I'm grasping the rail with white knuckles and leaning over, scanning the dark sea frantically. The ship's crew are out on small boats searching the water and Jake's already dove in and swam back twice. I'm hysterical about the fact he's this drunk and yet swimming to find his friend in an almost pitch-black ocean. Watching the water with fear gripping my throat, holding my breath with every dive he takes and willing them to find him so Jake will get out of the water. I've never been so terrified in my life that I can barely move.
"He's here, Mr. Carrero." Yells one of the crew from the lifeboat; I spin to them, flashlights illuminating the hauling of a lifeless body into it under the moonlight.
Oh my god.
* * *
I'm sitting in my room and I'm tired and cold, I haven't slept. Last night
