Waterfell

by Amalie Howard

  Someone bumps against my side and my heart jumps violently into my mouth. But it’s only two students pushing past me in the parking lot. I haul a deep, calming breath into my lungs, my fingers tightening on the strap of my backpack. I remind myself that Ehmora is not going to attack me in public. I hope.

  But that doesn’t mean that she isn’t watching.

  Ignoring the shiver that climbs up my spine, I walk into the building and head toward my locker. Jenna is waiting next to it, so I wipe the worry from my face and paste a bright smile on it instead.

  “Hey, Riss,” she says in an overly cheery voice.

  “Hey.” I stuff my backpack in my locker and pull out my history books. “What?” I say, noticing her wide-eyed expression.

  “You’re so normal. I mean, so you.”

  I can’t hold back my immediate eye roll. “What did you expect?” I ask. “Random fins sticking out of my head? Shark teeth?”

  “Wait, what? You have shark teeth?”

  “Seriously?” And then I take in Jenna’s own exaggerated eye roll, and we start laughing at the exact same moment. “Careful, or I may have to show you my real teeth, and trust me, they’re way worse than any shark’s.” I bare my perfectly normal human white teeth to her, still grinning. I’m starting to feel a whole lot better as my anxiety slips away for the moment.

  “Ooh, I’m so scared,” Jenna shoots back.

  “Scared of what?” Sawyer says, throwing his arms around Jenna and giving her a big sloppy kiss right in front of me.

  “Really, you two?” I joke. “I just ate breakfast and now it’s in my throat. Get a room or something.”

  “Riss thinks she’s so tough,” Jenna says to Sawyer when their lip-lock comes to an end. “But I think maybe we need to find her a boyfriend of her very own to soften her up.”

  “I don’t do boyfriends,” I toss back, raising my eyebrows meaningfully. “And now you know why.”

  Sawyer perks up immediately. Seriously, the guy is like a male version of Gossip Girl. “Why? You don’t like boys?”

  “No. I mean, yes, I like boys,” I say, flushing. “I just don’t like relationships. I’m young. I want to have fun. Keep my options open.”

  “Way open,” Jenna quips. I glare at her but it doesn’t stop her. “More fish in the sea, that kind of thing?” she says with an innocent look. I want to kick her in the shins but can’t stop the grin cracking the corners of my lips. At least she hasn’t lost her sense of humor.

  “Exactly right. More fish in the sea,” I agree.

  Sawyer shakes his head. “You know, Riss, I never thought you were that kind of girl, otherwise I’d have dated you instead of No-Fun over here.” That comment earned him a well-deserved punch in the arm from his girlfriend.

  “You have a lot of fun,” Jenna says indignantly, dragging Sawyer’s face down to hers until she breaks away breathlessly. “Are you having fun now?”

  “You know I’m just kidding, babe.” Sawyer grins and kisses the top of Jenna’s nose. “But Riss is kind of hot.”

  I snort. “Eww, you’re like a brother to me. So not my type.”

  “Sawyer, heads up!” Jenna and I practically dive out of the way as Sawyer makes a photo-worthy lunge across the hallway to grab a neon yellow flying disc. “Nice catch,” a voice shouts from behind me.

  At the familiar tone, it’s impossible to stop the tingling that starts at the base of my ears. Turning in slow motion, I meet Lo’s gaze and my breath stops. His hair is still wet from his surf session and his skin is glowing, making those eyes of his seem even more bottomless. It’s been over a week since I pretty much made it clear that I wanted nothing to do with him...a week since my collapse, which thankfully he—and anyone else—wasn’t around to see.

  I try to say hello but the word sticks in my throat on its way out so I stare at my shoes instead, which only makes my gaze jump to Lo’s sand-flecked feet as he stops to retrieve the Frisbee from Sawyer. Inwardly I grin at the flip-flops—an obvious act of rebellion on his part considering they aren’t part of the Dover Prep uniform. It’s one of the other things I like about him. Not his complete and blatant disregard for the rules but that he doesn’t compromise himself and who he is. There’s a strength in that.

  “So mono, huh?”

  I realize that Lo’s talking to me after Jenna nudges me with her elbow.

  “What? Sorry, yes.” Glaring at Jenna in belated understanding that she’d told everyone I’d had mono, I nod without looking at Lo. Couldn’t she have picked something a little more dignified like a broken arm or an amputated appendage or something? Mono. Just gross.

  “So...been kissing a lot of guys?”

  Like a bomb, even though it’s a joke, there’s sudden dead silence. Sawyer laughs nervously, and if Jenna’s eyes get any bigger, she’s going to look like more of an alien than I am. This time, I do look at Lo, whose face is deadpan until the corner of his mouth curls upward along with his eyebrow. His eyes soften. Something in them throws me, making my legs feel like they can’t hold me up any longer. Every drop of water surges within me toward him and I’m flailing inside like a fish out of water.

  “Not going to kiss and tell?” Even his voice shifts to a lower cadence to match the expression in his eyes, and the only thing I feel is panic.

  “Where’s Cara?” I blurt out.

  I could kick myself. Repeatedly.

  Lo’s lips twist into an oddly wry expression and a shadow crosses his face. The softness I’d seen in his eyes vanishes in a blink as if it had never been there. He was flirting. With me! He offered me a truce and I stupidly said the first dumb thing that came to my mouth. Where’s Cara? Idiot.

  “Where’s Speio?” Lo returns coolly, and pats Sawyer on the back, stepping past me. I deserve that, I know. Jenna doesn’t say anything and busies herself with her locker, knowing better than to say anything to me especially about Lo. Taking a minute to compose myself, I snap my own locker shut.

  “See you guys in class,” I say to no one in particular, and walk past Sawyer and Jenna without looking at Lo. It’s magnetic—and maddening—the way each cell in my body wants to throw itself into him, and the farther away I get, the more I feel him pulling me back. I wonder if this is what Jenna feels whenever she’s around Sawyer. The laws of human attraction are new to me. For some reason the thought of Dvija races through my brain, and I’m breathless. I realize now that the intense longing I’d felt via Speio is pretty similar to what I’m feeling right at this moment.

  Only it’s for a human boy, and it’s not like I’ve gone through Dvija or anything.

  Just before I walk into the classroom, I glance over my shoulder only to have the breath stolen from my lungs. Lo’s eyes are deep and piercing. I feel the weight of them hovering, watching. Holding me motionless as time, too, stands still. I force myself to peel my gaze away from his compelling stare, making my feet obey weak commands to enter the classroom...one in front of the other like a drone. Something hot pulses across the back of my neck, racing across my body, and I can’t even think.

  It’s not Ehmora that will be the death of me.

  It’s this boy.

  11

  CONNECTIONS

  The ocean is cool and dark and mesmerizing. Its arms are wide and ever reaching, gathering me close in cool undulating swatches of navy and midnight-blue. A silver flash catches my eye as a shoal of fish rush past, the reflective surface of their scales catching the shimmer of light piercing into the deeper water. My eyes follow as they swim upward, where the navy transforms into shades of aqua and turquoise. Shapeless waves rock me tenderly, cradling my body in a mother’s liquid embrace.

  I could rest there forever. Or dream it, anyway.

  Instead of my blue paradise, I’m sweating it out in a classroom and wishing for the second when I can leave to
get to that exact place in my mind. The place where I can let it all go if only for one minute—Jenna, Ehmora, my mother, Speio and, most of all, Lo, whose glances I can still feel fluttering over me like mist.

  If I didn’t know better, I’d guess that he’s studying me...trying to work me out or something. His face, when I occasionally glance to the side of the room where he is sitting, is thoughtful and serious. Any other guy would have been history by this point—boys aren’t interested in girls who humiliate them. He must be a glutton for punishment or have some secret stalker issues that no one knows about, unless he’s shooting for some kind of revenge angle. But Lo doesn’t strike me as that type.

  Cara, definitely, but not him. I notice her eyeballing me and I glare back. Lo isn’t her property even if she thinks he is. He’s clearly not mine, either, but I’ll be damned if I let her intimidate me. Raising my eyebrow in silent challenge, I let my gaze slide to Lo, who is sitting in the desk to her right. Given our history, it’s not exactly the nice thing to do, but I do it, anyway, watching as Cara’s face turns a splotchy shade of pink.

  Oblivious to our little catty byplay, Lo leans back in his chair, his lower lip caught between his teeth, studying the chapter on European colonization that we’re supposed to be reading. He stretches out his legs and crosses them, pulling the textbook to his hips. He has long slender fingers, I notice. Hands are one of my favorite things about being human. I find them beautiful and graceful, even the short stubby kinds. Lo’s are noticeably well-groomed.

  A lock of sandy hair curls into his face and he swipes it away with a quick swish of his fingers. He sure is easy on the eyes, I’ll give him that. I don’t know if I’m getting softer or he’s getting cuter or if I’m just pretending to put on a good show for Cara, who is growing redder by the second. But the growing ache in my chest suggests otherwise.

  I can’t seem to let him go.

  Cara slides a note across to Lo and he reads it. They both look at me, her face full of malice, and his blank. Caught staring, I can’t hide the answering flush that rises up my neck as I stare blindly at my own textbook. Fighting the sick urge to shape a glimmer to read whatever’s in the note, I study the page in front of me until the text starts to blur. I read the same passage fifteen times before the heat making my ears feel like they’re on fire starts to recede. I don’t care what’s in the note.

  Sure you do, a sneaky inner voice taunts.

  I’ve half made up my mind to do it when Mr. Moss raps on his desk and announces a pop quiz for the last few minutes of class. A collective groan makes its way across the classroom as Mr. Moss passes out the sheets. I’m not worried—human world history is my strong suit, given I’d had to learn it when other human kids were learning their colors and shapes.

  “When you’ve finished, hand in your answers and you may leave,” Mr. Moss says.

  I mark the answers quickly and wait a couple minutes before turning in my paper. Jenna and Sawyer are not too far behind me, and catch up to me at the lockers.

  “Want to ditch study hall with us?” Sawyer whispers. I stare in shock at Jenna—she’s the last person who’d ditch any classes whatsoever. She frowns on it something fierce whenever Sawyer skips school for surfing.

  “Big week,” she says a trifle defensively. “I need some downtime.”

  “We could get in serious trouble if we get caught,” I say.

  “Got it covered,” Lo says, walking over to us. “My car is parked outside the service entrance behind the cafeteria. And if anyone asks, Principal Cano needed to see us.”

  “Cano?” I say warily. “You’re playing with fire. He hates ditchers. How?”

  “Cara’s got it.”

  I don’t even hide the skepticism on my face. “Cara? She’ll throw us under the bus the first chance she can get. You can’t trust her.”

  “She’s my friend. And you can trust me.”

  “Exactly,” I say. “She’s your friend. Not ours. And she kind of hates me, so maybe I should just bail.”

  “Are you kidding?” Sawyer says. “If there’s one time you have to cut last period, it’s today. The tide’s in and the waves are magic. Double overhead from that storm swell forecast. You’ve gotta come with!”

  “Trust me on this, okay?” Lo says.

  Despite my misgivings, I follow them down to a side exit in the back end of the cafeteria. I don’t know why I agreed. Maybe it was the expression in those liquid blue eyes, or maybe it’s the thought of finally being in the ocean. Or maybe it’s the fiery feeling still licking through my entire body at Lo’s nearness. Either way, nothing inside me puts up a fight, and the truth is, I want to go.

  Lo’s car is parked where he’d said and to my surprise I see my big-wave board in the back of the truck, along with Sawyer’s and Lo’s. Even Jenna’s gun surfboard is there, and I shoot her an accusing glare that she pretends not to see. I can’t even believe that Jenna is in on it—she hates when Sawyer cuts class to surf.

  “Did you guys plan this?”

  “What’s any break-out-of-school expedition without planning?” Sawyer says with a wink. “We need to think in advance. Where have you been, anyway? Under a rock? This storm has only been the topic of conversation every hour for the past week. First time the La Jolla Cove is breaking in, like, years. We have to go.”

  I roll my eyes in Jenna’s direction. “I was under a rock. Had mono, remember?”

  “Oh, right. The kissing queen,” Sawyer quips with a snide look at Lo, who is suddenly busy strapping the boards down in the back of the truck.

  “Shut up,” I say, and climb into the truck. I try not to be affected by Lo’s proximity on the far end.

  He shoots me an apologetic look. “This truck’s plenty big with room for three across but it’s going to be a tight squeeze with the four of us.”

  “Is this even legal?” Jenna asks, squashing in next to me. I don’t answer. I can’t even talk now that Lo’s entire right side is in firm contact with my left. I can feel the warmth of his skin through his uniform and smell the salt still on him. I try not to breathe as Sawyer tucks in on the end, shoving Jenna and I across until I’m well and truly sandwiched between Jenna and Lo.

  “Sorry,” she says.

  “You two can share the middle seat belt,” Lo tells us in a weird, tight voice. “We’ll take the back roads just in case.”

  “This is totally illegal,” Jenna mutters again.

  “What’s a breakout without some illicit action?” Sawyer chimes in loudly, making us all jump. I inch my way closer to Jenna but nothing stops the warmth of Lo from leaning into me. He is holding himself rigidly, and as he starts the engine his arm brushes past mine.

  “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” I manage.

  Lo puts the truck into gear and we pull out of the parking lot. For one moment, I think I see Cara’s face in the second-floor study hall window but I’m sure I’m imagining it because when I crane my neck over Jenna to see as we drive past, there’s no one there. My nerves must be kicking in.

  The ride down to the beach is quick but feels like forever. The tendons in the back of my neck are aching from holding myself perfectly still. Every time Lo pulls on the steering wheel or accelerates, his arm or leg shifts against mine. The friction is unbearable on so many levels. By this point, I can feel Lo’s heartbeat pounding against the bare skin of my arm, and my own pulse has unconsciously aligned itself with his. It’s torturous and magical at the same time.

  I glance over at Jenna, who is practically sitting in Sawyer’s lap and looking pretty happy about it. Between Lo and I holding ourselves like pieces of clay and those two lovebirds nuzzling into each other like baby kittens, the tension in the truck is so thick that it’s nearly solid. I lick dry lips and feel Lo’s gaze flutter over them before he drags his attention back to the road. The tension jumps up ano
ther notch and not even the wind blowing in from outside can dissipate it. I hold my breath and count to a hundred in my head, my eyes fixed on a tiny chip in the windshield.

  “You okay?” Lo asks.

  My nod barely qualifies as movement, but Lo takes it as an answer, anyway. I count from a hundred back to one but it’s useless. My attraction to this boy is skyrocketing with each passing second and the attempt to calm my nervous energy is only making me focus on it more. The water in my body is rushing around like a reverse waterfall, up and back over my limbs, into my chest and head like wildfire just from his nearness. I can hardly contain it.

  I force myself to think of math homework, running my brain through countless complex equations. Then I define and spell every single SAT word I can think of that we’ve covered over the entire year. I’m so desperate for mind over body control that my next step is French conjugation.

  “We’re here.”

  I don’t think I could have made it a single minute more. And who knows what that might have turned into—me climbing on top of Lo and having my way with him or punching Sawyer in the face just to get out of the car. Or maybe something even worse, such as my skin lighting up like the sky on the Fourth of July? That would have been pretty...and pretty hard to talk my way out of.

  Grabbing my wet suit, which Lo has thoughtfully provided alongside my board—I don’t even want to know what he told Soren to get it—I make my way to the women’s bathroom at the end of the pier.

  “Riss, wait up!” Jenna shouts, running to catch up, her own wet suit and swimwear in hand. “Hey, you okay?” she asks when she catches up to me. The bathroom is empty so we don’t bother to use the toilet stalls. Instead, we head over to a bench next to the pay lockers lining the wall.

  “I’m fine,” I say. I throw my gear into one of the open lockers and strip.

  “You don’t look fine. You look worked up. And red.”

  “Red?” I ask, pretending to tug on the leg of my wet suit. I know exactly what she’s going to say.