Embers in the Sea

by Jennifer M. Eaton

  David’s face filled the lens before he drew my camera down with one finger. “I don’t really have much time.”

  I stared at him, letting my camera hang loose around my neck. The draw swirled inside me, but I managed not to step toward him as his words sunk in. “Excuse me?”

  David sighed. “Listen—”

  Oh, I was sooo not ready to listen.

  I punched with both my hands, bashing him in the chest. “No, you listen. You’re gone for how long, and all you have to say when you get back is you don’t have much time?” I slammed him again, and he stepped back. “I waited for you. I waited for you like an idiot, wasting my senior year staring at the stars, but did you even call? No. I heard nothing from you. Nada. Nunca. Did you ever even … ever even … ”

  At some point during my tirade, he’d grabbed my wrists. His face was expressionless.

  My hands remained fisted, ready to punch. His lips tightened as his grip relaxed. “Can I let go of you now?”

  I closed my eyes and nodded, even though I didn’t want him to let go of me. Not now. Not ever.

  His hands fell to his sides, but I wasn’t done.

  Two years. Two freaking years! I punched his chest again. My fists thudded like striking a lightly padded wall. I shook the ache away.

  David grimaced. “Are you done?”

  I dug my nails into my palms. I didn’t know what I wanted to do more: kiss him, or smack that annoyed look off his face. “No. I’m not done. I’m angry.”

  Matt appeared at my right. He gulped, his gaze trained on David. What was he going to do, protect my honor?

  Maggie touched my left shoulder. “What’s wrong with you?”

  What was wrong with me? For years I’ve been waiting for him to come back. But now the only emotion coursing through me was anger. But was I angry at David, or at myself for still feeling this stupid connection?

  David ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t have time for this.”

  Time again. Getting hit with a bat would have hurt less.

  Just how insignificant was I to him? I thought he loved me. But maybe it was never about me. Maybe it was only about humanity as a whole, and I was only part of that. God, what an idiot I was.

  Matt moved a little closer.

  Brave. Dependable.

  Matt always called. He never left me hanging. Okay, maybe he never saved my life or anything, but he was a good guy. He’d save me if he had to. I think.

  David’s eyes narrowed, and his attention shifted from me to Matt.

  Oh, crap! Next time hold your thoughts around the telepathic alien, Jess!

  “I don’t know you,” David said.

  “This ought to be good,” Maggie whispered.

  Matt gulped and offered his hand. “Hi. I’m, umm, Matt. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  David just stared at him.

  “Matt is Jess’s boyfriend,” Maggie said.

  Oh. My. Gosh. She did not just do that!

  Matt stepped back. “Can we please not tick off the already ticked-off-looking alien that’s twice my size?”

  David’s gaze fell on me.

  Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts. Nothing going on here. No-sir-ee, Bob.

  David blinked, took Matt’s hand, and shook. “It’s nice to meet another friend of Jess’s.”

  Wow. That went well.

  He faced me. “I need to talk you.” His voice—so short. So direct.

  “We’re already talking.”

  “Not here.” He glanced over his shoulder. Seven or eight cameras fired off as his warm hands surrounded my fingers. “Please come with me.”

  I gazed into my reflection on the shimmering exterior of his ship.

  “David, I don’t think I should—”

  Come.

  His voice rumbled through my mind, shattering points inside me and breaking any desire I had to rebuke him.

  His grip tightened, and I started walking.

  “Jess, are you alright?” Matt asked, reaching for me.

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  But wait, was I? Did I really want to get on that ship? I’d just gotten my life back. Well, somewhat at least. College was going great. Getting on that ship meant Jessica Martinez’s name plastered across every internet site in the world again. There was nothing I wanted less.

  I dug my heels into the lawn. “Wait. I can’t go with you.” David raised an eyebrow. “I, I need—” I turned back to Matt. “I need ice cream. Matt and I were going for ice cream, and, and maybe even lunch.” David’s brow furrowed. I raised my chin, ignoring it. “Friends don’t let each other down.” I slipped my hand away from David and folded my arms. “So yeah, there it is. I can’t go. We’re getting ice cream.”

  David’s head tilted in that adorable way that made me want to inch my palms up his arms and drag my fingers all over his … No! No feelings. No feelings at all! I tapped my foot and looked away.

  “Ice cream?” David asked.

  “Yes. It’s cold. You’d hate it.”

  A yellow hue flashed over the crystal hull of the ship. David’s lips tightened as he faced his reflection. “I’m coming,” he whispered.

  Did he just talk to his ship?

  The turquoise in his eyes darkened to a deeper blue, nearly human, as he turned to Matt. “I’ll have her back in a few hours. Will that still give you ample time to get this—ice cream?”

  The muscle in David’s neck tensed as he spoke, and regret flowed across the tether that bound us. Had he just lied?

  Matt formed several words before lowering his shoulders. “Yeah, I guess that would be all right.”

  “Wuss,” Maggie whispered.

  I elbowed her in the ribs. She answered with an innocent grin before her eyes danced all over David again.

  Part of me wanted to throw something at Matt. But the realist in me didn’t blame him for backing down. Anyway, David had never outright lied to me. Omit the truth, maybe, but if he said he’d have me back in a few hours …

  Something deep inside me sank. I usually trusted him. So why didn’t I now? Maybe because he hadn’t met my gaze. Did he know I’d felt his guilt?

  But why lie to Matt?

  I had a bad feeling I was going to need a double decker sundae with extra hot fudge by the time this afternoon was over.

  3

  Maggie gave me a thumbs-up as David led me into the cylinder below the spaceship. Matt kicked the dirt at his feet. Poor guy. He finally got the gumption to ask me out, and this happened.

  Light flooded around us, followed by a chill that propelled David and me upward.

  A sick, tingly feeling gnawed at my gut. The last time I was on a spaceship we …

  Oh! David slipped his hands around my waist. His strength seeped through me, into my very being, filling the holes that had lain empty for the past few years.

  David had said we were connected. I knew this, because we can speak telepathically, but maybe it was deeper than that. Were those holes inside me because of him? Did I need him to fill me with his David-ness to feel complete? What did this connection really mean?

  The amber glow dissipated, and David eased us off the glistening disk that had appeared beneath our feet. “Give me a second and I’ll adjust the temperature so you’re not too warm.”

  “Thanks.”

  I wiped the sweat that had beaded on my brow the second I entered the ship. Maggie must have been so excited to be aboard that she hadn’t thought to complain about flying inside a giant oven. It had to be over a hundred degrees. Nice and hot, just like the Erescopians liked it.

  The walls shimmered like mirrors before morphing into a translucent, milky white. The ceiling rose several feet higher than the roof of the smaller ship we’d traveled in two years ago, and the hallway leading to the front of the ship seemed much longer. I felt like I was standing in the foyer of a two-story mansion rather than a spaceship.

  “Wow. Nice digs
. New?”

  “Yes. It’s experimental technology. Do you like it?”

  Experimental. Wow. The last ship was made of an alien metal able to transform into any shape the pilot wanted. How could you improve on that?

  A smile crossed my lips when I realized I wasn’t shying away from the walls. This soft, creamy white-ness warmed like a hug, chasing away the memories of the dreary dark corridors of the other crafts we’d flown in. I guess the old design could be improved on.

  A purplish-blackish blotch formed in the wall, expanding outward like a giant knot in a tree. The bulge quivered before a dark, hairy form rose out of the liquidic surface, completely dry, as if it had sunk in reverse. Ten spindle-like legs shot out of the mass before the creature leaped toward me. I held up my arms and caught a gargantuan, chirping spider.

  “Edgar!” I cuddled his eighteen-inch frame to my chest as he nuzzled his coarse mandibles into the crook of my neck. “I missed you too, buddy.” The grassen’s six-inch, triple fangs expanded and retracted as I scratched the bald space above his three glossy black eyes.

  “Apparently she’s happier to see you than she is to see me,” David grumbled.

  He walked toward the front of the ship and waved his arms over the panels below two huge windows that took up most of the forward wall. New York’s skyscrapers blurred before blue sky and clouds encompassed the view screens.

  Whoa.

  Edgar crawled up and draped himself over my shoulder. His hind legs tickled my back as I raised Old Reliable and clicked off seven shots. “It didn’t even feel like we moved.”

  David sunk his arms into the blue-tinted liquid that made up the console. “This ship is designed to excel in extreme pressure environments. The ride in space was even smoother. And it’s fast. Really fast.”

  I placed Edgar on the floor. He waved his one gray leg before he scampered to the right and plunged into the shimmering liquid wall. The partition formed circles, like someone had thrown a stone into a lake, before smoothing once again. I’d never get tired of watching that.

  But Edgar’s sudden exit had left me alone with David, and the awkwardness that had grown between us. It didn’t have to be this way. At least it shouldn’t have been this way.

  Dammit, all this time I didn’t even know if he was alive or not. How did he expect me to react when he just showed up out of nowhere?

  When I stepped toward the windows, a blob of clear liquid bubbled up to form a chair beside David. I slipped Old Reliable into my backpack, set the worn leather on the floor, and sat.

  “Is that why you came back, to show me your new hot-rod?” The bite in my voice singed my lips. I regretted my tone, but only a little. Until he turned, that is.

  The pain in his eyes sliced through me. God, did I want to wipe that expression from his face, cuddle him into my arms, and beg for forgiveness.

  Wait. What? No. I was mad at him. Angry. Super angry.

  His lower lip twitched and his brow furrowed.

  You’re reading my mind, aren’t you?

  “I don’t have to. The indignation is radiating off your skin.” He turned his chair and stared back at the panel, sucking in the side of his cheek.

  Damn, did I want to cave. I missed him. I missed him like I missed chocolate during Lent. No, worse. But he needed to understand how freaking lost I’d been for the past two years.

  The waiting. The wondering. The not knowing.

  Every day I’d watch the news and see all the updates about Mars.

  I’d been riveted to my screen when NASA released pictures of the red planet when it began turning blue. I’d celebrated when they’d confirmed it was water—oceans on Mars!

  And I’d waited for a sign. Anything. Hadn’t David wanted to share his accomplishment with me? Didn’t I mean enough to him to call?

  And then he shows up like nothing happened. And finds me with another guy. Why didn’t that bother him? Was his ego so inflated that he didn’t even consider Matt competition? Or was he just being David, the sweet, unassuming scientist I fell in love with?

  “You were really nice to Matt,” I said.

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “You didn’t even flinch when Maggie said he was my boyfriend.”

  He tapped a point in the upper right of the console. “Because it wasn’t true.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  He laughed. “If I tell you, you’ll be mad.”

  “Madder than I already am? Not likely.”

  David turned to me, resting his left elbow on the edge of the console. “When I stepped off the ship your emotions flooded me like a cyclone. You felt pity for Matt. Nothing more. Your most direct thoughts, your desires, were centered on me.”

  My eyes widened. “You conceited son of a—”

  “Your thoughts. Not mine.”

  I gritted my teeth and perused the laces in my sneakers. “Stop reading my mind. It’s not right. You shouldn’t know what I’m thinking.”

  He spun back to the console. “Like I said, that’s very hard sometimes.”

  Was he right, though? Was I only mildly concerned about Matt? Didn’t I feel anything else? Matt was a great guy. Cute. Smart. Funny. I loved being with him. But what did that mean?

  I took a deep breath and grasped the arms of my chair. “You stared at me for a second when Maggie said Matt was my boyfriend. You were checking to see how I felt about him, weren’t you? It wasn’t any cyclone-effect. You read my mind on purpose.”

  “I really don’t want you any angrier than you already are.”

  “Be honest. What did you see? How do I feel about Matt?”

  He dropped his chin to his chest, as if all his muscles gave out at once. “You’re very close, maybe closer than you are with Maggie. But it’s friendship. I found nothing to be troubled about.” His chair swiveled toward me. “Was I supposed to pretend to be worried? Did you expect me to hurt Matt? Is that why you were concerned for him?”

  “No.” Yes. I don’t know. “It just seemed like you didn’t even care.”

  David’s face hardened. “You know better than that.”

  Did I?

  He returned his gaze to the windows above the control panel. “We’re here.”

  “Here? Where’s here?”

  “Just south of a grouping of islands about two-thousand five-hundred miles off your continent’s west coast.”

  I still had no sensation of moving as we flew low and passed a torrent of bubbling water cascading from the side of a mountain and disappearing into a world shrouded in pre-dawn twilight.

  Wait. Twilight? It was noon when we left. I squinted at the shadowy treetops barely visible below us. The light emanating from the ship caught the outlines of large multi-segmented leaves. Palm trees? I turned back toward the waterfall. Was it possible? “Is that Hawaii?”

  We circled several times, sinking closer to the surface as the sun began to rise. Yup. Those were definitely palm trees.

  “You brought me to Hawaii?” I jumped up and down—I must have looked like a complete idiot, but I didn’t really care. From New York to Hawaii in under ten minutes? We could go anywhere in this thing and be back before Dad ever cried foul. How stinking cool was that?

  “It’s nice to see you smile again.” David slid his hand into mine and tugged me back toward the shiny disk that would take us down to the beach. “This isn’t the place you know as Hawaii. This is an uninhabited island about one thousand miles south of there.”

  Still, a tropical island! How cool is this? You are forgiven. You are forgiven. You are forgiven.

  I reeled in my thoughts. How stinking shallow was I? Two years alone and I could forget it all because of a surprise trip to paradise? Did David have any idea how special somewhere like this might be to me, or did he just pluck a warm location off the map so he’d be more comfortable?

  We stepped onto the disk and dropped into the elevator tube. I clung to him until the cylinde
r opened to the sound of the ocean and the smell of salt. A sea bird cawed overhead, not more than a shadow in the early dawn light.

  David guided me from the ship. My sneakers sank into soft sand as a gentle, warm breeze shifted my hair. Soft waves lapped the beach beside the ship. Behind us, mountains rose, circling us on three sides in a private cove.

  I’d never seen anything so beautiful.

  “We missed it,” David grumbled. “I can’t believe it.” He trudged around the base of the ship.

  Along the horizon, the sun kissed the sea good morning, splashing fiery orange across the water.

  “Missed what?”

  Sand crept into my sneakers as I followed. David stopped, facing the high, dark mountain. A thin, silver, reflective blanket lay across the beach, weighted by seashells at the corners and a covered bowl of fruit at the center. The sunrise basked the scene in a reddish, warm glow.

  My stomach sank to my toes. “Wait a minute. Was this supposed to be a date?”

  He pointed toward the sea. “I didn’t expect to have trouble finding you. And now we’ve missed the sunrise. And you’re angry with me. And nothing is going right.”

  I stepped closer. “You did all this for me?”

  “Well, yeah. I missed you, and I wanted to spend a few minutes with you before … ” He lowered his eyes and kicked the sand at his feet.

  “I’m sorry I was so upset, but you just showed up out of the blue.”

  He slipped his hands into mine. That sweet, lost little boy air coated his features. “So, showing up is bad, but also not coming to see you is bad.” He shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

  I plopped onto the blanket, pulling him beside me. “It’s not that you showed up, it’s just that you’ve been gone so long.”

  “But it was less than a full cycle.”

  “Well, I don’t know what you mean by a full cycle, but two years is a really long time on Earth.”

  “I didn’t … ” He rubbed his palms on his jeans. “I don’t know.” A myriad of expressions flashed across his face before his eyes saddened. “I never wanted you mad at me. You are the only one who ever really believed in me. You are the last person I’d consciously make unhappy.” He stared at me, as if memorizing the lines in my face. “I screwed up. I’m sorry.”