She sat straight up in bed. Did he seriously just say that? She shoved her hair impatiently out of her face and almost fell getting out of bed. She padded into the kitchen and asked, “Seriously?” suddenly wide awake and able to form coherent sentences.
Evan turned around. She thought her eyes were playing tricks and rubbed at them vigorously—no, he really was wearing jeans and a t-shirt. A t-shirt, for crying out loud! Shaking her head, she asked, “Are you really taking me to Sea World?” She couldn't help feeling excited, like a little kid that had just been told they were going to Disneyland for Christmas and Santa was meeting them there.
Evan stepped to one side, revealing a massive stack of pancakes, slathered in whipped cream, strawberries, and bananas, and said, “It is your birthday.” Only then did Integrity notice the single candle, standing somewhat crookedly in the center of her breakfast.
She felt like her mouth was hanging open, but was glad to find that it wasn't. Trying to act casual, she walked around to the other side of the bar and scooted onto one of the high stools. “What, the candle's not lit?”
“Are you complaining? I could always ignore your birthday and you could lock yourself away in the bedroom, like you've been doing for nearly a week now.”
“No, no, no complaints here,” she hurried to say, pulling the candle from it's place and sucking the whipped cream off of it. “Heck, I'd be nice to Ben if it meant going to Sea World,” she muttered under her breath. Evan heard, but only turned and walked away. She had a feeling he was repeating in his head, “It's her birthday,” over and over.
Cut the guy some slack, she chastised herself, digging into the fluffy pancakes. After all, you've always known he's bi-polar. You can't expect the poor guy to cure his mental illness over night. She froze, her fork poised in midair, dripping red juice. Did you seriously just call him a “poor guy”? Slow the roll; it's just Sea World. He's still Evan.
But she knew that it wasn't “just” Sea World. How could it ever be “just” Sea World? It was the one place she had been dying to go back to ever since she was 8-years-old. She couldn't remember much of that trip, but she knew then that she had to go back someday. And it looks like today's that day. Just don't blow it!
Hair still wet from the shower, she found herself in the passenger seat of Evan's car, not going nearly fast enough. She caught a glimpse of a roller coaster, assumed it was at Sea World, and was almost bouncing in her seat before they finally pulled into the parking space. Evan pulled two tickets out of his wallet as they walked to the entrance gate.
“Where'd you get those?” Integrity asked, nodding toward his hand. They looked genuine, not like something he could have printed off from a hotel lobby computer.
He looked askance at her, then focused forward once more. “You'd be surprised what I can get done while you're asleep. You humans sleep a lot, you know.” While he didn't sound entirely friendly, at least he kept his tone light. Integrity decided to just take what she got and not complain. Who cared, really, when she was moments away from seeing a killer whale?
There were dozens, possibly hundreds, of people milling around outside the entrance. Some were wearing matching shirts, as though at a family reunion. Children were everywhere, and Integrity frowned at how few of them actually had an adult watching what they were doing, but she brushed it off. I'm at Sea World!
Evan had timed out the whole day so that they could see every show. Integrity was on a high the entire time, not caring if her feet hurt or her nose was getting sunburned. She was thoroughly confused, however, when, just before lunch, Evan stopped in front of a gift shop and didn't move on.
“Come on, let's go down and see the dolphins,” Integrity urged, unable to keep the excitement out of her voice.
“Here, take this,” Evan said, holding out a sack to her. She took it in confusion, but before she could ask what was going on, a man started calling out people's names.
“Claena Johnson.”
Evan prodded her forward. When she didn't continue, he hissed, “That's you.”
“What--” she hissed back, but he shoved her forward and she joined a small group of people that had drifted nearer the man.
“If you guys will just follow me.” The guy led them through a small gate and down a path into a small classroom. Referring to a poster on the wall, he began talking about the different parts of a dolphin. When he said, “As you can see, their eyes are right here, and they would appreciate it if you wouldn't poke them in it,” she started feeling nervous and excited. Are we going to get to touch one?
The man wrapped up, asked if there were any questions, then told them to follow two other people to the dressing rooms. Feeling like a heel for not knowing what was going on, Integrity hurried to follow behind the women.
If she'd thought she was nervous before she opened the locker and saw a wet suit, she was wrong. Now she was nervous.
She found a modest swimming suit in the sack Evan had given her, and took it and the wetsuit from her locker into a private bathroom. After a few minutes, she grunted and dropped the wetsuit at her feet. Are you freaking kidding me? She shoved her hair out of her face and tried, once again, to pull the thing up further than her calves. She was growing desperate, worried that she had the wrong size or, worse, that she'd be left behind, and somehow managed to haul the suit over her shoulders. Surprisingly, it stopped feeling so constricting. Flustered, she zipped it up, tugged on the booties, and hurried out to the dressing room. She'd finished just in time.
Outside of the changing rooms, the people in charge began separating them into small groups of about six. Integrity was assigned a pleasant, smiling woman, who waved for them to near the pool. Everyone walked down a short ladder into water that was about waist deep.
Her palms were sweating. Was this really happening? Don't get your hopes up. Just calm down. They might not bring a dolphin out at all. Maybe you're just here to swim. But she knew she wasn't.
“Ah, here she comes!” the trainer said, clapping her hands together once. With surprising speed, a monstrous dolphin suddenly bobbed up in the water in front of them. Integrity forgot to breathe for a moment. Yes, she'd always wanted to touch a dolphin, but she hadn't realized they were so huge. The thing's a freaking car!
The hour blew by far too quickly for Integrity's liking, and she found herself clenching her hands together painfully to keep from flinging them around and screaming from excitement. Don't scare the dolphin; don't scare the dolphin.
When they climbed out of the water, she felt as though she'd only been there a few minutes. She was sad to leave, but way too pumped to complain. I swam with the dolphins!
Є
“And they're so hard! Did you know that their blowholes smell like fish?” Integrity rambled as they weaved their way through a crowd after she'd changed back into her street clothes. Hopping to a stop, she said, “Oh, oh! Did you see Sue bite me?”
Evan laughed incredulously. “You sound like that's a good thing.”
Chagrined, but too happy to care, Integrity turned from him and started walking again. “Well, how many people can say they've been bit by a dolphin?” she justified. She stopped again, forcing him to follow suit. She looked at him intently. “Hey, thank you. That meant a lot to me.”
His gaze shifted microscopically, then centered on her pupils once more. “Don't thank me. It was Paul's idea.” He sounded almost put out, as though she'd insulted him.
“Paul? Are you in contact with him?”
“C'mon, we're going to be late for the lettuce presentation to the manatees.” Evan started walking down the pathway again, not waiting for her. Ticked that he was trying to ruin her day, she stuck her tongue out at his retreating back, then hurried to catch up, though she wouldn't walk beside him. She'd rather follow along like a child, still wrapped in her happy little bubble, then allow him to puncture it.
Є
The manatee building was dark and cool, almost reminiscent of a cave, but the giant animals were so
gentle and graceful that there were no feelings of oppression involved. Integrity was amazed at just how large the animals were, and saddened at the marked damage each showed from boat propellers. Realizing she had one hand pressed to the glass, she pulled it away, not wanting to leave a smudge. I'm glad they have somewhere safe to live, she thought as one turned to its back, holding the head of lettuce between its small front flippers. She turned to see the effect they had on Evan, but saw that he had moved into the gift shop, though he still had a clear view of her. She assumed it was for the sake of the animals, to keep them from becoming distraught, but felt only grudging gratitude for the consideration. She walked to the dimly lit gift shop.
“Ready to go?” Evan asked.
“Are you going to steal that?” Integrity nodded toward his hand, which loosely held a small stuffed manatee toy. He looked at his hand in surprise, as though it had acted of its own volition, crammed it back on the shelf, and stalked from the store. Integrity raised her eyes at the clerk as though to say, “Geez, what crawled up his butt and died?” then followed after him leisurely. At least I broke through his calm. She laughed to herself. He may as well have been holding a bra, the way he reacted. Goober.
The heat clung to her as she stepped from the building, and she missed the air conditioning. Evan stood in a small alcove. It was surprisingly quiet here, the only person a man sweeping leaves from the brick path. Evan waved for her to lead off down the path, so she did. Only when they were facing the never ending flow of humanity once more did she ask, “Where to now?”
Evan glanced at his watch. “If we hustle, we'll make the last show at Shamu Stadium.” He pointed off to their left.
“You know, for this being Paul's idea, you sure seem to have everything memorized,” she called, hurrying to walk beside him. “You haven't even looked at the map they gave you at the entrance.”
Evan shrugged, glanced at her, then turned his attention forward once more. He dodged out of the way, reflexively, just as a woman would have brushed against him. “I've gotta do something while you sleep the day away.”
“So you memorized Paul's birthday present?” she prodded. He remained mute.
It was pointless to carry on a conversation with herself, so Integrity fell silent and focused on keeping up with Evan. While he was oblivious to his surroundings, Integrity began to notice that people either avoided him, almost instinctively, or stared after him, talking to their companions in hushed voices. She would have found it funny, except that she may as well have been invisible—no one watched her, no one even cared enough to avoid her. She was getting mighty sick of being jostled constantly.
The sun was lowering in the sky, though it was far from setting. She was growing weary from the constant pace of the day, but all of that fled as soon as she stepped into Shamu Stadium. It was far larger than any of the other arenas, and she couldn't help but look for her first glimpse of a whale, even though she knew they would all be tucked safely away prior to the show.
Suddenly feeling the regret that the day was drawing to a close, Integrity hesitated at the base of a long flight of stairs. “Oh, can't we sit in the splash zone?” she begged, suddenly desperate to be soaked by a whale.
Evan stopped, turned slowly, at looked at her in disbelief. “Are you serious? You want to be splashed?”
“You can't go to Sea World and not sit in the splash zone.” She reached toward his arm, but he shifted subtly, causing her to drop her hand back to her side. “Please?” she begged, dragging the word out. “It is my birthday,” she cajoled.
Evan sighed gustily. “I have absolutely no need to get drenched. Besides...” He trailed off, looking meaningfully at the tank behind her. “You want to see the regular show, don't you? Not something less...family friendly?”
She frowned, unable to argue with that. “Fine, let's go sit in the nose bleeds,” she groused. Evan turned and led the way up to the very last row, then slid onto the bench. Integrity dropped beside him. “Do we really have to be on the very last row?” she asked, feeling conspicuous as other patrons filled in the middle rows.
Without looking at her, Evan responded, “Do you remember the whole polar bear, predator discussion? I don't think it would go unnoticed if Shamu squashed the first ten rows trying to get to me.”
Integrity grumbled to herself, leaned back against the retaining wall behind them, and crossed her arms over her chest. She began to watch the info reel that was rolling across a massive screen, set back from the water. The stadium continued to fill, people rushing in by the hundreds.
Finally, dramatic music was piped out over the waiting crowd, and the noise level dropped markedly. Integrity looked eagerly at the water, hoping to see a whale swim out, deep below the surface, but the film that began kept dragging her attention back. She got so pulled in, that she forgot to watch the water at all. When Evan nudged her foot with his own, she waved him off. He hissed in her ear, “Do you want to get wet, or not?”
Unable to drag her attention from the screen, she nodded at him. He hissed into her ear that she could descend to a specific seat, fairly isolated, nearer the water, but that she was not to leave there under any circumstances until he came to collect her. With a hasty, “Thanks,” she scuttled down their deserted row, then descended until she was roughly level with the water, still watching the movie. As she sat, a massive killer whale arced silently from the water, then dropped gracefully back in. Tears sprang to her eyes. The show had begun.
Є
When the show had ended, Evan had been at her side almost instantly and had rushed her from the stadium and the park. At first, she had been upset at his inconsiderate behavior, but by the time they were on the freeway, humming along back to the hotel, she was too tired to care. She fell silent, staring blankly out of her window. After a few minutes, Evan said, “Man, if I'd known all it would take to shut you up was a trip to Sea World, I would have built one at Westmarch a year ago.”
Integrity stuck her tongue out at him. “You're just jealous because you didn't sit in the splash zone.”
“Ah, yes, you've caught me,” he replied, mock seriously. “I so desperately want to be caked in salt and shivering in ninety-degree heat because there's not an inch of me that's dry. Darn, I hate being so transparent.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” She fell silent again, reliving the day, then said, “Thanks for taking me.”
“It was Paul's idea,” he replied, a little too quickly.
“Yeah, but Paul didn't take me. Thanks, Evan.”
“Quit thanking me for his gift.” She knew he was trying to sound joking, but there was something in his voice that was almost angry. He paused a moment, then said, “My present is still to come.”
Integrity flipped from shocked, to excited, to apprehensive, in a nanosecond. “Oh?” she asked, noncommittally. When he didn't elaborate, she asked, “A full-frontal lobotomy? An hour being stretched on the rack? NASCAR?”
Evan pulled smoothly into the hotel's entrance, then slid into a parking space. “Nothing quite so nice, I'm afraid.” They both stepped from the car, Integrity looking over the roof so she wouldn't miss a word. Evan slammed his door, then walked to the stairs and up them without a backward glance. Integrity scuttled along behind him.
Evan was just pulling the key card from its slot as Integrity drew level with the door. He held it open for her, though did not look at her, then locked it securely behind them. Unexpectedly, he walked into her room, then returned with a box in hand. He shoved it at her, told her to get cleaned up, then moved out to the balcony once more, pulling a disposable cell phone from his pocket as his did so. She'd wondered briefly why he'd purchased such a cheap phone, but had decided he didn't want anyone to be able to contact, or trace, him. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, bit her lower lip, then shrugged and walked into the bathroom.
It was certainly odd to get herself ready for something that required the formal gown Evan had handed her. She was used to a whole team of women m
aking her look disturbingly unlike herself, while she sat stiffly and tried not to think about what might be lurking ahead of her. Now she was all alone with those same concerns, and she felt woefully inept in the makeup and hair department. She felt her stomach clench in nausea as the material of her gown slid into place; it reminded her far too clearly of life at Westmarch, particularly when she had to put herself on display for the residents at her “coming out” party. Goosebumps broke out over her arms, and she rubbed at them viciously.
Stepping quickly across the space between the bathroom and her bedroom, dreading the moment when Evan would see her, she opened several shoe boxes before she found a pair of strappy heels she assumed were meant to go with the dress. She put them on, her fingers fumbling with the tiny clasps, then stood and smoothed her dress. Her hands felt cold. Do I want him to say something, or not? she fretted. I don't want compliments, especially when I know I don't deserve any, but if he doesn't say anything at all, doesn't that mean that I look bad enough I shouldn't even go out in public?
Doing her best to steel herself, she straightened her spine, stepped toward the closed door, and promptly staggered as her foot twisted under her. Feeling herself blushing, even though she was alone, she said a prayer of gratitude for small miracles that she hadn't injured herself, reminded herself that she was in heels, not sneakers, and strode to the door once more. She pulled it open, stepped through, and forgot how to breathe.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Evan was wearing a full tuxedo, the picture of perfect poise and calm. She'd seen him often enough in a suit, but he always managed to somehow mock the suit--untucking his shirt, forgetting a tie, rolling the sleeves. But Evan in a tux, including a vest and bow tie, was so unexpected as to be completely disarming. He looked so unlike himself she felt as though she were standing in front of a stranger.
“Mind closing your mouth?” he asked, fiddling with an app on his phone. “I have no desire to see the scars where they removed your tonsils.”
Evan: Book Two of the Destine Series Page 21