“Will you come?” he asks.
That nervous little crack in his voice almost undoes me. Almost.
“I don’t think so....” Pulling myself together, I start walking again, pushing ahead with swift strides, telling myself that this is the last time I’ll ever return to this pond. The last time I’ll ever see him.
The last time I’ll ever come so close to losing control.
4
I spend the rest of the day with Mom and Dad. We fish off the dock, and in the afternoon we take a trip to the small grocery store in town to get a few things for dinner. Mom wants fresh vegetables to go with the trout we caught. She watches closely as I talk to the cashier, her eyes sharp on me as I hand the woman money, thanking her and assuring her we don’t need help to the car.
She wants to see me to do this—she needs to see me do this. It’s the only way she can feel right about me taking my tour next summer. She needs to know I’ll be okay interacting with humans. I feel her smile of approval on me as we walk to the parking lot.
After we get home, I help unpack groceries, and then Mom suggests a swim while Dad starts dinner. She doesn’t need to offer me twice. I’m changed and out the door, practically running ahead of Mom, who trots after me holding our towels. For the next hour, I enjoy the water, enjoy being with Mom. As she swims alongside me, cutting through the water with swift strokes, it’s easy to remember that before she became my mother, she was one of the pride’s strongest athletes.
Even dinner is nice with just the three of us. Back home, we rarely eat alone. Dad’s students are always traipsing through the house. My friends, Jacinda. We’re never really alone in the pride.
After dinner, I stand at the sink, drying dishes like I’ve been set to slow motion, the buttery smell of broiled fish still heavy on the air.
“You feeling all right?” Mom asks, taking the skillet from my hands and putting it away. “Been quiet today.”
“Mm. Just tired.”
“Why don’t you go to bed early?”
I nod. “Yeah.” I finish up with the glasses.
“Maybe we can swim again tomorrow.” She searches my face. “You’d like that. Your father will even get into the water, too.”
I lift my eyebrows at that. “Really?”
“Sure. I’ll make him.” She flashes a grin that makes me shake my head.
Dad isn’t overly fond of the water. Ironic since his only child happens to be a water draki. And his wife is one of the few female onyx draki of the pride. Traditionally, they’re the foot soldiers of the pride, built for speed and strength. Naturally they’re great swimmers. They’re great at all the physical stuff.
I slide a look in the direction of the living room, where Dad is either reading or writing one of his lectures. “For you, I’m sure he will.”
One would assume Mom would have bonded with another onyx. Like herself. But no. She chose quiet, scholarly Dad. About as unathletic as you can get for a draki.
“Not for me. For you, honey. We know you love to swim.” She gives a small laugh. “An understatement, I know.” She inhales deeply. “We know you love it, but we just …” Her voice fades. She doesn’t say the rest, but I hear the words no less. They don’t trust me in the water out here, unsupervised.
Like I might do something risky. Something like yesterday. Or today, for that matter.
She takes the last glass from me. I lean forward and kiss her soft cheek. “That would be great, Mom.”
“Good night, Dad,” I call before taking the stairs to the second floor. He calls up a muffled response from the living room.
In my room, I close the door and fall back on the bed. The springs squeak under me. Clutching a pillow to my chest, I stare at the wallpaper of tiny pink rosettes. My bedroom back home is covered in posters of the beach. The ocean that I long to experience.
In less than a year, I’ll be old enough for my tour.
Not every draki chooses to take a tour. But I will. A year abroad, alone, away from family and the pride—on your own in the human world … not every draki is cut out for it. Sometimes it scares me. But I’ve been planning for this ever since I took my first swim as a water draki and fell in love with the water. There’s nothing like it. Gliding into a deep abyss where men can’t survive, can’t find me. Ever since I was twelve, I vowed that I would taste the ocean on my skin.
I’ve prepared my parents for the inevitability of my tour. It’s always been a rite of passage offered to any young draki … one way to guarantee that every new generation of draki is savvy in the way of humans and the outside world. It’s critical for our survival.
I think about all those posters in my room again. About my dreams of the ocean. About swimming in the vastness of an endless sea.
About leaving all I know behind to make that a reality.
Right now, not far away, a group of teenagers is partying beside a pond. How can I think I’m ready to embrace the adventure of the ocean, a tour all on my own, when I can’t even brave a little party? Just because a too-attractive boy stirs my draki?
Disgust curls through me. Jacinda wouldn’t shy from the challenge. Hopping from the bed, I move to the dresser. I unpacked all my clothes when we arrived, deciding against living out of a suitcase for an entire month.
With determination burning through my veins, I strip off my clothes and slip on a swimsuit. I pull a pair of denim shorts up my legs and then search for the right top … something appropriate for my first party among humans. Something that hopefully doesn’t scream outsider.
I settle on a silver-studded blue tank top. The stringy, yellow straps of my suit peek out beside the blue tank’s straps.
“It’s not a date,” I tell my reflection. I’m doing this to prove a point. Not because I want to see him again.
I snort. Even I don’t quite believe myself.
With a great exhale, I rummage around the top drawer of my dresser for a clip. Gathering my hair, I pile it in a haphazard arrangement atop my head.
Tendrils and wisps fall around my face and shoulders—both glossy black and bright blue. It’s the trademark of a water draki. I’m certain every human to cross my path thinks my hair is color-treated. There’s just no way to explain otherwise.
I hunt for the right earrings next and hook them into my earlobes. A pair of long silver drops, no thicker than threads, dangle to my jawline. A thin coat of lip gloss, and then I’m ready.
I stare at myself in the mirror, my blue eyes enormous, looking back at me as though seeing me for the first time … imagining how I might appear to Tate. Strange. Exotic. My pulse hammers against my neck. I take a deep breath and remind myself that this is an exercise in boldness. A test of my control. Not a seduction.
With a growl of frustration, I remove my earrings and fling them down. Exiting my room, I ease down the stairs, carefully avoiding the creaky step. I slip out the front door, hesitating on the wood porch, waiting to hear if Mom or Dad noticed me steal away. Nothing. No tread of feet after me. Not a sound.
Satisfied, I hop from the porch and head toward the pond, my heart as wild as gale-force winds.
I walk through the dark, the path memorized by now, concentrating on steadying my heart rate so that I look calm when I get there. So my draki stays put, buried in the core of me. So I can at least pretend to be one of them, just another teenage girl out for the night, looking for a good time. I exhale. Easier said than done.
I hear the music before I reach the pond. The bass pumps over the air and only heightens my nervousness. I actually try to channel Tamra. She would be in her element here.
I step from the tree line and hover there for a moment, watching the scene. I don’t suppose it counts as a big party: only approximately fifteen to twenty people. But plenty crowded for me. Some swim, splashing in the water between the shore and floating dock. I make out the outlines of two bodies on the platform. One guy shouts jubilantly as he flips wildly into the dark water. I guess Anna’s close call didn’t spook anyone
.
At least six or seven vehicles are parked at the edge of the clearing, leaving enough room for the partygoers to mingle and socialize around a bonfire. I recognize Tate’s Jeep and know he’s here somewhere.
I dig my hands into my pockets as my eyes search for him. A few people lounge on blankets. The fire burns inside a circle of rocks, imbuing the air with a warm glow. A pair of girls hold marshmallows on long sticks over the flames. The rich, pungent smell of smoking wood fills my nose.
I start to feel curious stares on me, but still no sight of Tate. One of the girls at the fire elbows her companion and juts her chin toward me.
Uncomfortable, I start to back away, ready to head home, when he’s suddenly there, emerging from the water.
Everything inside me freezes. He tosses his head and runs his fingers through his dark hair, sending it into wild spikes all around his head. I watch, mesmerized, my vision sharpening at the way the water sluices down his hard chest.
“Hey!” he calls out, attracting the attention of all his friends. He snatches a beach towel from the ground and covers the distance between us in just a few strides.
I blink, shaking off the spell. It’s not as though I’ve never seen a hot boy before. Cassian, even Corbin, jerk that he is …
Almost every draki boy I know is attractive. It’s just that none of them ever really seems to see me. Not like the guy making his way over to me now. None of them ever asked me to go anywhere with them … or uttered please like it meant so much.
I cross my arms, hugging myself tightly as he stops in front of me. I have to tilt my head back to look up at him. This close, I realize how tall he is.
A slow smile spreads across his face as he meets my eyes. “You came.”
My belly flutters and flips at his overjoyed tone. “You invited me.”
“Yeah, but you were in a pretty big rush to get away.” His smile quirks sideways, making him even more appealing. As if that’s possible.
“Hey, Tate.” A guy approaches behind him. I recognize him from yesterday. Troy. He held the other girl as Tate gave CPR to Anna. “Who’s your friend?”
Tate leans in, positioning his face closer to mine.
My breath catches and immediately my skin quivers. It takes everything in me to fight the reaction and quiet my draki.
“Uh, gonna cut me a break here? Do I at least get the name of the girl I invited here tonight?”
I can’t help it. I smile. “Az.”
“Az,” he repeats, testing the name, his melting brown eyes holding mine.
“Yeah.”
“I like it.” His gaze skims me—really quick. Like he doesn’t want to be obvious about checking me out. “It suits you.”
Turning, he drops a hand on my arm, pulling me with him. It’s not just Troy waiting anymore, but a group.
“This is Az. She’s the one who pulled Anna out of the water yesterday.”
I’m greeted with various hellos. It’s hard to focus on all the faces, though, with the tingles Tate’s warm hand sends through me. A deep purr builds inside me, responding to the contact.
“That was you?” Troy asks, looking from Tate to me. “Dude, you’re a hero.”
My smile widens, certain this is the first time I’ve ever been addressed as dude.
He continues. “We couldn’t see her. How’d you find her down there?”
My smile slips, unsure how to respond.
Another girl walks up, wringing her wet hair out. Her gaze sharpens on me. “Who’s this?”
Tate waves at me. “Remember Az? She’s the one who pulled Anna out of the water yesterday.”
She stops and drops her hands from her hair. Straightening, she looks me up and down. “Oh. Yeah. Right.” She says this slowly, like she doesn’t remember me at all. Not surprising. She was busy crying over Anna. Unlike everyone else, however, gratitude doesn’t fill her eyes.
She props her hands on her hips. “How’d you find this place? You’re not from around here.”
Her meaning comes across clearly. This place is for them. I’m the outsider who stumbled upon their sanctuary. I should have hit the lake like all the rest of the tourists, but instead I ended up here.
“I was just exploring … looking around when I stumbled across it.”
“Hm.” She nods, eyeing me. “Nice hair.”
Of course, she means the opposite. I see it in her eyes, as sharp as cut emeralds. The boys don’t pick up on it, but I do. The pride is full of its own cliques. A definite social hierarchy exists based on talents, on family position. I’m not at the bottom of the social ladder back home, but neither am I at the top. I know the veiled insult well.
“Thanks,” I reply, fingering a blue strand and pretending I don’t pick up on what she’s doing.
“Where are you from?”
“Wyoming,” I lie, starting to feel like this is an interview. It’s the answer I’m supposed to give. In this small town, it’s doubtful anyone has been there or knows enough about the place to contradict me.
She nods slowly, a smile forming on her face. “Here on vacation?” she asks.
“What’s with the third degree, Hailey?” Troy asks, smiling, but there’s annoyance in his expression.
“Yes,” I answer.
“For how long?”
“A month.”
Her gaze slides to Tate. “Such a shame. That’s not long.” It’s like she wants him to realize that.
Then I get it. She likes Tate. I look back and forth between them. I don’t think they’re together. The body language isn’t there for that. He stands too far apart from her. And he’s hardly glanced at her since she walked up. A good boyfriend wouldn’t do that. And for some totally unsubstantiated reason, I think he would be a good boyfriend. Maybe it’s just wishful thinking.
Tate frowns at her. “We’ll just have to make sure she has fun while she’s here.”
Hailey looks at him with a mild expression. “Is that our job now? To make sure the tourists have fun?”
Growing uncomfortable with the rising tension in the air, I exhale and ask Tate, “Is your sister all right?”
“Yeah. She got a concussion from hitting her head on the dock. No parties for her.” He gestures to our surroundings. “For a while anyway.”
I nod. “I’m glad she’s okay.”
“It’s a bummer, though!” Troy pinches his fingers together. “I almost had her. She was this close to going out with me. She practically said yes.”
“Practically.” Tate snorted. “You’ve been hounding her to go out with you since third grade.”
Troy shrugs. “That’s right. Why stop now? When you know you know, man. And I’ve always known your sister is the only one for me.”
An awkward moment of silence falls between the four of us. Troy looks at each of us in turn, relaxed, like he’s enjoying himself. Hailey looks like she just swallowed something bitter. And Tate … he just stares at me.
Then, as if reaching a sudden decision, he takes my hand and tugs me toward a cooler.
Following, I can’t resist looking over my shoulder. Troy watches us with a bemused expression. Hailey watches us, too—or me, rather—those sharp eyes of hers almost feral. She reminds me of the wild animals in the mountains back home. Except they always seemed less threatening.
I move my attention back to Tate. Not such a surprise. All my senses center on him … especially the feel of his hand clasping mine.
He lifts the cooler lid and gestures inside. “Drink?”
“Sure.” I inspect the contents for a moment.
“I think Troy’s got some stronger stuff in his cooler, if you prefer—”
“No. This is fine,” I say, grabbing an orange soda. I already feel slightly drunk in his presence.
He takes a can for himself and leads us toward the shoreline. We stand there for a moment, staring out at the water. Distant swimmers whoop as they vault off the dock. The voices behind us are low, small murmurings on the air. The music, too, ju
st fades to dull background noise.
His head turns and he stares down at me. His eyes glitter in the night. The shadow of a smile curves his mouth.
And I can’t help it. I relish this moment with him. Then I feel guilty for that. For reveling in the way I feel around him. I should have butterflies in my stomach for a draki boy. Not for him.
His gaze dips, and it’s clear he’s staring down at our hands. Almost as though he didn’t realize he was holding on to me until this very moment.
My face heats. Five minutes ago I told him my name. Now we’re acting like a couple.
He drops my hand and lowers himself to a towel. I pause. And then join him, leaving a good foot between us. Even not touching, the warmth of his skin radiates toward me.
The dark water moves gently, lapping at the gravelly shore. I feel his gaze on my face again.
He clears his throat. “I don’t know how you came to be there like that yesterday.” He waves at the water. “I’m just glad you were. My sister is all I’ve got. Since our mom died, it’s just been the two of us. My dad is around, but not really. Not like our mom was for us.” He pauses, then adds in a quieter voice, “You’ll never know what you did....”
I fidget and look down at my hands.
“I’m making you uncomfortable.”
“No,” I say quickly, looking back up at him.
“It’s okay.” He rises, waving me up. “C’mon. Let’s go for a swim.”
5
A swim with this boy might be the craziest, riskiest thing I ever do. The thought doesn’t scare me, though. My pulse leaps as I watch him step into the water. I hesitate a moment before pulling my tank top over my head and shimmying out of my shorts.
Looking back, he grins at me. Then he dives in.
I ease in, letting the water lick up my calves, thighs, waist. Instantly my pores contract and shiver. I float the rest of the way into the water, my hands fanning out in front of me, loving how the water makes way for me, opens for me like it’s been waiting for my return.
Beneath the fabric of my one-piece, my gills appear, safely hidden. It’s not something I can control, but I don’t worry about their appearance. Even if I was wearing a two-piece, he wouldn’t notice in the dark.
Breathless: A Firelight Novella (HarperTeen Impulse) Page 3