Drowning with Others

by Linda Keir

right? Cassidy didn’t know what she wanted to study in college or be as an adult. All she wanted was to feel excited about something. Maybe she’d found

“And I’m interested in how journalistic techniques can be used in creative nonfiction,” she added, because it sounded like something they would like to hear.

She thought about a line from one of her favorite poems he’d written: Would you rather be drowning with others, or swimming alone?

Even the strongest marriages hid tiny cracks that, if widened, could cause the whole foundation to crumble.

She looked around to see if anyone was watching. The only thing wrong with Tate, really, was that her parents would love him because he was prep-school perfect and—moonlight dives aside—perfectly safe. But why should she hold that against him? She didn’t love him, but she liked him a lot. And it’s not like they had to know about him anytime soon. In fact, if there were things they weren’t telling her, she definitely didn’t have to share this development with them. Feeling a grin form

The only thing wrong with Tate, really, was that her parents would love him because he was prep-school perfect and—moonlight dives aside—perfectly safe.

We both know they’re worried that he’ll marry me, one of Glenlake’s glorious tokens of diversity. Good thing he didn’t fall for Crystal Thomas, who is (gasp) African American. I mean, how bad would it look at the country club that I’m not technically eligible to join, due to my dark curls, discernible curves, telltale nose, and otherwise obvious non-Episcopalian heritage? When his parents mention the place, which they somehow always manage to do (“Oh, this pasta salad is just like the one the club added to their menu”), I want to make the entirely bourgeois statement that my dad could buy the place outright.

With his business empire now comprising three locations and seventy employees, he was well on his way. He’d even allowed himself to look at a few property listings in Kansas City. There was just one problem: the two new stores were new buildings, and building costs had exceeded estimates, and he wasn’t profitable. He should have been—he would be—but this was a pinch year.

Simon nodded thoughtfully, dropped his napkin on his plate, and added one more term to their agreement, “just to prove we’re both serious men.” If Ian failed to make repayment within a year, Simon would take a 20 percent ownership stake in Grape and Barley Incorporated, cementing his role in Ian and Andi’s future indefinitely. Timing was everything, and Simon was a shrewd negotiator: After saying yes, how do you say no?

“Things like this don’t happen at Glenlake,” muttered her mother-in-law.

And you have to admit, he seems to be doing well for a guy who barely made it into his safety school.

Snotty comment. Priviledged smart rich kids.

“Cassidy, it’s important to be fearless, not careless.

We aren’t doomed to spend our lives being the people we were in high school.”