by Zoey Castile
“Best two weeks of my life.” Ali Matsuma drew me cute little cards. She dumped a milk carton over my head when she found out I was also getting Valentine’s cards from half of the class. “Your point?”
“My point is that you don’t know what you want, but you want her.”
“But I’m not moving to New Orleans.”
“Robyn never thought she’d move to Boston.”
I groan. “That’s different. She’s going to school there. You’re engaged. I’m not getting engaged. Marriage doesn’t work.”
“Nice.”
“You know what I mean.” Fallon knows how I feel about my father. Everything he did to my mom. Stole her light. I don’t want to think about that anymore.
“What do you want to hear?”
“I want to hear that I should enjoy the time I have with her.”
“Even if it means staying an extra week?”
“Ginny’s coming back on Friday. We check out the next day. I’ll get another room. It’ll be a clean break.”
Fallon makes a thinking sound. “Here’s an idea. Cancel your contract with Ginny.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Rent money? Do you know what I do for a living?”
“If you say you like this girl and you’re actually going to stay a stretch, then man up and do the right thing. Get a tux. Go to this ball. Move out of that penthouse and get your own place. Be honest with her. I know what it means to lie to people, bro. You’re just going to hurt her.”
“I don’t want to hurt her.”
“Not to drop another bomb on you, but I spoke to Ricky again. They’re hitting the road today.”
I cut him off. “I can’t deal with that right now.”
“If you say so.” Fallon’s quiet for a little bit. “How’s that hotel? The Sucré.”
“Touristy but swank. Why?”
“No reason.”
He does that sometimes. Changes the subject by making a hard left. “Okay, I have to go.”
“To go to your swamp tour.”
I squeeze the bridge of my nose. “It’s important to her.”
“You’re catching feelings, little bro.”
“You’re going to catch my fist if you keep with that.”
“Pfft. I’d like to see you try. And remember what I said. Seriously.”
I sigh, but he can’t see me shake my head. “Give my love to Robyn.”
That call was supposed to help me figure out what to do. I know Fallon is right. I have to be honest with Faith. I will be. That’s the only way I should keep seeing her.
I don’t want to hurt her, and now that I know who she is, everything about me could do that.
“After the swamp,” I tell myself. I repeat it over and over until I make myself believe it.
FAITH
Aiden in the daylight is a startling sight.
His pale gray T-shirt hugs his torso like a second skin, and the gym shorts he chose are better suited for a stroll down a South Beach street than the Quarter.
Underneath all of that muscle dripping of sex is someone nervous. Sweet. Insecure.
I don’t know if that’s why I invited him to the swamp.
There is nothing sexy about a swamp. But after yesterday’s full-on passive-aggressive wars, my skin feels so tight I might shed it. Mom and I have played the silent-treatment game for years. I’m always the one who relents because I don’t want her to be mad at me. It’s a good thing my week off from the campaign will give me some reprieve.
When Aiden gets in my car, my mood already feels lighter. He leans in and kisses my cheek, and warmth spreads down my neck.
“Ready to go?”
And he says, “I’m yours for the day.”
* * *
We drive for about an hour outside the city with the windows down and music playing from the radio.
“I’m not knocking your choice of activity,” Aiden says. He leans his face to the warm air. “But you don’t exactly look like the outdoorsy type. Not when I first met you.”
I pretend to be affronted with a wink. “I’m glad I exude city slicker. When I was about thirteen my mom caught me kissing the neighbor in the treehouse behind our backyard.”
“Scandalous.”
“For real. To this day I’m not even sure if she told my dad. I think she was afraid I was going to be one of those girls—”
“Independent?”
My laugh is dry. “A pregnant teen whose boyfriend leaves her and then her parents are stuck taking care of her.”
“Not all teen pregnancies go like that,” he says, and I feel bad for my snap judgment. “Not all families feel stuck, either. But I think I get your mom’s reaction. My mom couldn’t even talk about sex. She made my tía Ceci do it. Gave me my first condoms even though I wasn’t having sex yet.”
“Late bloomer?” I glance at him.
“Yeah, but I was a fast learner.” His light-brown eyes flick down to my lips. I shake myself out of the trance that starts when we look at each other. Especially because I’m the one driving. Am I the only one feeling this? I can’t be.
“Anyway,” I say. “My mom sent me to this summer camp in the swamp.”
“I do not do sleeping on the ground.”
“Neither do we!” I laugh. “There were only three Black girls there and the only reason was because they had to do it or take Earth Science at summer school for twice as long. But I don’t know. There’s something calming and strange about the swamp. My nana used to tell me stories of witches and mermaids that lived in there along with the gators and fish.”
“What did you have to do at this camp?”
I put on my turn signal as the signs for Bayou Sauvage National Wildlife Refuge come into view. “The camp was part of the conservation center, so we helped the park rangers mostly. Collected water samples to test for pollution. Nursed baby ducks who lost their mothers. Tried to protect alligator eggs from being snatched by people.”
“People do that?”
“Yup. The first three days were terrible. I wanted to leave. My arms were swollen with mosquito bites. I was certain I had yellow fever.”
“What changed?”
I pull into the parking lot. “It’s silly. I was tricked. This camp counselor gave me the job of taking care of these ducklings that had gotten sick because of the dumping of waste. They were so cute, I couldn’t resist. That was when I felt, I don’t know, responsibility.”
“For the ducks?”
“For the ducks and this land.”
“I guess it was a good thing that you got caught.” He looks at me. We sit in the car for a minute that stretches like molasses. “That kiss was fate.”
I know, in this moment, that he’s thinking about kissing me. I want to. More than I can admit to myself. But that’s the thing about the days after the morning after—it makes us second-guess. Overthink.
I clear my throat. “Come. I know a guy.”
AIDEN
“I know a guy,” she says.
It’s the thing that pulls me out of the daze. All this talk of kissing and swamps and endangered ducks isn’t exactly the setup to the most romantic date I’ve ever had. But I wouldn’t rather be anywhere else. It sure beats wandering around the puke-scented streets of the Quarter by myself.
Faith walks ahead of me. My heart does a hard pitter-patter with the way she walks. Her black and blue workout pants shape her sexy-ass curves.
I can’t touch her. We’re not there yet. But damn, I can dream about wrapping my arms around her waist. Feeling the softness of her belly, the smooth skin of her thighs. That little sigh she made just before she came.
The sharp call of an animal snaps me from my reverie. Faith looks over her shoulder. “That’s just a heron.”
I laugh nervously. “Sorry, I’ve never been to a swamp. I don’t think I’ve ever even been to a national park. The only outdoors I ever did was soccer in Flushing Meadows with my uncles.”
She extends her h
and for me to take. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”
I take her hand in mine, and even though it’s smaller and softer, it feels secure. “We’re not petting alligators, are we?”
She laughs, a real belly laugh. “What in the world makes you think that? Do you want to lose a hand?”
“Faith!” an older blond woman calls from a log cabin. It says PARK ENTRANCE. “Isn’t this a surprise! We haven’t seen you in so long. Blue Bill’s really missed you.”
“Blue Bill?” I ask.
Faith leans into me and says, “You’ll meet him in a bit. Gladys, this is my friend Aiden. He’s from New York City.”
“New York City!” The woman’s sunburnt cheeks brighten with a smile. She holds her hand out to shake mine, but I pull her into a hug.
“Sorry, I’m Colombian. We hug.”
“Hoo boy. That’s the most action I’ve seen in ages. Whatever brings you to these parts, Aiden?” She pats my arms, eyes wide at my muscles.
Faith is trying to hold back her laugh.
I glance at Faith. “Just exploring a bit. Faith kindly offered to show me a bit of the less touristy places.”
“No one loves this place the way Faith does. It’s a right shame she left us to—”
Faith cuts the woman off quickly. “Enough of that, lady. He didn’t come to get my life story.”
Gladys looks me up and down and makes a face. “Sure looks like it to me.”
“Maybe Gladys should be my tour guide,” I say, slinging my arm around the old woman.
Faith throws her hands up. “Fine. But she’ll make you clean out the gator cages.”
I must have a stricken look on my face, because the pair of them fall into laughter.
“Ha ha, laugh at the tourist.”
For the first time I realize that there is a group of teenagers inside the log cabin. Some of them are watching us, and others are busy on the computer or going through papers.
“Mind the registry, Annie,” Gladys says. “I’m taking out the Jaguar for our city guest here.”
Faith takes my hand again and starts leading me deeper into the swamp.
“Wait, like a car?”
FAITH
This boy really just asked me if we’re going in a car. I start cracking up despite myself. His tan skin has a sweet red blush on his neck. I think about kissing it and leaving marks. The thought startles me because it feels so raw and aggressive.
He squeezes my hand and tugs me to him. “I love it when you laugh like that.”
“Keep throwing those lines at me,” I tell him. But I love those lines.
We hop into an airboat, and Aiden’s wide-eyed response to the metal contraption is priceless.
“Scared?” I ask him.
“Are you kidding? When I spent summers in Colombia, my grandfather used to take me on the river. It was a literal raft. Almost lost a foot to piranhas.”
“I thought you said you weren’t outdoorsy,” I say.
“That’s what happens when you almost get eaten by a school of tiny fish.”
“Don’t worry,” Gladys says. “Jaguar here’s safe as houses. I’ve taken her out for the last ten years.”
But Aiden’s stricken face tells me he’s not reassured at all. “Even houses fall down in the right circumstances.”
“You’re in the best hands. Gladys took me out my first time here.” I hand him a life jacket and then we’re off. Aiden sits beside me and Gladys steers. She knows every part of this swamp. She grew up only one county over and tells Aiden just as much.
“You were a bratty thing, Faith,” she says. “Wouldn’t wear a hat because she didn’t like the way it looked on her. Learned right quick that a neck and scalp sunburn’s nothing to joke about.”
With the hypnotic sound of the fan behind us, we glide across the water at an easy pace. Aiden seems to relax, though when our knees touch, he tenses once again. I can’t deny I feel the same knot in my belly.
Still, I have to defend my honor with Gladys. “I didn’t want to be here. All of my friends were vacationing in Disney World and I had to be getting water samples and spending hours doing nothing but watching a bunch of birds and keeping track of them. My parents’ friends never really understood why my dad cared so much about preserving national parks and lands.”
Aiden furrows his brow. “Why would they be surprised?”
“Because Black people weren’t allowed in parks for a long time in this country,” I explain.
“The feds made it official in 1945,” Gladys says. “Still, you can feel the impact even now.”
“But my dad’s favorite place is in the middle of nowhere,” I say. “If not for my mother, he’d move to the woods and chop his wood and have his bourbon and peace. She always tells me I’m just like him.”
Aiden nudges his knee against mine, the breeze playing with his hair.
“We all become our parents,” Gladys says as she steers.
Aiden scoffs lightly. “I sure hope not.”
“My daddy was a mean old fisherman. Lost his leg to a gator one year. They fought for their dominance of their little patch of water. My momma was a witch. She could hear the swamp speak to her. They passed on when I was young, but they gave me their love of the land. I’ve always preferred the wild to people.”
“Except me, right?” I grin at Gladys.
When she smiles, her slightly too-big teeth are on full display. “Of course. The summer program did you right. Showed you that there’s more to life than chasing a dream in a cubicle. Wish we could give the same opportunity to other kids, but with the budget cuts, the summer programs will go first.”
“Don’t you worry about that,” I tell her. “The fund-raiser will help.”
A white heron swoops down low, snatches a bird with its long beak.
“Holy shit,” Aiden says. “And I thought subway rats were savage.” Then he jumps back. “Holy shit. Is that an alligator?”
A massive gator breaks the water. “That’s Blue Bill.”
Aiden’s laugh is a little panicked, a little shocked, as the creature makes its way toward us. The snout snaps open and closes like a bear trap as it glides half-submerged in water.
Gladys does little to contain how much she loves to see people freak out. “Bill here hasn’t had a human yet. Don’t you worry your pretty head off.”
I see Aiden practically trying to convince himself that he needs to put on a brave face in front of me. This isn’t for everyone. Even Angie hasn’t let me bring her out here. She prefers her nature behind a thick wall of glass, where it won’t touch her skin or hair.
Gladys winks at me. She loves telling stories so much that I’m not even sure if she’s sure which ones truly happened and which are of her invention. I rest my hand on his back.
I’ve never seen someone fall into the water, except for Gladys, and I’m convinced she can actually talk to these creatures.
“My cousin Adriana had a pet snake,” he says.
“Yep, a snake and an alligator aren’t much different,” she says.
She knows that they are, but she’s using her teaching voice. The one that gets all patient and slow. When I was younger I used to think that it was patronizing. Now, I wouldn’t mind a little of that patience.
Aiden leans over quite a bit as Bill shimmies next to us. For a moment, he seems pretty pleased with himself, like he’s at a small farm petting zoo. Until the water breaks with a splash, and Gladys grips him by the sleeve and yanks him back away from Blue Bill’s reach. My scream is delayed, watching the creature nearly take off his whole arm.
“This almost never happens,” Gladys says by way of apology. Then she shouts, “Bill! We do not behave like that with company!”
“Holy shit,” he says, and when I hold his hands, a laugh shakes his body.
Gladys slaps Aiden’s back. “Keep all arms and legs inside of the ride at all times, darling. Now, let’s get you back before you lose that pretty head of yours.”
We t
ease him the whole way back, Aiden fully convinced that Gladys has the gators trained to jump on command. Gladys is only mildly affronted at being compared to “those SeaWorld ringmasters.”
Back at the ranger station, we try to wash off the stink of the muck, but no matter what, it lingers.
“Thanks for letting me take you on a weird date,” I say.
“It was the smelliest and most dangerous date I’ve ever been on,” he says, staring down at me like he wants to kiss me in the air-conditioned room lined with swamp facts and taxidermy. “There’s so much more to you than bourbon and fancy dresses. But I draw the line at camping.”
“Cross my heart,” I say. When Aiden looks at me the way he does now, it feels like my heart has grown feet and is tripping over itself.
We say good-bye to Gladys and promise to return.
As we drive with the windows down, he tells me about the time his grandfather took him out on a canoe in Colombia and one of his cousins almost drowned. He has a scar on his knee from a reed that cut him there.
Out here, with Aiden, my mind is unburdened. I don’t remember the last time my abs hurt from laughing out loud. I wonder if that’s why I’m clinging to him. Using him to forget my own problems. I wonder if that’s fair to him.
He did say he was only passing through, searching for his next step in life. It would be foolish to think that this can ever be more than a flirtation. And yet, when I park around the corner of his hotel, neither of us make a move to get out of the car. His eyes are bright. His lips are full.
That kiss was fate, he said earlier.
I don’t think I believe in fate.
I believe we make choices. We work for the things we want. Maybe it’s the same thing, only being called by a different name.
But we lean into each other. Lips brushing lips like the touch of feathers. My heart swells in my chest, and a hunger sparks in my belly. Want. Our kiss deepens, tongues searching for secrets and teeth nipping for more. I want so much more than his kiss.
Aiden pulls away first. “Can I see you tomorrow?”
I want to. I know I shouldn’t. “I can’t, there’s a banquet thing. I might not be working this week, but I have to show up as the daughter.”
