10.7

Fierce and unlikeable, she stood at the edge of the cliff and watched the children daring each other to jump. The water wasn't that far below, but they took their time, all the same. Her mouth was curled into a disapproving grimace. Children. One by one, they splashed into the water and kicked great gouts and yelled at each other in tiny voices. Ludicrous. What infantile, purile--but at this, her boyfriend, who had snuck up behind her, grabbed her in both arms and tackled her clean out into the open air.
When she hit the water, she was screaming. When she came up, she was still in the same protracted scream. He, however, was doubled over laughing, struggling to stay at the surface, gasping for air. She kicked off him to get back to the shore, where she dragged herself out and stood, shivering.
"Up yours, Maybrey."
"Love you, Poll."
She turned to find a towel, and lost composure for a fraction of a second. A smile leaked out before she could snap it back where it belonged.