He lay there unmoving until light started to filter in through the windows. He was waiting. Waiting for what, he didn’t know, but there was most definitely a charge in the air that had him on high alert.
His phone sounded and he pulled it from his pocket. It was a message from Julie to Finn, simply quoting an In Like Lions song that had come up in one of their chats. Yup, she was still drunk. Probably stumbling around in search of water and aspirin before she crashed back asleep.
Matt got up and went downstairs. The kitchen floor was freezing and he regretted not having thrown on socks. A relentless chill swallowed the entire house today. It was wretched out: gray skies, frigid temperatures, and the threat of snow. So much for a spectacular start to the new year. He put the tea kettle on the stove and filled the French press with espresso grounds. The house was too quiet, even when the water boiled and the room filled with the kettle’s sharp whistle.
Matt stared at the steam. Lyrics swirled in his head.
I was broken… I am broken… Ride the wave be gone… Save me, come save me….
Oh, hell. Julie’s e-mail wasn’t drunken nonsense.
He lifted the kettle from the burner and slammed it down before turning off the heat. “Damn it, Julie! Damn it!”
Matt was upstairs and in Celeste’s room in a heartbeat. “Celeste, we have to go. Come on! Get dressed!”
A mass of curls stuck out from underneath the sheets. “Matty? I would prefer not to go anywhere right now as I am sleeping, and I suspect it is cold and despicable outside. I have a fondness for meteorology, and based on what I heard last night—”
“Get! Up!” Matt pulled down the sheets and tugged at Celeste’s flannel pajama top.
“Where is it that we must go at this early hour? What is of such an urgent nature?”
“It’s Julie. She’s doing something stupid and dangerous, and we have to get her. Let’s go!”
Celeste’s eyes opened wide. “Oh! We are off on an exciting rescue mission, is that correct?”
“Yes.” Matt reached into a laundry basket of clean clothes and tossed jeans and a heavy sweater at Celeste. “Here. Just put these on over what you’re wearing. We have to go now.”
“Matthew?” Celeste sat up and started pulling the jeans over her long underwear.
“What?” he asked, exasperated at how slow she was.
“Do you think that perhaps you too should put on some clothes?”
Matt looked down. She had a point. He might need to wear something besides only sweatpants. “Yeah, okay. Fine. Just hurry.”
Matt raced to his room, snatched some clothes from his dresser, and put on a T-shirt as he stumbled down the stairs, falling hard onto the landing. He slid his feet into socks and shoes, swearing too loudly. “Move it, Celeste!” he yelled. “And grab some warm clothes for Julie!”
Celeste followed him to the foyer, where he grabbed the car keys and Julie’s boots. “This is a remarkably exciting way to start the day, isn’t it?” she asked happily.
Matt yanked a wool hat over her head. “No. No, it is not.”
They rushed through the frozen snow to the car. Matt cursed the old Volvo that was taking forever to heat up enough to drive. He could feel Celeste’s eyes boring into him expectantly.
“What is it?” he snapped.
“Are we going to the airport and flying to California? I do not want to go on an airplane. Not at all. But I will if we are to partake in a heroic cross-country mission.”
“No, we’re not flying anywhere.” Matt turned on the wipers and cranked up the air, willing the windows to defrost enough so that he could see. “Julie is in Boston. I don’t think she ever left.”
“Why is she not with her father? Why did she not tell us? Where has she been staying?”
“I don’t know,” he whispered. “Something must have happened.”
“And what is this apparently stupid and dangerous activity in which she is engaging?” Celeste folded the clothes she had for Julie into a neat pile on her lap.
“She is doing the goddamn Polar Plunge.” He was so mad that he could hardly speak the words aloud.
“Is this a bear-related activity? That does indeed sound quite dangerous.”
“What? No, it’s not a bear-related activity.” He wiped the window with his glove and then backed the car out of the driveway. “She’s jumping into the Atlantic Ocean with a bunch of other insane people. It’s a New Year’s Day event. The water is freezing. “
“How do you know that she is doing this?”
“I just… do.”
“Because you know her?” Celeste asked softly.
Matt took a moment before he responded. “Yes. Because I know her.” And he knew that Julie wanted to do this Plunge because Finn had done it. Really, Matt and Finn had done it together. A matter of weeks before Finn died.
“I do not think that sounds like an enjoyable activity in the least, but I also feel strongly that Julie must have a solid reason for participating in this cold-water plunging festival.”
“It’s not a festival! And there is no good reason!” Matt looked at the clock. They might make it in time to stop her. Maybe. The ocean water could shut down her body. The current could pull her under. He knew the way the icy water felt as though it were burning your skin, and how the shock of the cold could energize you. It could also debilitate you. Matt and Finn had known how to handle the rush, plus they kept an eye on each other. Julie wouldn’t know what to do with the shock, and there was no one there to watch over her. Matt didn’t care that paramedics were present because in the wild crowd it would be easy to miss one girl vanishing into the dark ocean. “God, Julie, what the hell are you doing?” he yelled out.
Celeste calmly retied her scarf. “It is my opinion that you are having an unreasonably strong reaction to how Julie has chosen to celebrate this holiday.”
“I’ll react however I want to when someone does something so alarmingly outrageous.”
“Do you mean when a woman who you desire to engage with above a friendship level does something so alarmingly—”
“Celeste! Stop it,” Matt growled. He was not in the mood to wrangle Celeste’s dramatizations right now. He took a plastic baggie from his coat pocket and held it out. “Here, I have a muffin that I took to school the other day. You should eat something.”
“I do not want a muffin.”
“Yes, you do.” He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel.
“No, I do not want a muffin.”
Matt shook the bag wildly. “Just eat the muffin, okay?” he demanded. “You’re supposed to have breakfast!”
Celeste took the bag from his hand. “Goodness. If eating the muffin will help alleviate this display of emotionality, I will be happy to accommodate you and eat the muffin.” She paused. “I would be happier if you had not sat on it and if it were not undeniably compressed into a near pancake.”
“JUST EAT THE FREAKIN’ MUFFIN!” Matt flew through an intersection.
“It is my suspicion that by freakin’ you really mean fu—”
“How about we stop talking, okay?”
“Yes. Let’s. I will eat my subpar, unusually shaped muffin disc now.” She patted his shoulder. “And we will find Julie, and she will be perfectly fine.”
Matt took a deep breath. “I know.”
They drove silently to the beach in South Boston.
Matt took the first parking space he could find and slammed the car to a stop. “I’m sorry that I yelled at you, Celeste,” he said.
“I know. I do not mind much as the source of your outburst that elicited such an elevated reaction is near and dear to us both.” She opened her door and stepped out.
Matt shut off the ignition. He looked around the car, cursing himself for not having thought to bring towels, but he was relieved to see a blanket in the back. He grabbed it and opened his door, darting out to run through the parking lot and toward the beach. The sand slowed his pace, but he pushed ahead as fast as he could with Celeste trailing after him.