Read Online Underwater by Brooke Moss - Free Book Online

Apparently, I needed to have someone in my family nearby to wipe my chin at all times.
    “I’m still weighing my options,” Saxon announced.
    My father made a hmm sound under his breath. “What will your major be?”
    Saxon seemed to ponder this for a moment. “I’m not sure, exactly.”
    My father’s eyebrows knit together. “Well, what are your interests?”
    Saxon leaned forward in his seat. “History.” I could tell that my dad accepted this answer, as the muscles in his forehead relaxed the tiniest bit. But Saxon wasn’t done. “Mathematics. Literature. Oh, science. I like science too. And music. I love music. And art.”
    My father glanced at me with a strange look, as if to say, What the hell is up with your friend?
    I ignored him and closed the vanity mirror with a snap. “Saxon likes to swim.”
    “Oh yeah? Are you on the swim team?” My father squinted his eyes to see through the sheets of rain.
    Saxon cleared his throat. “No, sir. I do most of my swimming in the lake.”
    My father’s eyes flashed to the rearview mirror. “The lake? That’s pretty dangerous.”
    “I’m a strong swimmer.” Saxon’s voice dropped low.
    I turned my upper body to the side so I could look back at him. “Did you hear that someone drowned in Garfield Bay last week?”
    Saxon’s eyes narrowed. “Yes. I heard that.”
    “Yeah, I guess some guy was hiking near the water and fell in.” I looked at my dad. “Isn’t that what you read in the paper?”
    He nodded. “He lost his footing and the ground was wet. The dirt collapsed underneath him, and he rolled into the lake.”
    I turned back to Saxon. “Apparently he clawed at the dirt as he fell and pulled a bunch of plants out of the ground. They found the body two days later. Totally creepy.”
    Saxon’s blue eyes looked translucent in the dim light from the dashboard. “Yes, it is.”
    “Who are your parents?” My father asked out of nowhere. Saxon just looked at him. “If they live on Moon’s Bay, I’ve probably met them. What are their names?”
    Saxon’s gaze slowly went back to the window. “We’re new to town. You probably haven’t met them yet.”
    I watched as my dad processed this in his annoyingly tempered way. Why wouldn’t Saxon answer the question? And why did my dad want to know his parents’ names anyhow? What, would he run a background check later or something? I was torn between being annoyed by my father’s curiosity and by Saxon’s evasiveness. Or maybe it was just because I always seemed to need something to be annoyed by.
    We made another turn and started the curvy descent down to the small clump of houses that encircled Moon’s Bay. The trees were too thick and the sky was too black to see any of the houses, but there were lights burning in the distance that indicated where each of the homes stood. My eyes instantly found our old white farmhouse in the distance, and the memory of Saxon tromping across our land made my stomach twist.
    “Which one?” My dad asked as we rolled past the first few driveways. Saxon didn’t answer, so I looked over my shoulder at him just in time to see him rubbing his forehead.
    “You all right?” I asked.
    Maybe my father made him more nervous than I thought. He did have a sort of quiet-slash-judgmental thing going on.
    His eyes didn’t move from the rain-soaked trees outside his window. “I’m fine.”
    “Saxon?” My dad pushed on the brakes and his car slowed considerably. “Which house?”
    Clearing his throat, Saxon pointed ahead. “It’s, uh, just up here.”
    We rolled past our own driveway, past the Rogersons, and past the next three driveways. Finally, the road came to a dead end where a wall of dripping pine trees sat. There was a dirt driveway to the left, but it was blocked by an old iron gate that had been padlocked shut with a thick, rusty chain. I remembered riding my bike down to the dead end with Evey when we were little and straining to peek through the gate to the