Chapter 3 - The Shove
I shouldn't have let my guard down. That was the thought that echoed in my mind as the heavy silk of my bridesmaid dress dragged me down into the freezing blue water of the pool.
I was standing near the deep end, talking to an old family friend about local real estate, when I heard soft footsteps approach from behind.
"Tessa."
I turned, expecting a question about the seating chart.
Lena stood there. Her expression wasn't angry; it wore that terrifying, bright-eyed look she always got when she had already decided something was hilarious.
"Smile," she whispered.
My instincts screamed, but my body was too slow. Both of my sister’s hands slammed directly into my upper back.
The force was violent. My feet vanished off the stone edge. In mid-air, my brain screamed at me to brace, to throw my arms out, to protect my right side. But my right arm was useless luggage, dead weight locked by a torn labrum. I twisted frantically, throwing my left arm out as I hit the water.
Crack.
The impact felt less like water and more like hitting concrete at terminal velocity. A white-hot flash of agony tore through my right shoulder joint, so blinding and intense that for three terrifying seconds, I forgot how to breathe.
I broke the surface coughing, water burning my nose and throat.
"Oh my God! Tessa!"
Voices erupted around the terrace. Panic rippled through the gathered crowd.
"Give me your hand!" someone shouted, dropping to their knees at the pool's edge.
I tried to lift my right arm to reach them. Nothing happened. The limb hung at my side like a broken branch, limp and screaming with agony.
"My left!" I gasped, choking on chlorinated water. "Take my left!"
A male guest kicked off his dress shoes and leaped halfway into the shallow end while another hauled me upward by my left forearm. Together, they heaved me over the stone coping and onto the terrace.
I collapsed onto the wet tiles, shivering violently. My gorgeous sage-green bridesmaid dress clung to my skin like a second hide. My hair plastered across my face. With my left hand, I cradled my ruined, dangling right arm against my chest, tears of pure shock blurring my vision.
And then, cutting through the murmurs of horror and the splashing water, came Lena’s laughter.
It wasn't a nervous chuckle. It wasn't the sound of someone realizing a prank had gone horribly, disastrously wrong. It was high, bright, and completely unrepentant.
She was laughing at my dripping, shivering form.
"Oh my God, Tessa. Your face! You looked like a drowned rat!"
I stared up at her from the wet stone, my teeth chattering so hard I could barely speak. "I... I can't lift my arm, Lena."
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Her smile flickered for a fraction of a second, dying out in her eyes. But instead of dropping to her knees to check on me, she looked around defensively at the sea of shocked faces staring at her from the garden chairs.
"It was just a joke," she said defensively, crossing her arms. "Lighten up."
