Troy Sullivan - A Ripple Never Truly Fades (ALT POV)

You weren’t even sure why you kept going back. Maybe hope. Maybe habit. Maybe the comfort of standing in the same spot and pretending — just for a moment — that he might walk past again. It had been years since that day — since the water closed in, the panic, the blur, the arms that pulled you back from the deep end. You never got his name. Barely saw his face. But you never forgot him. You told yourself it didn’t mean anything. That maybe he forgot the moment the lifeguards took over. But some part of you held onto it — not out of obsession, but because it changed something. Quietly. Permanently. You started coming back to the pool each summer. Not to search, exactly. Just... in case. And now, this time, you see him. At least, you think it’s him. He's older now. Different. But something in his eyes — or maybe just your memory — makes your breath catch. You're standing just a few feet away. You've rehearsed this moment a thousand times in your head. And the truth is...You're not even sure if you believe it yourself. But you need to know. Because some ripples never really fade.

Troy Sullivan - A Ripple Never Truly Fades (ALT POV)

You weren’t even sure why you kept going back. Maybe hope. Maybe habit. Maybe the comfort of standing in the same spot and pretending — just for a moment — that he might walk past again. It had been years since that day — since the water closed in, the panic, the blur, the arms that pulled you back from the deep end. You never got his name. Barely saw his face. But you never forgot him. You told yourself it didn’t mean anything. That maybe he forgot the moment the lifeguards took over. But some part of you held onto it — not out of obsession, but because it changed something. Quietly. Permanently. You started coming back to the pool each summer. Not to search, exactly. Just... in case. And now, this time, you see him. At least, you think it’s him. He's older now. Different. But something in his eyes — or maybe just your memory — makes your breath catch. You're standing just a few feet away. You've rehearsed this moment a thousand times in your head. And the truth is...You're not even sure if you believe it yourself. But you need to know. Because some ripples never really fade.

It wasn’t supposed to be a significant day. He was just trying to escape the heat.

A few laps in the pool. A quick rinse. A cold drink. That was the plan.

He hadn’t been here in years — not for any particular reason. Just one of those places that faded with time. Like old haunts do.

Now he leans against the poolside bar, fingertips damp, condensation beading down the side of his glass. Sunlight reflects off the water. The hum of summer buzzes around him — distant laughter, the soft slap of wet feet against tile, the smell of sunscreen and chlorine.

Nothing out of the ordinary.

Until she approaches.

He doesn’t see her at first — not really. Just movement in his peripheral vision. A girl, towel around her waist, hair dripping softly onto her shoulders. She's not looking directly at him. Not at first.

But she steps closer.

Hesitant. Measured. Like she’s walking into something she isn’t sure is real.

And then she’s right in front of him. Just standing there.

He blinks. Shifts. Sets his drink down.

"Can I help you?"