, all I feel is a frisson of annoyance that he’s not the one put in the unpleasant position of lying to his kind brother, and what comes out of my mouth is “I doubt Lukas wants me to go with you guys.” It’s, at least, the truth. Which is why I’m taken aback by the deep laughter that pops out of Jan. “I’m no mind reader, but I know my brother, and he very much wants you to come. And even if he didn’t…” His smile is a bottomless pool of charm. “I want you to come. That’s what matters.”

“Even if it’s just sex, it’s not a good idea for me to be with someone who resents wanting me.”

“Why do you care?” Lukas doesn’t answer, doesn’t tense up, doesn’t show a single ounce of discomfort. Typical. “By process of elimination…” I lift my index finger. “You’re not warning him off out of jealousy, because that’s not a feeling you are capable of entertaining.” He watches me, unknowable. “It’s not because you want to get laid. I mean, you have other options. You won what, four, five races today?” His lack of reply tells me it might be more. Whatever. Middle finger: up. “You contributed more to Stanford winning the meet than the entire diving team. Maybe for competition purposes, you should be considered an institution. Get a .org domain, save on taxes—” “Scarlett,” he says simply, like he wants me to stop rambling. But not because he finds me annoying. It is, I think, because he wants to say, “I’m sorry.”

“You and I,” he continues, “agreed to trust each other, did one of the most intimate things two people like us can—” “Wasn’t that big a deal. It was just sex—” “Scarlett.” He waits until I’m looking him in the eye. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t immediately process what happened. I felt out of control, and panicked. I acted like an asshole. I put my own fear before your feelings, and that’s…the most fucked-up thing I’ve ever done, without a doubt.”

“I owe you respect, I owe you care, and I owe you the truth. You, on the other hand, do not owe me forgiveness. But if you ever enter this kind of relationship with someone else…” His jaw grinds, tense. I don’t think he likes the idea. “These are the things you should demand.”

“You love to be hurt, Scarlett. Just enough pain that you won’t even think about not doing what I ask.” He leans down. His skin is rough against my cheek. “I love giving that to you, and I’m going to for as long as you’ll let me.”

“That list, Scarlett?” His mouth slides against mine, messy, uncoordinated, sharing air that feels dangerously thin and hard to come by. “I’m going to do it all to you. All of it. And when I’m done, I’ll do it again. And if you don’t ask me to stop, I’ll do it again—”

“Scarlett.” He looks at me like he’s having fun. “I don’t think you get it.” “I…maybe I don’t.” “You and I have an agreement, don’t we? And the agreement says that until you say stop, I can do what I want with you. Even if it breaks you into pieces. Even if it makes you cry.” I nod. “I love that you opened up to me,” he says, pressing his mouth into the side of my head. I feel his inhale, and something sweet and thick drips inside me, warms me in my very core. “But they’re sides of the same coin. I get to take you apart and split you open—but if anything else, anyone else makes you feel sad, upset, cracked, I also get to be the one who puts you back together. Until you say stop. You get it?”

“I fuck you—” He pushes deeper. “Because—” Deeper. “It’s all I want to do—” Deeper. “From the moment I wake up.” He hits a spot, and…I hope he’s halfway inside, I really do, because I’m already coming, clutching around the too-big, hard width of him, flutters I cannot help. It’s so intense and shuddering and good, I’m lost to everything but my pleasure, and I almost don’t hear the rest of what Lukas whispers in my ear. “I fuck you because you’re the most perfect thing I’ve ever felt, Scarlett.”

“You’re fucking adorable, Scarlett.” He tilts my chin up. Another kiss, this time on the tip of my nose. “It makes me want to wreck you.”

“What are you scared of, Scarlett?” His eyes look…sad, maybe. I’m not sure. Traces of emotions crease the corners. “Everything.” A deep sigh. “When it comes to what matters, you’re fearless. Try to remember that, okay?”

“You know,” he says against my lips, “I wanted to be righteously angry at you. I told myself I wouldn’t be with you until you were ready to be honest.” I don’t ask about what. It would be supremely dishonest. “But I’m just so fucking happy to see you, Scarlett. I can’t be mad at you, when every time I think about you I am reminded that you exist.”

“Slow down,” he asks, instead of making me. “Just a little. Or I’m going to come, and it’s going to be over, and I don’t want that.”

“But I wasn’t truthful. Sam said—I should have been honest. I wasn’t, and now she’s unhappy. I did this to her—and to you—” “To me?” He smiles, amused. “What have you done to me? You made me happier than I’ve ever been, Scarlett, that’s all.”

“Pen is not heartbroken. She’s not in love. This is just possessiveness. She’s lashing out because she lost two of her favorite toys, and she wants someone else to hurt as bad as she does. And I—I’ve been trying to tell you how I felt for months. And I know it’s hard to hear, I know this stuff doesn’t come easy to you, but it’s out there now. You don’t have to be terrified of it anymore. I love you. I’m in love with you. And you’re in love with me. We can say it.”

“This is it, for me.” He presses a kiss against my cheek. “Remember back in the fall? When I was being a total asshole, trying to prove to myself that I could exist without you? I can’t, Scarlett. I can’t be without you. And for the first time in my life, I don’t care. I think of you all the time, and I want to make plans with you, I want to talk about the future, and I’m fucking happy about it—” “Stop.” It’s the word—our word. The one I never used. And Lukas recognizes it, because he immediately straightens. After a beat, he even manages to let go of me.

“You know it, don’t you?” he asks. “What?” “From the very start, you had all the power. From the very start, I was in the palm of your hand.” I did, I think. I definitely do now. “Yes.” He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “As long as you are aware, Scarlett.”

“Your father’s home?” “Yes. He’s very excited about you coming, by the way.” “Oh, god. You told him?” “Of course.” I cover my face. Pray for the car seat upholstery to wrap around me like a boa constrictor and release me from this ignominy. “He’s very happy. I told him you’re smart and you like nature. He’s glad you’re Lukas’s first girlfriend.” “I am not his girlfriend, and he dated Pen for seven years.” Jan shrugs. “Dad never met her, so he thinks Lukas made her up.”

“Scarlett. Lycka till!” Good luck. “Thanks,” I reply, too weakly for the sound to carry. “I’ll need it.” “No, you won’t,” Lukas says, clearly amused. “What did I tell you?” “Many things.” For reasons that probably only Sam could list, I’m already crying. A couple of fat, lonely tears. “Which one are you referring to?” He shakes his head. His fingers come up to dry my cheeks, and my heart swells so much and so fast, I feel as though I could take flight. “In the palm of your hand, Scarlett. From the very start.”

“How did you know I was coming? Did Pen tell you?” “You never stopped sharing your location with me.” “I know that. But still, you’d have to have checked where I was to…” Oh. “I can’t sleep unless I know where you are.” His shrug is delighted. Unapologetic. “And during the day…I just feel better keeping tabs. Control, you know?” He leans in and presses a single, soft kiss to my hair, murmuring, “I’d say sorry, but you should probably just get used to the way I am.”

“I assume you want us to be together?” I nod again. “That’s going to require some discussions. I have to make plans for my future. You have to make plans for yours. Let’s do that together, okay?” It all sounds so simple coming from his mouth. The alphabet. The most basic of arithmetic. Us, being in love.

“I just…I can’t ask you to make life decisions based on me.” “That’s okay, because no asking is involved. Scarlett, this is it for me. I’m in.”

“But what if we start dating and we don’t work out?” He seems to find the question hilarious. “We’ve been dating for nearly a year in everything but name. We work together, in every possible way. Except the chaos you live in, but I can probably train that out of you. Punishments. Positive reinforcement.” He pushes my hair back. “You respond well to that kind of stuff.”

“Scarlett,” he interrupts, a little less restrained. “Listen to me. The last few years, I did everything I could to be happy with someone else, and did not manage.” His hand slides down my arm, slowly. Long fingers twine with mine. “And then I spent the last few months trying not to fall for you, and failed so fucking miserably tha...

“Did you lie to me?” “By omission.” “What did you not tell me?” “How early I fell for you. How soon I rea...

“What I mean is, I don’t think I’d be able to ever live apart. And I’m…greedy. I wouldn’t be able to be with other people, or handle an open relationship, or take breaks—” “That’s good. Because I know you think that I’m not capable of jealousy, and maybe I thought that, too. But if you were to ask me for any of those things…it would gut me, Scarlett. It would absolutely end me. And if it were nonnegotiable, if it were a condition to be with you, I’m still not sure I’d be able to say no.”

“I love you. So, so much. All the things you talked about in Amsterdam, on the balcony…I want them, too. With you. For the next million years.” “Million? Hyperbole?” “Not this time.”

“Just sleep. I will be here when you wake up.” “But…what are we going to do with all that time together?” “I was hoping we’d sleep in. Then go at it like animals. Then maybe a quick break at the pool? Then back home, more animal stuff.” “Oh my god, Lukas. What are we—a couple?” “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” A minute later she’s asleep. The entire universe is here, in his arms.