Beads of sweat stick to her forehead. Panting, she fans herself with her duster jacket, which I assume is to help keep the sun off her arms.
We catch our breath for a moment. I should tell her. I should kiss her—I should.
“I demand a rematch,” she says, stretching her arms over her head.
“First one to the water at the edge of camp buys ice cream,” I declare, knowing full well I’m going to treat her regardless.
“Deal.”
I hop to my feet, offering her my hand which she readily takes. I lift her off the ground, and she bolts off without so much as a ready, set, go! “Hey!” I laugh, chasing after her.
I’ve got to admit, she’s fast.
Despite having the lead as Marina approaches the glittering springs, she slows, winded from our laughter. I strip off my t-shirt and race past her, plunging into the water. The water’s coolness wraps around me like a hug, and just in time too; I’ve got a feeling all the water I’ve been chugging is less than human behavior.
“Decided to let me win this time?” I tease, but Marina isn’t smiling anymore. She’s all but forgotten our past—has she forgotten how to swim too?
“You said race to the edge of the water,” she argues, a hand on her hip.
“Edge ofcamp,” I correct, splashing toward her ankles—she jumps backward, retreating further onto dry land.
Her face suddenly twists as she pulls down the length of her sleeves. I suppose she must not want to get her clothes wet. I raise my hands in a surrender.
Fabric coverings are sort of optional for Gillarians, but just like humans, many of the other inhabitants of my world have the same social conventions.
“Sorry, guess you probably don’t have your swimsuit on, hm?” I say, but Marina shrinks from my gaze, her fingers scratching at that spot she’s been fixating on at the back of her neck. It’s not a love-bite like I assumed at the diner. No, it seems to be some kind of irritation, one she quickly hides with her hair. She doesn’t answer; with how far away she looks, I’m not even sure she heard me.
“Marina?” I ask, as she pulls her duster tightly around her body, hiding in plain sight.
“I think maybe I could use some water … to drink, I mean,” she says quietly. “So yeah, yeah. Do you mind?”
“Considering I chugged our last bottle, I’ll row,” I offer. The two of us load back into the boat. The awkward silence is as sticky as the damp air, and I wish I could do something—anything—to make her comfortable.
The canoe cuts between mangroves that loom high above the water; their thick roots infringe upon our path, making it hard to navigate around a little horde of gators relaxing in the sun.
“Cute, hm?” I say, trying to break the tension between us. Marina perks up as she follows my gaze.
“So cute,” Marina croons, her smile suddenly wide and dreamy. She jots down something in her notebook.
“I’m… um, sorry about earlier.” Her voice is low. “I kind of shut down…”
“I didn’t mean to pressure you for a swim. The water might be nice today, but you’re nicer.”
She sighs, looking out at the springs with a frown. I wonder…
“Can you swim?” I ask. She swam like a fish when we were kids, but things change and so do people. I want to get to know the Marina that’s in front of me right now.
“No, no, I can, I was actually on the swim team in high school.” She opens her mouth for a moment, then closes it. “I wasn’t too weird?”
“You weren’t even close to weird,” I assure her. “Everyone shuts down once in a while, especially in this heat.”
She’s leaning in, so close I’m enveloped by the coconut scent of her hair. She’s blinking at me with what I assume is … confusion. I check to make sure my glamour is still in place.
“So, you’d … want to see each other again?”
“I was hoping we would.” I nod. By the goddesses, hersmile—why would she think a little thing like silence would mess things up? “Tonight?”
“Tonight.” She nods, but she’s moving toward me. The boat rocks as her lips draw closer to mine. “It’s a date.”
