by Ginger Zee
That night, she fell asleep clutching Lana’s lightning bolt necklace. Sam’s photograph lay facedown on her table.
“Three more days of this?” Mia stared daggers at Cyn from the kitchen Friday morning. “I might kill her before Monday checkout.”
“Get in line,” Suze muttered back. Then she pasted on a smile and offered her guests a fresh cup of coffee.
The Beachside, once a peaceful refuge, had turned into a tension-filled abyss because of Cyn. The girl seemed to take pleasure in making life difficult for Suze, Mia, and Helicity. Wet towels on the bathroom floor and clumps of hair in the shower drain. A browned banana peel and a hardened wad of chewed gum on the bedside table, though the trash bin was just a few feet away. Sand tracked everywhere despite a posted request for guests to brush off their feet before entering.
Added to Helicity’s private torture was the fact that Cyn and Sam were glued at the hip every waking moment, from what she could see. Or tried not to see, for the sight of them with their heads close together, laughing and whispering, their hands touching, made her blood turn to ice.
Unfortunately, avoiding Sam meant avoiding the boys’ campsite, the only place she was likely to see Andy. Her brother checked in with her via text and phone call now and then, but for all the time they spent together, he might as well have still been in Michigan.
She did manage to escape Thursday afternoon, when she biked to Trey’s house and ended up staying for dinner. After the dark cloud of Cyn, the Valdezes were like a breath of fresh air, and she inhaled as much of it as she could. She returned to the Beachside that evening feeling lighter and looking forward to her date with Trey the next afternoon.
A drizzling rain had just started falling when she stowed the bike below the deck and mounted the back stairs. Inside, she found Suze, Mia, and Cyn’s parents watching something on television with concerned looks. Cyn was there, too, phone in hand, her bare legs draped over the arm of Suze’s favorite chair and her mouth pouting for a selfie.
Helicity skirted past her and sat next to Mia. “What’s going on?”
“That tropical depression has grown into a tropical storm,” Suze replied grimly. “They’re predicting it could turn into a hurricane soon.”
“Is it headed this way?” Helicity asked.
“It could be,” Suze said cautiously. “We should know more by tomorrow. If it is, they’ll issue a hurricane watch.” She turned to the Gibsons. “You should know that if the storm does strengthen and enter the Gulf, they will likely order a voluntary evacuation for the peninsula.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Cyn demanded.
“Cynthia. Language, please,” her mother chided mildly.
“It means residents are strongly urged to leave because it could get dangerous,” Suze answered. “Heavy rains, crazy winds, it doesn’t take more than a tropical storm to cause serious damage. You do not want to get stranded on the peninsula if a hurricane, even a weak one, comes near here. My suggestion? If there’s even a chance this storm comes near us, leave sooner than later. We will, too. We’ve seen the worst down here.”
That made everyone, even Cyn, fall silent. Then Cyn’s father slapped his knees and stood up. “Well, we’ll just have to hope it doesn’t come this way, because I’d hate to cut our time here short! Now, how about we watch a movie instead of the weather?”
Helicity and Mia made their excuses midway through the opening credits. “What do you think?” Mia asked as they flopped onto their beds. “Are we in for a hurricane?”
“Whether it strengthens from a tropical storm to a hurricane depends on a lot of things,” Helicity said. “Enough warm, moist air to fuel the storm system, the way and strength of the wind in the upper atmosphere—”
“No, I meant, are we in for a hurricane? As in us, right here?” Mia’s voice had an edge to it.
She’s scared, Helicity thought suddenly. After the derecho, she couldn’t blame her. Even with her own fascination with the weather, the thought of being caught in another storm was making her uneasy, too. But that wasn’t what Mia needed to hear.
“Listen, tropical storms fizzle out all the time. But if this one doesn’t, you can bet we’ll be out of here in plenty of time. So, there’s nothing to worry about.”
Mia visibly relaxed. “I know I sometimes make fun of your weather obsession, Hel. But right now, I’m glad you know about this stuff.”
Thursday night’s light rain gave way to a bright, beautiful Friday without a cloud in the sky. Helicity checked the storm first thing that morning and was able to deliver the happy report to Mia that while it was still aiming toward the Gulf, it hadn’t strengthened beyond a tropical storm.
“Too bad,” Mia said jokingly. “A hurricane watch might have ejected Cyn’s family a day or two sooner.”
“Hey. Look on the bright side. The storm could power up again.”
“Ah. We can only hope.” Mia paused. “Forget I said that.”
“Done.”
Helicity whipped through her chores as quickly as she could that morning. She ate a quick lunch, then showered and got ready for her date with Trey.
At least, she thought she was ready until Mia gave her T-shirt and shorts a disapproval rating of Ugh. “Not cute enough,” she objected.
She pawed through Helicity’s clothing and chose a seafoam-green dress with a fitted top and wide straps that crisscrossed in back. Below the waist, the short skirt flared in soft folds. “This,” she declared.
“Isn’t it a little…formal?” Helicity said doubtfully. Her mother had insisted she pack the dress in case she went out to a nice dinner.
Mia thrust the dress at her stubbornly. “This. Now. And these.” She scooped up a pair of tan strappy flats. “Add your dolphin earrings and a brush of mascara, and you’re good to go.”
“I’ll wear the earrings because I love them. But you can forget the mascara.”
“It’s not like you need it anyway,” Mia groused. “Not with those long lashes of yours.”
Laughing, Helicity quickly changed into the dress, combed her hair, added the earrings and sandals, then turned to face Mia. “Okay?”
Mia smiled. “Better than okay. Look.” She spun Helicity to the full-length mirror.
Helicity blinked when she saw her reflection. She’d never cared much about clothes, preferring to wear whatever was most comfortable or fit the task of the day. Oversize T-shirts handed down from Andy, shorts, flannel shirts, hoodies, and jeans—those made up the bulk of her wardrobe.
Now for the first time, she understood that the right outfit could make you feel special. Confident, even. The color of the dress turned her eyes a more brilliant shade of green. The top hugged her without being tight and the skirt flowed with her movements. The silver earrings added just the right amount of shimmer. Her hair swept her bare shoulders, the tawny locks matching her skin’s honey-gold tan. The small nicks and bruises she’d suffered during the derecho were exposed, but somehow, those imperfections made her look real.
“Wait. One last thing.” Helicity snagged Lana’s necklace from her table and looped it over her head.
Mia nodded with satisfaction. “Trey’s not going to know what hit him.”
If so, he wasn’t the only one. Sam looked thunderstruck by her appearance when Helicity descended the loft stairs. “Fifteen.” It came out hoarsely. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Fifteen. You look…different.”
It was the most he’d said to her in the last day and a half. She swallowed her hurt and replied, “Just on the outside. On the inside, I’m still me.”
“Sammy? You coming?” Cyn called from the deck.
Sam hesitated, eyes still on Helicity. Then Helicity’s phone buzzed. She took it out of the tiny purse Mia had loaned her. The dolphin statue selfie appeared with a message that Trey and his mother were pulling into the parking area.
Seeing the picture seemed to shake Sam loose. “Yeah. I’m coming.” To Helicity, he said, “Have fun. You deserve it.
You, and Trey.”
Trey met Helicity at the bottom of the stairs. When she saw him squirming in a collared golf shirt and nice shorts, she silently thanked Mia for insisting on the dress.
Mrs. Valdez dropped them off at the ferry. On board, they found empty seats on the upper deck. Trey sat down with a grimace.
“Does your leg hurt?” Helicity asked anxiously. “If you need to head back or—”
“Not a chance,” Trey responded. “I’ve been looking forward to this for two days.”
Helicity smiled. “Me too.”
“I have a confession.” Trey leaned his elbows on his thighs and swiveled his head to look up at her. “I, um…I’ve never been on a date before.” His expression and his voice had an uncertain quality that made her heart melt just a little bit.
“Me neither. Mia had to pick out my outfit for me.”
Trey burst out laughing. “My dad told me what to wear. And tell Mia she did a great job. You look awesome.”
“So do you.”
The ferry docked in Galveston twenty minutes later. Helicity offered her hand to help Trey to his feet. He took it. And held it as they disembarked.
Sam had arranged for a volunteer from the marine mammal rehab center to meet them in the ferry parking lot. It turned out to be the same woman who had spoken to them on the beach when Scar was rescued. AMANDA, the name embroidered on her bright red volunteer uniform read. She greeted them sincerely, then filled them in on Scar’s condition as she drove them to the center.
“Near as we can tell,” she said, “Scar beached himself while chasing after fish. Dolphins do that sometimes—herd a school toward shore to trap them, then end up getting trapped themselves. Lucky it was just one dolphin and not a whole pod. And that he didn’t strand because of disease or…”
“Or what?” Helicity begged.
“Or chemicals leaching into the water, oil spills in the Gulf. Man-made disasters. When a dolphin—or any sea creature—is exposed to something toxic like that…well, it’s not something you want any living thing to suffer through.” Amanda was quiet for a moment, then smiled. “But, like I said, we think Scar was just a little overzealous in his hunt for food. He’s doing great. In fact, he’s scheduled for release early next week.”
They pulled into the rehab center parking lot. It was more than one building, Helicity saw; actually an industrial-looking complex she could have walked right by without guessing its true purpose. Amanda led them to the nearest building and opened the door. Inside was a desk littered with paperwork, a few display cases containing animal skulls and bones, and a huge wall map of the Gulf. The air was redolent with the smell of fish mixed with a rank, low-tide odor.
“Phew!” Trey wrinkled his nose.
Amanda chuckled. “Yeah, that takes some getting used to. But it’s worth it for this.” She ushered them through another door.
Helicity stopped short in amazement. Inside this section of the building was an enormous rectangular in-ground pool. The ceiling was two stories above them, giving the space an open, airy feel. At the far end of the pool was a large platform partially submerged in the water. And swimming in the water was Scar.
The last time she’d seen him, he’d been immobilized on a stretcher. Now, like a sleek gray torpedo, he skimmed just below the surface of the water, surging forward with powerful strokes of his flukes. As Helicity drew near, the top of his head broke the water’s plane, and his blowhole opened and closed with quick gasps of breath. Then he dipped below again, his dorsal fin with its distinctive white slash slicing through the waves.
“Oh,” Helicity breathed. “He’s so beautiful.”
Amanda gestured toward the dolphin. “Go ahead. You can get closer.”
Helicity didn’t need another invitation. She moved to the pool’s edge and knelt. The hem of her dress dipped into a puddle, and her sandals were instantly soaked. But she didn’t care. Just a glimpse of Scar’s natural smile was enough to make her grin like an idiot.
Trey sank down beside her, equally captivated. “Best first date ever,” he murmured.
Amanda produced a bin with pool toys—a nubbly playground ball, a weighted rubber ring, a bunch of foam noodles, and more. “These are EEDs, or environmental enrichment devices,” she told them as she tossed a few into the water.
“Why does a dolphin need toys?” Trey asked.
“Dolphins are incredibly intelligent animals,” Amanda said. “He’d get bored with nothing to do. These devices provide stimulation.”
Helicity watched fascinated as Scar mouthed the floating ball and then pushed it around with his snout. He seemed to play a game with the ring next, scooping it up, putting it down and swimming away, and then scooping it up again. With Amanda’s permission, Helicity videoed Scar for a few minutes before slipping her phone back into Mia’s purse. She wanted something to remind her of the day, but she wanted to truly experience it—without a screen in the way—even more.
They stayed at the pool for more than an hour. To Helicity it felt like ten minutes. She realized this was the happiest, most peaceful, and free of anxiety she had been in a long time. She glanced at Trey.
Calm. Relaxed. That’s how he makes me feel.
And without meaning to compare, the image of Sam entered as the perfect antithesis. Sam always brought up some anxiety, but excitement and mys-tery, too.
Amanda interrupted her inadvertent checklist comparison when she reluctantly informed them that it was time to go. Helicity was about to stand when Scar drifted over with the ring in his mouth. She held her breath as he rolled to his side and looked up at her with his liquid black eye.
“Do you remember me?” she whispered, her voice no louder than the beat of a moth’s wing. She wanted to believe it. To believe that the connection she felt with Scar wasn’t one-way. That when he was released into the wild next week, he would take a memory of her with him, just as she had her video.
Scar regarded her for another long moment. Then he took a quick breath and dove below the surface with his toy.
Amanda spent another hour with Trey and Helicity, showing them the complex’s research facility, education center, and other tanks that housed sea life in various stages of recovery. At one point, Helicity asked something that had been on her mind since Amanda first told them about the problems with chemicals and oil.
“You mentioned man-made disasters earlier. What about natural disasters? What do dolphins do during a hurricane?”
Amanda raised her eyebrows. “Interesting question. Nobody knows because no one has ever studied their behavior in the midst of such a destructive storm. The accepted theory is that the heavy rains that precede the storm change the salinity—that’s the salt level—in the seawater. The dolphins sense that change and flee to deeper, safer waters. Whether that’s true or not…” She shrugged.
The tour ended shortly after that. “By the way,” Amanda mentioned as they walked back to the main entrance, “most of the people who work here are volunteers. In another year or two, when you’re sixteen, you can both go through the training program, if you like.”
“I wish I could,” Helicity replied with regret, “but I don’t actually live here. In fact, I’m returning to Michigan sometime in the next few weeks. Before school starts.”
Trey suddenly stumbled. Helicity caught his arm to keep him from falling. “Whoa! You all right?”
“My leg,” he muttered. “It’s starting to ache. Okay with you if we head out?”
“Of course!”
Amanda drove them back to the ferry. “Hope you feel better, Trey. And keep an eye on our Facebook page for updates on Scar’s release.”
Helicity and Trey thanked her profusely, then boarded. Trey limped up the metal stairs to the top deck and collapsed on a bench with a groan. His expression was tight with pain and his face was coated with a sheen of sweat.
“Oh, my God, Trey!” Alarmed, Helicity sat down, twisting to face him. “You’re really hurting! Why didn’t you say something
sooner?”
He offered her a smile. “And ruin our day? Not a chance. Especially since we don’t have a whole lot more of them ahead of us. See, I kind of forgot you were leaving Bolivar.”
“Not right away.”
“Yeah. Anyway.” He tipped his head back and closed his eyes. “I’ll be fine.”
Helicity found herself studying Trey’s face. In all the time they’d spent together, she’d never had a chance to look at him that closely. Now her eyes traveled over his soft curls and dark lashes. Traced the chiseled contours of his cheeks and chin. Took in the faint shadow of mustache above his upper lip. Then zeroed in on the lips themselves.
I could kiss him.
The thought caught her off guard. Flustered, she started to turn away when the ferry blasted its horn to signal the start of its journey. Trey’s eyes suddenly opened. His warm brown gaze captured her, rooting her in place.
“Hey,” he whispered, not moving.
“Hey,” she whispered back, heart thumping. She was dimly aware of footsteps behind her. Whose, she didn’t know or care.
Then Trey’s gaze shifted. A slight frown creased his forehead. “What are you doing here?”
Helicity glanced over her shoulder. And gulped. “Sam?”
Sam wore an expression like thunder. “Fifteen,” he growled. “Don’t you ever check your phone?”
The wallpaper on Helicity’s lock screen was all but hidden beneath a lengthy list of missed texts and phone calls. All of them were from Sam—except one.
LANA’S AWAKE! CALL ASAP!
The text was from Ray, Lana’s longtime storm-chasing partner. Helicity leaped up from the bench and stared at Sam, not daring to believe the words. “She’s awake?”
Sam broke into a broad grin. “She’s awake, Fifteen. I talked to Ray half an hour ago. She’s awake, and she’s asking for you. For us.”