May 2085: crazy for you, part 3

Josh is 18, Sophia is 20.


The water was cold still. Very cold. But Josh took that as a refreshing and exhilarating challenge and dove straight in, parting the water ahead of him in smooth strokes. Nobody ever would have guessed that he was the baby of his family, or that he'd always been the runt of his grade. Always the youngest, the smallest, the quietest. Only now, finally an adult, everyone else around him had stopped growing and he was able to catch up. He wasn't the smallest anymore, he made sure of that.



But he didn't swim because he was angry, or wanted revenge on old bullies. He wasn't sad. He didn't hate anyone. He wasn't scared or running away from anything. He wasn't up to any trouble. He just liked to be free. He liked to go where he wanted when he wanted.


He liked to lay out on the grass and think, even if his thoughts weren't particularly deep or revolutionary. He worried that he needed to pick a major at the end of the semester. He worried about his sister and that slimeball Leo. He worried about Benny who was the nicest guy he knew. He worried about Natty—not that Natty needed worrying about. She seemed fine. But he worried about how he felt about her and what it meant. And what, if anything, there was to do about it.


Back on the beach, his phone would be ringing on top of a crumpled pile of clothes, probably his sister calling a few times, Benny once because his sister made him try when she couldn't get an answer, then some other girls Josh didn't want to call back. Not Natty though, she'd never called him before. Though she did have his number, she usually called Benny or Sophia first. Josh worried about what it meant that she never called, or what it meant that he wanted her to.


It was well past midnight by the time he swam back across the bay, stuffed his soggy underwear into his pants pocket and dressed, noted seventeen missed calls, and walked home. Sophia slept on the couch with the TV on mute.

"Go to bed, Soph," he told her.


"It's two in the morning," she said, rubbing her eyes. "Where were you?"

"I could have been out having sex."

"Ew," she said. "Sorry. Were you?"

"No." He laughed lightly, getting some jam out of the fridge for toast.

"Then what were you doing? Why didn't you answer your phone?" She opened her eyes wide at him. "Why is your hair wet!?"

"Swimming," he said.

"Swimming?"

"Sorry, I saw you called. Didn't have my phone in the water."

"Don't be a smart ass. Were you swimming for eight hours? What the hell?"

"I swam across the bay."

"Are you kidding me!?!" She started to freak out, waving her hands around. She looked like their mom when she did that. He thought going to college would get him out of having a "mom" to answer to. "You could have at least told me you were going marathon swimming," she said. "Mom would be pissed if she knew I let you swim out in the dark. It's cold! There could have been a storm! There could have been a boat! What if a boat ran you over or something?"


He took a big bite of toast, talking with his mouth full. "You didn't let me do it, I just did it. Go to bed. You look like a zombie."

She tried to sneer at him, but she was too tired.

He wasn't a baby anymore. He knew neither his parents or his sister thought he knew what to do with his life—and maybe he didn't just yet—but it was his life. If he wanted to swim, he was going to swim. "Soph, I'm gonna be nineteen this summer. You don't need to babysit me anymore, no matter what mom says."

"At least, just... Can you wear like, a reflector when you swim?"

He laughed. "No way."

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