by Quinn Loftis
“Mica, stop, I’m fine. It’s a scratch,” I said, struggling to sit up on the rocks. I showed him the roughened skin on my shoulder that was nothing worse than a surfing thrash. Looking into his identical silver eyes, I clicked to convince him I wasn’t the one who needed help.
The dolphin wriggled on the rocks next to me, chirping, clicking and whistling in a very stressed-sounding tone. The dolphins who answered her calls followed her out of the water and on to the beach. Everyone who had completed the swim, as well as those waiting on land for the party, worked furiously to get them off the black lava sand that tended to scratch skin.
Getting each dolphin back in the water meant lifting at least four hundred pounds of struggling muscle, turning them around and carrying them until the bay was deep enough for them to swim. It was noisy and terrifying, but the other dolphins were getting the help they needed, so I gave all of my attention to the one beside me.
“Guys, help me with her, please!” I said to Blake and Mica, putting my arms around her in order to prevent her from hurting herself more. Though her skin felt like the sturdy rubber of a wet suit, I saw from the scrapes already on her that it was as sensitive as mine.
“On three,” Mica said. He and Blake had moved on either side of the dolphin and had wedged their arms underneath her body to protect her from the scraggy surface as we pushed her back into the sea.
We carried her until we were waist deep, releasing her as soon as it was possible. Then, we all collapsed in the water, reeling from the stress of so many dolphins beaching on the sand at once. She took a second to nuzzle us, showing gratitude. But we couldn’t stay in the happy moment for long. We needed to help the other dolphins, whose clicks and whistles had gone from playful to stressed; the ones safe in the water, as well as those stuck on the sand.
Now that I was practically on top of her, I realized she was a rare albino dolphin, not just a light-skinned one. The albino swam away from the rocks, calling the other dolphins towards her and out to sea. The ones who could turn, did so and followed, leaving twenty or so gray animals struggling in the shallows. Moving as quickly as possible, I ignored my own pain and ran to the others with Blake and Mica. We worked with everyone on the beach to turn the rest of the dolphins and get them back in to the ocean; happy when they finally moved to a deeper, safer part of the sea.
Before swimming from sight, the albino turned, eyeing me just like Mica had done, as if to check that I was okay. Seemingly satisfied, she turned and went to the open ocean with her pod. I trudged onto the beach, elated that we had managed to save them all, but exhausted and confused too.
Moments later, surrounded by concerned partygoers, I sat on a bench and bit my lip to keep from crying. The scrape on my shoulder didn’t hurt when it had happened, but it sure burned during a thorough cleaning with peroxide. Billy produced a first-aid kit and used the lights on the golfie to see the damage. When I could no longer hold back the tears, Celeste pushed her way in and applied the liquid bandage herself.
“Epic First Night, huh?” Mica joked, attempting to break the tension. He looked over at Billy for confirmation. I didn’t noticed when I first saw Billy that day, but Blake and Mica had both grown taller than him since the last time Billy had been home.
“I’d say. You have mad dolphin calling skills, Cami,” Billy said, giving me a gentle fist bump while Celeste continued to cover the scratches on my back.
“Well, yeah, as long as the dolphins—and Cami—are fine,” said Blake, eyes flashing to mine in the firelight.
“Not totally fine,” I said, flicking my red plastic cup to make the point.
“Boys, I think Cami needs another beer,” Celeste interrupted, “and so do I.” I giggled nervously. I wasn’t much of a beer drinker, and neither were the boys. But it was a bit of a tradition on first night, and after everything that had happened with Blake, I needed the liquid courage.
Mica and Blake fell over each other moving towards the keg with Billy, while they talked about the crazy speed and size of the pod that had joined us for the swim. Celeste finished bandaging and went from serious caretaker to giggly fangirl. “That was amazing!” she squealed, right into my ear.
With her russet curls bouncing with excitement, it was hard to remember Celeste was a serious research scientist.
“You mean embarrassing,” I said. “How am I ever going to make The Guard if some rocks and a foot of water almost made me drown?”
“Cami, that was hardly a drowning. What happened out there??”
“I’m not sure. As soon as I dove in, I got carried up in their wakes, or something that felt like it,” I guessed, remembering the feeling of the albino dolphin moving me through the waves.
“You were in a slipstream?” Celeste asked, giddy with impressed surprise.
I smiled. “I think so, if that’s what it’s called when they carry you along.”
“Wow, that’s how moms carry their calves in the water before they can swim fast enough to keep up. I can’t believe so many of them came—and then beached. And, then we got them all back in the water so fast! Why did you swim up on the rocks, anyway?” Celeste looked at me with concern.
I paused, furrowing my forehead, considering her question. “I guess I got turned in the wrong direction? I don’t remember much, except that I didn’t want to come up for air and leave the slip stream.”
“Maybe you passed out under water?” she asked, looking concerned. “Either way, that albino saved you. Isn’t that a sign of fortune, according to the Island legends?”
I nodded. Just spotting an albino was considered very good luck, but being rescued by one? I couldn’t begin to imagine what the Elders would interpret that to mean. Many of the Elders worshipped the sea, instead of one of the more typical American religions. If they couldn’t see it, they didn’t believe it. My grandparents were the opposite. Everything was a sign, a feeling; open to interpretation based on many silent factors that only they understood.
“Definitely a good omen for a great summer,” I said, feeling optimistic in spite of the pain.
“That made my summer and it’s only solstice,” Celeste said dreamily, sounding more like a little kid who’d spotted a unicorn than a research scientist.
“Seeing that dolphin? Don’t you work with them, like all day and every day?” I asked.
“Yes, but that one’s an anomaly. Some scientists can’t handle them, because they mess up statistics, but I love the unusual ones. And that’s the first albino I’ve ever seen. In case it’s the last, I want to enjoy it. Have you ever seen her before?”
I shrugged, thinking back to my childhood. “When I was little, an albino used to come up to our docks with her pod. I don't know if it's the same one or not, but when we were six, they passed a law to prevent people from feeding the dolphins. They felt like we were being mean and they didn’t understand, and they stopped coming.”
“There was some concern they were forgetting how to hunt and, instead, learning to beg for food, which wasn’t good for them,” Celeste explained. “Let’s chalk it up to a magical First Night that leads to a whole bunch of Surf Carnival wins. And that kiss with Blake,” she said, switching gears, “was beyond amazing!”
“You saw that?” I said, cringing. “He was going to give me mouth-to-mouth, and I kissed him. I’m such an idiot.” I pulled my knees up and covered my face in them to hide the blush on my skin.
“That may have been his, ‘I’m Blake, I’m so responsible’ plan. Or… what if the CPR thing was just an excuse?” Her eyes twinkled, but I felt confused.
“He would have done the same thing for anyone,” I said, still blushing.
“You’re kidding, right?” Celeste laughed, in the way older girls with boyfriends could—like they knew something we didn’t. “Cami, haven’t you noticed the way he stares at you?” she said, stroking my hair.
“No, you’re wrong,” I said, insistent. “He didn’t initiate it at all. He wouldn’t. That’s just not what we’re like.
There’s zero attraction there,” I explained, the words sounding false even to my own ears. “He’s always with Mica…which makes him practically my brother…like our third twin. I doubt he even sees me as a girl. In any event, I’m not interested in someone my family decided I should be with before I was even a person. It’s a trap. He’s a trap. And someday I want to leave Pinhold, see a bit of the world.”
“A six-foot-four, blond trap that frequently practices chivalry,” she pointed out. “Sounds like a trap I would gladly fall in.”
“You have Billy, and you’re choosing to be here. As soon as I can, I’m going to choose to leave.”
“But wasn’t that ceremony about you joining The Guard?” she asked cautiously, looking over her shoulder to make sure no one heard her prying.
“Yes, well, family expectations are tricky things. Besides, that was mostly dedicating myself to the ocean. And I can say yes to that without joining anything officially. Yet.”
“Got it. Enough,” she whispered. And I heard the boys coming back. I wondered if my speech had convinced her because I hadn’t convinced myself. About Blake or The Guard. The Guard I could still take or leave, but there was nothing neutral about how I felt when I looked at Blake.
I flirted, laughed, danced, and drank until the beer didn’t taste terrible anymore. This was a night to forget about training and celebrate. I’d have the whole rest of the summer to make up for it. Even the Elders stayed and had a beer or two, but they’d left after a half hour or so. Everyone left was closer to my age, and they were in no hurry to leave. Blown away by the evening’s events, I needed to let the energy out too.
Since I’d never made it past a sip or two before, I’d been buzzed since the first cup of beer. After the second, I got dizzy, giggling and dancing around, passing out sticks and marshmallows. Blake watched me move around the circle. I saved him for last, because I felt embarrassed about what I’d done on the rocks, and I wasn’t sure what to say to him. I handed him the last stick and nudged him over to the fire.
“Um, Cami, isn’t this stick a bit short? Are you trying to set me on fire?” he asked, smiling and flashing dimples in the amber glow. My jaw dropped at his choice of words because they had a few very different meanings, given what just occurred.
I gave myself a mental whack in the head and though back to what Celeste had said. Blake was flirting with me, and I just stood there silently, frozen, and possibly drooling. I needed to get it together.
I smiled back, glad the night hid the blush on my cheeks from the thoughts he’d put into my head with just that one comment.
“Maaaybeeee,” I said, drawing out the word because let’s face it; I was so flustered I was lucky to come up with one. I took the stick back, pulled three marshmallows from the bag, and pushed them down one at a time.
I walked around to the other side of the bonfire, where only a couple of people sat. I reached my arm toward the flame, stumbling, and the marshmallows went directly into the fire, the flames way too close to my hand. Blake grabbed me immediately, and pulled me away, rescuing me again.
“Death wish tonight, Cami?” he asked, blowing out the charred treats. He ran his fingers over my arm to make sure it wasn’t burned and I held my breath until he finished. My skin was just a little warm from the brush with fire, but it had gotten positively hot by the time his inspection was done. I pouted and licked my lips., looking longingly at the stick. “Fine,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Let’s go get another.”
He turned back to the edge of the clearing. I recovered my beer and followed him to the tree line, still holding the short stick with the blackened marshmallows in my other hand. He’d pulled a thin sapling from a low hanging branch, and was stripping the leaves quickly, but not fast enough for me.
Too impatient to wait, I took a bite from what I had, pulling my lips away when they burned. To cool my mouth down, I sipped from the cup in my hand, and tried not to make a face at the comment. “Beer and burnt marshmallows? Two great things that aren’t great together.” He laughed, taking the cup from my hand.
“They are, actually,” I said, licking a bit of sticky white stuff off the right side of my mouth. He watched me intently, his look even sweeter than the candy.
“Try it,” I offered, stepping forward and putting the stick to his lips. He leaned in, closed his eyes, tilted his head, and touched his lips to the same exact place where mine had been.
I breathed in, smelling the smoke from the fire in between us and enjoying the moment. Until he squinted his eyes, pursed his mouth, shook his head, and totally broke my trance.
“Way too burnt,” he said, scratching his tongue on his teeth to get rid of the taste. I loved the way he touched my face as I leaned toward him. His eyes changed again, as he stared right at me, running his fingers down my cheek, then my neck. His thumb passed over my collarbone, and then slowly, so slowly, he gripped my neck, right under my ear where I’d gotten hurt a few hours before. I closed my eyes; hopeful he would kiss me again. Burning with anticipation, and buzzing from beer, I felt no pain. Then, he stroked the skin behind my ear.
“Ouch,” I protested, before I could stop myself.
Acting quickly, I leaned up and kissed him, distracting from the worry that had crossed his face. When our lips parted, he looked more shocked and concerned than turned on. Crisis averted, I sent a silent thank you to the Universe and hoped my cut would take care of itself
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Thank you for reading this sample of CLICKS and to Quinn Loftis for sharing it.
The sequel, ECHOES, comes out June 2014.
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