by Jessica Park
“Sorry,” I say with a laugh. “So, can you talk during a surge?”
“What do you mean?”
“You didn’t say anything at first when you came back, surfaced. I was just wondering…”
“Talking isn’t always the easiest thing when surging, but seeing you fed into my sex drive so much that I was pretty much in a zone. Speaking, hearing…well, they weren’t really options.” Sam smiles. “Normally, I have a bit of function, but seeing you got me a little crazy. And just so you’re aware, you also have strong id drives of your own—for which I am immensely grateful.” His eyes look down over the front of my bikini. “I plan to make use of them when we get home.”
“I do indeed have a drive—for you and only you. I can’t get enough. You changed everything for me, Sam. You made sex beautiful. You made it about love. You let me be able to feel it and enjoy it. I’m learning about myself because you’ve given me a place to do that.”
There is so much care and truth in his face when he looks into my eyes. “My surge, the level I was at…it was about you. Costa was right that I needed to know you were okay before I died, and it made going under and surfacing smoother than ever. But I think that knowing I was coming back to you also influenced my surge in a way I haven’t felt before. I don’t know how else to explain it, but I believe the power was because of you. That surge had meaning.” Sam pulls me so close that the rest of the world fades away for a minute. “You’re doing something to me. I feel it all through my body. I love you, Stella, so much.”
There are kisses that arouse, there are kisses that deliver love, and then there are kisses that transcend both of those things. That’s how Sam kisses me—with his entire soul. He gives me all that he fights for and against, all that he fears, and all that he hopes. He kisses me with his past and his present and his future.
I am so in love with him.
“Hey! If you two do it on the beach, watch out for sand! Ew!”
Hollering from the water’s edge makes us separate, and I can’t help but giggle at Costa’s shrill squeal.
“Fuck off!” Sam yells back. But he’s got a smile plastered on his face.
Costa throws both hands on his hips and takes an outraged stance. “Language! Honestly, I’m appalled. There are families here!” He gestures around the cove that is empty, except for our crew. “As restitution, one of you needs to come clamming with me. Kelly ditched me.”
Sam groans, but I stand up and stretch. “I’ll go, or we’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Tell Costa he’s a dick.”
“Will do.”
The truth is that I like clamming. Stepping on the wet sand, waiting for squirts of water that tell me a clam is somewhere under there—it’s just so Maine. I feel very comfortable that this is now my home. I give Sam a quick kiss and head for the shoreline, and Costa cheers when he sees me coming.
He’s adorably free and unrestrained, but I’m struck with sadness.
God, he must have been a wonderful father.
I run faster to him. I reach out for the bucket. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Costa whips it behind his back. “Tell me what Sam’s power is.”
I laugh. “Nope.”
Costa has been trying to get Sam to reveal his new power, but Sam is determined to torture Costa for as long as possible.
He narrows his eyes. “You’re mean.”
“Well, Sam says to tell you that you’re a dick.”
He wiggles a finger. “Ah, I think Sam meant to say that he likes my di—”
“No!” I laugh and scramble for the bucket, but he’s too fast.
We stomp in the mud and clam until my toes are freezing. The Atlantic Ocean, even in July, is frigid, and I cannot believe there are brave people who actually swim in this.
“I’m getting cold.”
“You only got three clams, you big wuss.”
“CJ, I’m cold,” I whine.
“Stop calling me CJ! Let’s make a deal. If you get eight more, then it’ll be enough for me to cook dinner for you two. Death trippers are good cooks because we eat like we just came back from the dead.”
“Very funny. And it’s tempting…”
“And if I get eight more, then you tell me what Sam’s power is.”
“I am not agreeing to that.”
“How’s this instead? You tell me what Sam’s power is, or I’ll dunk you in the water.”
“I am also not agreeing to that.”
“But I am.”
He drops the bucket, and I immediately turn for dry land. Before I can take more than a few steps, Costa scoops me up and heads for the water.
I kick my legs, and I cannot stop laughing, but I seriously do not want to get dropped in this bitter ocean. “No, no, no! Please, Costa!”
Water is lapping at his knees when he stops. “So, you’ll give it up?”
“I think I gave it up the other night.”
“Ha! But that’s not what I meant.” He lightly tosses me in his arms, but he catches me just before I go in. “Tell, or you’ll get dunked.”
I give him a fake scowl. Then, I make a point of whispering, “Sam, forgive me, but I’m not going in this ocean. I love you, but I hate cold water more.”
Sam yells from his spot on the sand. “Stell, don’t you dare!”
“Sorry, too late,” I say softly.
Costa looks at me with curiosity. “No way.”
I continue whispering, “Besides, Costa would have found out somehow. He’s a sneaky bastard.”
Costa smiles. “Shut up. Hearing? He’s got super hearing?” He lowers his voice so that it’s barely audible. “Sammy? This can’t possibly be true, or you’d hear that I’ve got my hand on the hook of Stella’s bikini top, and it’ll only take one flick of my finger to pop it open. Also, your sister’s not really a lesbian. It’s all a front to hide the devastatingly erotic and disturbing things she lets me do to her.”
“You are so going to regret that!” Sam shouts, his voice echoing over us.
I giggle and cup my hand to Costa’s ear. “Oh, and Sam? Costa has massive penis envy and told me that he’s hugely jealous of how big your—”
Costa flings me into the waves, and I scream. The cold burns, but I’m still laughing when I surface. And I’m just in time to see Sam tackle Costa, sending the two of them careening into the water.
“THIS IS REALLY BECOMING A GODDAMN PROBLEM.” Poised on the end of the deck, Sam hurls a rock into the water. He’s not in a good mood. “Everything. I mean, I hear everything. It’s just getting worse.”
Costa reels in his fishing line and wiggles his feet as they hang over the edge of the dock. “Then, trip again. Simple. You’ll come back with something cooler.”
Sam spins around. “Really? That’s your answer? Screw you. I’m not tripping again. And neither are you. It’s too addictive, you know that.”
“Then, live with it.” Calmly, Costa casts another line. He’s not going to catch anything from the dock at the house, but he seems to like fishing from here anyway.
I stretch out on my towel and pull my sunglasses down. “There must be some way to deal with this besides another suicide run.”
“It’s not suicide,” Costa growls. “You of all people should have an appreciation for the beauty of death tripping, Surge Girl.”
He does have a point. But Sam has progressively become more miserable. His hearing power seems to be increasing, and it’s a special kind of torture at work. He’s plagued by every conversation throughout the inn, which is beyond intrusive.
“I’m going to go crazy.” Sam throws another rock. He likes being here on the dock because the water brings a degree of white noise that helps stifle other sounds.
“You’re still only hearing people’s voices though?” I ask. “No other sounds?”
“Thank God, no. If I had to tolerate every single sound within my earshot, then I’d certainly be flinging myself in front of the closest oncoming truck.”
Costa sighs. “Man, that sounds fun.”
Sam flings a small rock at Costa, and he winces.
“Well, that wasn’t very kind.”
“Neither was killing me.”
“Okay, fine. I’ll let you two in on a little secret, one that is right in front of you, but you’re both too lovesick to see it.” He sets down his fishing pole, takes off his T-shirt, and lies back to take in the sun.
Sam crosses his arms. “What? You have some brilliant fucking idea to make this shit stop?”
I hate seeing him like this—so angry and restless.
“I do actually.” Costa lowers his sunglasses as though he’s not being stupidly calm in the face of Sam’s agitation. “Maybe I’ll make you guess what it is.”
Immediately, Sam moves to sit on Costa’s chest and clamps his hands around Costa’s throat so that he’s all but cutting off air. “You’re a fucking douche bag, you know that? Tell me.”
“Sam, stop!” I scramble toward them.
No matter how hard I try, I can’t pull Sam’s hands away, and Costa is definitely having trouble breathing.
“Stop! You don’t want to do this,” I say.
Sam tightens his grip.
Even while losing air, Costa smiles. “Do it, Sam,” he gets out. “Come on, kill me.”
“You do not want to do this, Sam,” I plead. “This is not who you are. Don’t let him get to you. He’s just screwing around.”
“Kill me, baby,” Costa begs. “Send me under…”
For a moment, I’m distracted. It’s a draw to watch and to be in the presence of Costa’s pleasure in his own pain. Or what maybe isn’t pain. Maybe it’s all pleasure. He turns his eyes to me, and all I see is the hypnotic look from his rush because he’s dying. Right in front of me, he’s dying.
“Sam!” I scream, shoving him hard. “Enough!”
Finally, he drops his hands and sits back on Costa’s chest, keeping him pinned to the dock.
Still smiling, Costa coughs and gasps. “Damn it. So…close,” he sputters. “Almost there.”
Sam is panting, and he puts his arm over his face as he calms down. “Sorry. Sorry.”
Gently, I guide him a few feet away from Costa, and we sit. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Really, I’m sorry. I’m being an asshole.”
Costa rolls over onto his side. “He needs a fix. That’s why he’s doing this.”
“Shut up, Costa. He’s not tripping. This hearing thing is the problem,” I spit out.
“Look at him, Stella. He got all fired up just from nearly killing me. You feel a little better now, Sammy?”
“Fuck off,” Sam says coolly.
I can see though that Costa’s right. Sam is already more peaceful than he’s been in days.
“Okay, I’ll tell you what I think.” Costa props his head on his elbow. “Your powers and your surges now? Stronger than ever. That’s because of Stella. She’s making everything about tripping bigger and better.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“You’re Sam’s…power augmenter,” he says.
“What the fuck is a power augmenter?” I look to Sam.
He shrugs, but something seems to be dawning on him.
“I’ve been watching you. It’s so easy to see.” Costa’s voice is seductive now, smooth and enticing. He really does enjoy watching us. “You two are magnets for each other. Anybody can see that. The power with the light, Sam? Did you ever try using that when Stella wasn’t with you?”
Sam shakes his head.
“I saw you that night on the dock. What you did was amazing. And I don’t think you could have done that without her. And this hearing thing? Stella, do you remember what you said before Sam went under?”
I freeze. “Oh my God…”
“That’s right,” Costa says. “You said, ‘I hear you, Sam.’”
“No way.” Sam appears to be in as much disbelief as I am.
Costa sits up and rubs his throat. “And now, you hear.”
“The storm…” Sam starts. “It was a near hurricane.”
“What?” I ask. “The night Costa first showed up?”
Sam says, “I could only make it rain in small patches before.”
“No,” I tell him. “There’s no way. You didn’t make that storm.”
He turns to me, and it takes him a bit to respond. “I didn’t make it. We made it.”
I flash back to that night—to Sam and me in bed with the lightning, the thunder, the way the storm grew as our connection did the same. “And the sun shower. Outside the inn.” I pointedly look at him. “Sam, the lights you could make. ‘In a dark, dark world, you give me such light.’”
“See? You’re his power augmenter.” There’s too much delight in Costa’s words and not nearly enough intimidation over this realization. “I made up that term, by the way. Power augmenter. It has a certain ring to it, doesn’t it?” He literally blows on his knuckles, and I want to scream at him for being so cavalier. “Your surge the other night? How you stayed under longer than you should have? That was Stella.”
“I don’t understand.” I’m in shock. But what Costa’s saying feels right. It makes sense in this nonsensical world. “How?”
Costa stands up, fully recovered—maybe even energized from his near-death choking. “The point is that Stella might be able to help you tone down the noise you’re hearing. She can get you to focus it.”
“I’m desperate,” Sam says. “So, let’s go with your theory. I don’t like it one bit because I don’t want her sucked more into our shit than she already is, but…this has to stop.”
“If I can help somehow, then I want to,” I say.
“Sam, you can only hear voices within a certain radius, right? That cliff up there. Out of range, right?” Costa asks as he hops into the rowboat tied to the dock. “I’m gonna row myself out there just like a distinguished sea captain. When I’m far enough that Stella can’t hear me talking but you still can, you’re going to try to block me out.”
“What do you mean?” Sam asks.
“Cut me off. Stop my yammering. With Stella here, I’m betting she can help you focus your power, so you can be stronger and have more control over it.” He throws on a life vest. “I know. A life vest. Ironic, huh?”
As he rows out over the small waves, I have to admit that it’s not a bad idea. If I can somehow influence Sam’s hearing ability and he can turn off the incessant noise of people’s voices, it will be worth admitting again that Costa is right.
“This is crazy,” Sam says.
“I know. But we both know he’s right, don’t we? There’s something here, something between us, that connects with death tripping. Costa might be difficult and half insane some of the time, but he sees a strength between us that we haven’t.”
“Okay.”
“You’re shivering, Stella. It’s eighty-five degrees out.” He looks worried.
“I’m fine. Let’s just do this.” I don’t tell him that I find Costa’s power-augmenter idea daunting.
He knows anyway. “I’m so sorry about—”
“Stop. Don’t apologize. We don’t need to do that with each other. Death tripping is here to stay, so let’s get a handle on it.”
He nods and takes my hand.
It’s a relief when Costa’s screaming version of Poison’s “Talk Dirty to Me” vanishes for me, but based on Sam’s wincing, I can tell he still hears Costa. I wave a hand to signal that the boat is far enough out, and Costa stays where he is.
Sam frowns. “He’s intentionally singing radically off tune. And…oh God, now, he’s ad-libbing weirdly and stuff. We have to stop this.”
“Good. You’re motivated!” I squeeze his hand.
“Yep. He’s moved on to ‘Unskinny Bop.’ Let’s make this work.”
“So, now…I don’t know. There isn’t exactly a rulebook here, but I’m going to focus on you, and you focus on blocking out Costa’s wretched singing.”
I
close my eyes while the ocean air breezes over me, through me, and I concentrate on Sam and my love for him. I think about the first time I met Sam in the stairwell of the hospital—his touch on my skin, the sweetness he brought to such a horrible day, the impulsive way that I ran through the sleet to be in his arms.
I get dizzy and take a step back.
I see Sam angry on the deck the day I moved in, feel the strength of his arm when he caught me before I fell. Then, I remember the night he first cooked dinner for me, how he started to let me in. I feel the hard shift when every wall between us dissipated and how we fell in love with so much work and fear but also with such ease and trust. There are no conditions and no limits on my love for this boy who stands next to me.
His voice takes me from my thoughts. “It’s so peaceful when he shuts the fuck up, isn’t it?”
I smile. “You did it? You blocked him out?”
He nods. “I did. Shit, I really did it. You are making me stronger, Stella.”
I throw my arms around him and tightly hug him. Everything about him impresses me—not just his powers and how he’s gaining skill, but also how he handles so much in his life and the way he loves and lets me love him.
Besides all the syrupy feelings, I think definitively that I’m going to fuck his brains out tonight. Then, we’re going to order pizza and eat in bed and get crumbs all over the place and have an awesome time.
Slowly, Sam turns to me, his face stunned. “Oh my God.”
Confused, I ask, “What’s wrong?”
He looks incredibly unhappy as he asks a very simple question, “So, what kind of pizza are we getting?”
I shake my head. “No. That’s not possible.”
“It seems that anything is possible.”
“You heard me? I mean, you heard my thoughts?”
“Apparently, you power-augment hard. You amplified my hearing so much that I can hear you in every way.” He pulls his hand from mine and turns away. “This is too much. It’s too weird.”
“Sam,” I start. But I don’t really know what to say. This is…incredible.
It’s much more than what Costa suggested.
So, I just think, We’ll deal with this later, but let’s look at this as a beautiful thing. We have to see it like that.