Dante went in first, of course. He didn't jump; he let the water take him, slipping beneath the surface like he belonged to the tide. I followed, my heart drumming a rhythm against my ribs that felt far too loud for the vastness of the ocean.
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They had been driving for three hours when Ari pulled the truck onto a gravel lookout. Below them, the lake wasn't a lake at all, but a sprawl of silver mirrors—flooded fields left behind by a careless spring. Dante went in first, of course
Ari begins to use writing and poetry to chart his internal landscape, moving from a boy who fights the world to a young man who articulates his place in it. If you want to explore more about the
“The world is full of water. And we’re all just learning how to dive.”