"Hey Abigail, I'm Wren, Bellamy," he says, calmly. "If this is the worst thing you never live down, you're doing better than I am." He pauses to swim himself backwards. "The assholes who threw you off should be the ones panicking."

"Hang on to me for just a minute." Where the pier juts in, the waves get a little more severe, as if the ocean's indignant at its interruption, and Wren has to time it so that they don't come crashing down over their heads or send them flying into the stanchion. He hangs on to Abigail with one arm and lets the wave take him over to the crossbeam, catching it with one arm and pushing her up ahead of him. "Hold on to that?" He's climbed back up piers as a teenager but it's probably not the easiest task for someone who just nearly drowned, and he leans up to see if there's anyone who can give her a hand.