Stop Using My Fear as Your Game

I'm learning to swim when my childhood friend, Vivian Thorne, fakes a cramp. My boyfriend, Oliver Wilde, suddenly lets go of my hand and swims toward her. I'm left alone in the two-yard-deep pool, completely stunned. After Oliver carries Vivian ashore, he smiles as he watches me thrash around. "Vivian says you rely on me too much and need a push to learn, so just swim over here yourself." I choke on water and sink. At the sight of my struggle, Vivian laughs so hard she slaps her thigh. Oliver says something to her, then drapes a towel over her shoulders in resignation. Even though I can't hear what he says, I bet it must be, "Now that you've had your laugh, don't tease her the next time. Aria is already pitiful enough with her fear of water." It's true that I was born with a fear of water. I've known them for seven years. All this time, Oliver and Vivian have been tormenting me under the guise of helping me overcome my fear of water. In college, at the beach, Vivian deliberately pushes me off the speedboat. Oliver jumps in to shield her and watches me swallow a bellyful of seawater in the waves. On the graduation rafting trip, Vivian suddenly capsizes the kayak. Oliver swims over to pull her up and watches me slam into a rock, my leg bleeding nonstop. Last year at the water park, Vivian shoves me down the waterslide. Oliver slides down to catch her and leaves me in the pool, nearly suffocating with fear. Every time, my fear and despair are met with a burst of laughter from Vivian. Meanwhile, Oliver stands behind her, always saying the same thing. "No more next time." However, the next time always turns into Vivian's new way of having fun at my expense. Water floods into my mouth and nose, the suffocation shooting straight to the top of my skull. But suddenly, I realize that I can actually float on my own. I grab the safety rope and haul myself ashore. Two pairs of hands reach out to pull me up, but I push them away. "From now on, I don't need you two to help me build up my courage anymore." Chapter 1 My boyfriend, Oliver Wilde, paused for a moment. Then, he smiled and ruffled my hair. "Are you scared silly? What are you talking about?" My childhood friend, Vivian Thorne, winked at me playfully and said, "Yeah. I only meant well. I won't do it again." Seeing that I wasn't speaking, she pouted pitifully. Then, as if a good idea had just struck her, she said, "Tell you what—to be fair, I'll jump into the deep end too. That way you can see there's nothing to be scared of." Before she could finish, Oliver grabbed her arm. "You choked on water last time and ended up in the hospital," he said with a frown. "Don't push yourself. Aria won't hold it against you." I stood there, still dripping wet. When I sank to the bottom of the two-yard-deep pool earlier, he didn't even bat an eye. But now that Vivian said she wanted to jump in, he was frantic with worry. "Come on, let's go have a little soak at the spa area. Think of it as my way of making it up to you," Oliver said, gently tousling my hair in a soothing way. "You can't keep depending on me like this all the time, honey." I followed them in a daze, only realizing where we were when we arrived—a deep-water massage pool. The sign at the entrance read, "Couples only. Bubbles activate only when two people enter the pool together." Oliver glanced at the pool, then at me. After hesitating for a few seconds, he said, "Aria, you've just had a fright, so maybe you shouldn't get in the pool. I'll join Vivian for a quick soak. Her back has been bothering her, so she needs hydrotherapy." Vivian smiled and tilted her head onto his shoulder. "Thanks, Oliver." I watched them walk into the warm pool side by side, chatting and laughing. We had been together for seven years. So, I wasn't supposed to be scared when there was fun involved, but now it was okay to be afraid? "Oliver," I called out to him. He was looking down, helping Vivian tuck her hair back. When he heard me call him, he turned around. "Let's call off next week's engagement party." His hand froze mid-air. Then, his expression changed, and he instinctively started swimming toward me. "Aria, calm down. Just wait until I get out and we can talk." Instead of waiting for him, I simply took a cab back to my apartment complex. My mom, Helen Langford, was down by the flowerbeds, bragging to the neighbors about the engagement party arrangements for next week. "I've already booked the hotel for 28 tables, and Oliver's side has prepared betrothal gifts for Aria." The moment she saw me climbing out of the cab soaking wet, her expression darkened. Vivian had caught up at some point. She came right up and linked her arm through Mom's. "Mrs. Hart, Aria said I was bullying her. She even said she wanted to call off the engagement," she said, her voice sweet yet full of grievance. The next moment, Mom grabbed my arm in front of all the neighbors. "Who do you think you are to call it off? Don't you know what kind of trash you are? You've been passed around so much you're practically damaged goods." "Mom," I whimpered. "That's not true. I've always been chaste. Why have you been spreading rumors about me ever since I was a child?" "I spread rumors about you?" Mom raised her hand to slap me across the face. Oliver's car pulled up at the curb. He ran over and stepped in front of me. "Mrs. Hart, please calm down. Aria's just had a fright." That only made Mom angrier. "With that pathetic attitude of yours, what are you without Oliver? You're just like your father—utterly useless the moment there's water involved!" She shoved me back into the apartment, and the door slammed shut behind me. I crouched down on the floor. Flashes of memory from when I was five years old raced through my mind. At the neighborhood's landscape lake, my father, Arthur Hart, slowly sank before my eyes. I stood on the shore, crying until my voice was raw and broken. After that, Mom went crazy, forcing me to learn how to swim. If I couldn't do it, she'd shove my head into a bathtub filled with water. Even at twenty-five, I could still remember exactly how it felt when water rushed up my nose at the age of five. Mom said, "Your father drowned because he was afraid of water. If you're afraid too, you'll end up just like him sooner or later." I wiped the water from my face, unable to tell if it was pool water or something else. Then, I picked up my phone and called my college roommate, Sage Summerfield. "Hey, you mentioned before that you still needed people for that volunteer teaching program on the island?" "Huh? Are you sure you want to go? It's a tiny island three hours by ferry from the mainland. The conditions there are really rough." "Yep, I'm sure." I glanced at the closed door. "I want to leave this place." Chapter 2 The next evening, the doorbell rang. Vivian and Oliver were standing at the door, holding takeout bags. They said they'd come to make amends. Mom welcomed them in warmly, a complete change from the way she'd torn into me the day before. They unpacked the containers. There was grilled steak, baked cheesy shrimp, and tiramisu—all Vivian's favorite food. They set down a plate of ceviche in front of me. The raw fish slices still glistened with moisture, the stench of it wafting up from the plate. I pushed the plate away on reflex. Back in sophomore year, Vivian took me to a Tovanese restaurant and deliberately ordered a spread of raw fish. The fish had been sliced open but was still flopping on the cutting board. When its blood splattered onto my face, I threw up on the spot until my stomach cramped. Vivian filmed the whole thing on her phone, laughing so hard that tears came out of her eyes. When Oliver found out, he just patted her on the head and called her cheeky. Ever since then, I'd get nauseous at the smell of raw fish. Vivian picked up a slice of raw fish and placed it on my plate. "Aria, didn't you want to overcome your fears? Why don't you start with the small things first?" she asked with a smile. I stared at the translucent slice of fish, bile rising against the back of my throat. Mom rapped the edge of my bowl with her fork. "Don't be so dramatic. Fish isn't water—it won't kill you." Fighting down the nausea, I picked it up with my fork and put it in my mouth. Even though my stomach was churning and the fishy taste surged up my throat, I swallowed it. All three of them looked at me with satisfaction, as if they were watching a pet that had finally learned to shake hands. Halfway through dinner, Oliver brought up the client proposal meeting at the company tomorrow. "Aria, since you get nervous in front of crowds, how about you let Vivian present your ocean-themed resort proposal instead?" I had spent two weeks rendering the design for that proposal and pulled all-nighters revising it four times. I knew every color scheme and every figure by heart. "I want to present it myself." The table went silent for two seconds. Oliver frowned. Mom let out a cold snort. "What could you possibly have to say for yourself up there?" Vivian tried to smooth things over. "I support Aria in giving it a try. If it doesn't work out, I'll just take over." She then smiled at me, but it was one that didn't reach her eyes. That night, I practiced my presentation in front of the mirror until 3:00 am. The next day, I went up on stage and opened the PowerPoint, only to find all the core design slides were completely blank. All that remained was a single line of text that read, "You can do it! Thinking on your feet is just another way to grow. Love, Vivian." Dozens of eyes were fixed on me. Oliver sat in the front row, shaking his head slightly. Then, he turned to Vivian with a look of exasperated affection. "You're just too mischievous!" Vivian stuck out her tongue playfully. The clients were checking their watches. My hands were shaking. But I had memorized all the figures, color codes, and sources of inspiration. I tossed aside the clicker and walked over to the whiteboard. Then, I picked up a marker and freehanded the main design. I spoke as I drew. My voice trembled, and I stumbled twice in the middle. But I made it through the end. When I finished, the room was silent for a few seconds. Then, the clients applauded. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Oliver's and Vivian's expressions had become very stiff. As I stepped off the stage, my phone buzzed with a text from Sage. "I've booked the ferry tickets. See you at the dock the day after tomorrow." The proposal was approved, and the company held a dinner to celebrate. After a few rounds of drinks, Vivian started telling "funny stories" about me. "Did you know Aria fell into the neighborhood fountain when she was little? The water barely came up to her knees, yet she cried for two hours." The whole table burst into laughter. Vivian nudged Oliver with her elbow. "Tell them about that time at the beach." He hesitated for a moment, glancing at me. Vivian tugged at his sleeve. In the end, he said, "Yeah, the waves were only this high. But Aria was so scared she clung to the lifeguard and wouldn't let go." Another round of laughter erupted. I dug my fingernails into my palms as I shot to my feet. "Can you please stop?" The whole table fell silent for a moment. A colleague leaned in and whispered to me, "You shouldn't go up against Vivian. She's best friends with the boss' girlfriend." Mid-sentence, she suddenly stared at me in shock, as if something had just dawned on her. "Wait, aren't you the boss's girlfriend? Then how come—" Her gaze darted back and forth between me and Vivian. "The boss and I are just colleagues," I said with a wry smile. I had fought so hard to get into this company because I wanted to be closer to Oliver. But when I ran into him in the elevator on my first day of work, he said, "You need to learn to stand on your own two feet. I don't want people thinking I'm giving you special treatment. " He even had my desk assigned to the farthest corner. In the second half of the dinner, someone suggested that we should go to a newly opened deep-sea themed escape room. The entire set was a shipwreck, the ocean floor, and an underwater escape. When it came time to split into groups, no one chose me. A colleague half-joked, "If we're in your group, we're afraid you'll faint and drag us all down." In the end, it was just me, Oliver, and Vivian left. Vivian wrapped her arms around Oliver's. "Oliver, let's pair up. It's pitch black in there—I'm scared." He glanced at me, conflicted, then stepped over to her side and gently patted my head. "Aria, you can't keep relying on me all the time. Try doing it on your own this time. Think of it as building some courage." After taking a deep breath, I pushed open the escape room door. Inside was all blue light and simulated sounds of water. There were jellyfish props hanging from the ceiling too. Halfway through, Vivian burst out from some hidden passage, shrieking. At the same time, a bucket of cold water was dumped over my head. I slipped on the wet floor, my knee slamming into a metal frame. All the lights came on. Everyone was standing at the end of the corridor, taking photos. Vivian was bent over laughing. "Oh, my god! The look on your face was priceless!" Oliver came running over. When he saw my darkened expression, he asked worriedly, "Are you mad? Vivian was just—" "Just having fun." I finished the sentence for him. Then, I brushed the water off my clothes and stood up. "I'm not mad." He smiled and ruffled my hair. "You're the best, Aria." The party broke up, and he went to see Vivian home. "It gets pretty dark around her place at night, so she's afraid to walk back by herself." I looked at him. "Why does Vivian get a pass on facing her fears?" Oliver's mouth opened, then closed. "Forget it. Just take her home." When I got back, Mom was munching on chips. She asked who had brought me home, and I said I took a cab. She looked disgusted. "Vivian knows how to act all cute and coy in front of Oliver—unlike you. No wonder you always come up short next to her." I turned to her and said, "You're right, Mom. Vivian is definitely a better match for Oliver than I am. And she'd make a much better daughter for you too." Chapter 3 Mom jumped up from the couch to hit me. I shut my bedroom door. She stood outside, cursing me out for over an hour. I put on my headphones and packed my things—sunscreen, motion sickness pills, and band-aids. The next afternoon, I went out to pick up the last few supplies. When I came back, I heard laughter coming from the living room as I stood in the hallway. "For this segment of the engagement party, how about we put in a few live little loaches in Aria's champagne glass? The moment she takes a sip, she'll see them swimming right by her mouth," Vivian said, then laughed. Oliver was silent for a long moment. "What's gotten into you now?" she asked, slightly annoyed. He sighed and finally replied, "Fine. But this really is the last time." Mom was laughing along beside them. "It's just a little prank to teach Aria a lesson. After all, she's been running her mouth too much lately." To them, my engagement party was just a set-up for a prank. I stood at the door without moving, listening for a long time. It wasn't until the laughter died down that I turned around and went downstairs, circling around the back entrance. That evening, Vivian suggested throwing Oliver a bachelor party. I said I didn't mind. At 2:00 am, I went to pick them up. They were both drunk. Outside the VIP room at the club, Vivian was draped over Oliver's shoulder. She was sobbing so hard that her makeup had become ruined. She said, "If you hadn't gone and confessed to Aria out of spite back then, we wouldn't have wasted all those years." Oliver covered his eyes with one hand. "I regret it too. I was drunk that day. When I saw her standing alone in the rain, I just felt so sorry for her. I shouldn't have spent seven years with her out of pity." I leaned against the doorframe. Seven years ago, I sat crouched at a bus stop in the pouring rain, crying my eyes out. Oliver had come running through the rain and held me, saying, "Aria, I've liked you for a long time." Back then, I felt like no water in the world could ever scare me again. As it turned out, his feelings in that moment were nothing more than drunken pity. I sent them both back to their own homes. The next morning, Oliver and Vivian went to the hotel to "decorate". Mom sent a voice message to the family group chat. "Aria's getting engaged today. She gets a little nervous in the spotlight, so please be patient with her." Before heading out, Oliver smiled and said, "Aria, there's no need to hurry. You can take all the time you need to get ready." I nodded. On the other end of his phone, Vivian was shrieking, "There aren't enough loaches! Go buy a few more live ones!" I didn't go to the hotel. Instead, I hauled my suitcase downstairs and met up with Sage. Then, we caught a cab to the dock. As we crossed the bridge over the bay, my phone signal faded bar by bar until it was gone. The last message that came through was a voice message from Vivian. "Get over here quick! We've got a surprise for you!" In the background, she was stifling a laugh. I turned off my phone. The ferry set off. The land behind us grew smaller and smaller. … Meanwhile, the doors to the hotel ballroom were pushed open. Vivian shrieked with glee and flung a glass full of muddy loach water toward the entrance. But the only person standing there was the hotel manager. "Ms. Hart instructed me to inform you all that she won't be coming. She wishes everyone a wonderful time." Oliver's smile froze on his face. The wine glass slipped from Mom's hand and crashed onto the table.