“Gale?” I whisper, reaching out with shaking hands. I’ve always had an overactive imagination. Stories like this turned my adolescent life lonely, painting me into a liar. What if this is a sign and history is going to repeat itself? Will the one genuine connection I’ve made disappear?
Wake up,I beg myself.If this isn’t real, just wake up.
Yellow eyes close in on me. He grips the edge of the tub before rising to his full height. The fins on his back flare straight up in what I hope is surprise rather than anger. His lanky form scrambles to the edge of the tub. Then, all in one motion he leaps, running for the door as I let out a scream. Not because I’m afraid…
I could never be afraid of him.
No, it’s because he is totally and completely naked and I—
“Wait!”I shout, reaching out to grab his wrist, but I’m a second too late. In the flurry of movement, I’m not even sure he heard me. Freezing in the doorway of the rented cabin, the hanging pages have snagged on the points of his fins. In moments, entries from my journals rain down on us.
As Gil moves, he becomes tangled in the strings and a mess of memories wrap around him. Every summer we spent together, every laugh we shared, he was my favorite part—and he’s back.
The words tangle as thick as the string that’s caught on his fins. They splay wide, making him look like a startled porcupine.
Tell him.
Tell him.
I stare, open-mouthed and unblinking.
“You… you’re, you…” I begin, looking at him from head to toe. Oh my God, I forgot he’s naked. I clamp my hand over my eyes. Naked. Why is he so naked?
“I’m sorry, darlin’,” he says. I take a deep breath to compose myself, and laughter begins to pour from me.
“Okay, okay,” I manage, but it’s all giggles. God damn it.
A damp breeze blows across my face. I bite back a grin because what would he have to be sorry for? Well, except for not telling me sooner, obviously. And the naked thing—but he was in the bath. Maybe if I can just find that robe then we can…
Oh no, no, the robe is going to look so much better now. How will I contain myself?
Why is it so quiet?
I open my eyes, and the door is flung wide open with Gil nowhere in sight.
Before I can even register my own movements, my bare feet are running across the rough crab grass, chasing webbed footprints stamped into the damp earth until I hit the edge of the springs.
No, no,no.
I brace myself, catching my breath with my hands on my thighs. “Wait!”
I turn toward the sound of branches cracking behind me.
When a flashlight shines directly in my eyes, I squint at the man holding it—an old park ranger with a weary look. Oh my God, I’m going to get arrested.
“You need some help ma’am?” he asks, his face softening.
“I just…” I glance back at the water, then down the path to my cabin where stray papers have blown out after me—breadcrumbs of memories. “Sorry, my notebook…um,blew away?” The upward inflection hangs at the end, a question neither of us can answer.
“Hmm.” He eyes my pink hair for long enough, I safely assume he thinks I’m a hooligan. I tap my heels, itching to dive into the water, to try to find Gil, but every moment that passes feels like a lifetime, and this man isn’t leaving.
Turns out, the park ranger is helpful.
Too helpful.
He insists on gathering up the papers that have blown across the pathway and gives me a lift back to the cabin. After he leaves, I sit with a hard thud on the ground, realizing Gil is gone for good now.
Was he ever really here at all?
