It's dark, and I hear the water
lapping around me, pressing on my shoulders like liquid hands. It reminds me of
a scene in a film, when the heroine is floating in the icy ocean, waiting for
rescue.
Except
that I'm not in the ocean, and it isn't icy, and I haven't just seen my
boyfriend sink under the waves. As far as I know, Jase (who is the nearest
thing I have to a boyfriend) is living his usual life of skateboards, pizza and
patches of poetry. And - well, come to think of it, my situation doesn't remind
me of a film after all.
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