Chlorine and Confessions

The pool glowed that artificial blue, the color of things that are trying too hard to be natural. Elena sat on the edge, legs dangling in water that felt like bathwater someone had forgotten to drain. She was forty-two, staring at a palm tree that looked plastic even though it wasn't, wondering when exactly she'd started measuring her life in supplement regimens.

"You're not eating the spinach," Marco said from the lounge chair. He'd been her friend since college, back when friendship meant sharing cigarettes and secrets, not comparing blood pressure readings.

"I'm not hungry."

"It's organic. Cost twelve dollars a bag."

"Everything costs too much lately," she said, which wasn't what she meant at all. What she meant was: I saw my doctor yesterday. What she meant was: He prescribed vitamin D supplements and asked if I'd been feeling hopeless. What she meant was: I think I'm sad all the time.

Marco dipped his hand into the pool, creating ripples that distorted his reflection. "Lisa's pregnant."

The words hit her like they'd been thrown. "That's—that's great."

"Three months. We weren't going to tell anyone yet."

"Why are you telling me?"

He looked at her then, really looked at her, in that way that made her feel seen in a way she both craved and feared. "Because you're my oldest friend. Because you're the only person who knew me before I became whatever I am now."

She slipped into the pool, clothes and all. The water swallowed her sounds. Underwater, everything was muffled and peaceful, the way life had been before mortgages and health insurance and the quiet desperation of adult friendships that existed mostly in text messages. When she surfaced, Marco was laughing.

"What?"

"You look like a drowned rat."

She treaded water, suddenly furious at him for being happy, for having normal problems, for sitting there eating expensive spinach while she dissolved from the inside out. But then she saw it in his face—that same fear, carefully hidden, the palm tree casting shadows that looked like cracks across his features.

"I'm scared too," he said quietly.

She floated on her back, staring at a sky that seemed too large for all the things they'd never said. The chlorinated water held her up, and for a moment, it was enough.