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The truth was I’d been out there for the better part of an hour panicking before he swam in, barking orders. I’d watched Jaws the night before with my father’s permission. It was the one time I regretted talking him into letting me get my way. I didn’t want to go anywhere near the water. No matter how many times I told myself it was just a movie, I heard the du-nuh every few seconds.
“Okay,” I said with false courage. “I’ve got it.”
He shook his head as if he knew I would choke. “All right, give it a go.”
“You sound like The Crocodile Hunter.”
“He is Australian.” He rolled his eyes. “And you sound ignorant. Now stop stalling.”
“Don’t be rude, crocky pants,” I piped.
Ian shrugged, pushing his dark hair off his forehead. “You’re scared.”
“I’m not scared of anything.”
“Well then go on, miss.”
“I’m six years old. I’m not a miss.”
“You sure don’t have tits enough to be called a miss.”
His eyes sparkled with his laugh.
“Pervert alert!” I yelled at the top of my lungs.
Ian cringed. “I was just joking.”
“My father says any time a boy says a word about privates in front of me to tell.”
“I’m not a pervert. And I’m too old to be babysitting you.”
Offended but too terrified to be alone in the water, I shrieked when the next wave got the best of me. I was too far out in the surf and I knew I was about to get in trouble for it.
“I’ll have tits one day,” I promised, unable to think of anything else to say. Ian rolled his eyes as he pulled me by my floaties closer to shore. Choking, I pushed my hair out of my face. “I know you aren’t a pervert.” I smiled the way my mother did when she wanted her way. “I was just joking too.”
Ian squinted at me as if he was trying to decide if I was being truthful.
“I want to be your friend. I’m sorry, Ian. Please don’t leave me out here.”
He grabbed hold of me then and pulled me to where I could safely stand.
“It’s okay, little puffer fish.” He lined my mask up for me. “All right. You can do this. I know you can. But,” he looked behind his shoulder and then back to me, “no one said you had to.”
“I asked for the mask and flippers for my birthday. I’m gonna be seven next week. I’m not afraid.” I was lying. And he knew it.
“Are you scared of what you’ll see under, then? Give them here.” He took the mask from me and peeked underwater before he pulled up and shook his head. “Nothing to see but a few fish.”
“Okay.” Taking the mask from him, I pulled it over my eyes and nose and he became harder to see when the lens fogged up.
“No big deal.” He knuckled the top of my head and I glared at him before I went under. Within seconds, a needle nose fish swam a centimeter from my mask and I began choking as I surfaced. “Holy shit!”
“Koti!” My mother shrieked from shore. She had the ears of a Doberman.
“Sorry, Mom, there was a fish!”
She stood in a bright red bikini and I saw Ian’s eyes float her way with interest. My mother had ‘tits’ in abundance and a whole lot of everything else. Curves from head to foot, I could see Ian deduce she was the ultimate miss. Even as a retired supermodel she commanded the eyes of everyone she sauntered past. “Young lady, I better not hear that language again.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I could feel the blood rush to my face. Ian shook his head and nudged his chin forward.
