This is not going well. Whether she's flailing because of Devin or because of the water, he neither knows nor really cares. Getting out of the canal will solve both problems, more or less, so Devin starts swimming. It's not far to the edge, but struggling with a flailing teenager means either slowing his maneuverability or getting smacked.

He opts for the latter, and soon he's got a grip on a low railing. Devin leverages them both up and out of the water, trying his best to keep Aly from hitting anything she might hurt herself on. If she complains about it later, so be it. Once they're far enough out of the canal, Devin can use both of his hands to lift Aly the rest of the way and deposits her gently on dry land.

"Hey, look at me," Devin orders firmly from where he's kneeling in front of her, hands on her shoulders. They are both sopping wet. "Does anything hurt?"