I slumped down. How to explain this?
“I’m a chicken,” I admitted. “I only said what popped into my brain so that I wouldn’t…”
I stopped myself. I was about to say something that I would regret, but fortunately I stopped myself before it came out. She probably thought that I didn’t want to kiss her when really I just didn’t want to barf on her.
“Really. I’m not very good at this… this…” I tried to think of what to call this. “This stuff.”
Oh man, I am lame!
She just sat there, an unbelieving expression on her face. “Oh really? So you said the first thing that popped into your head? Something that had to do with Ailey?” She looked at me with incredulous eyes.
“No. That’s not what I meant. Ailey and I are… nothing. We’re just friends. I don’t know how to explain it. I just get along with her really well. We just, I don’t know — connect — or something.”
“You connect? Or something.”
“I know, that sounds funny. But really, we’re just friends.”
“You’re right, it does sound funny.” She sat back, thinking; a scowl on her face. “But that’s okay. I like funny. Funny is — well, funny.”
I looked at her. “Really?”
“Sure. Really. It’s okay.” I looked at her, skeptical. “No really, it’s fine. I’m fine.”
She sighed and looked back down at the thread on the couch. She pulled her notebook back out and began copying notes from mine.
Things weren’t fine. The rest of the afternoon went flat. She stuck her nose in her book and notes and didn’t look up until an hour later. My attempts at conversation became one-sided. I wasn’t much for filling in the silence so most of the time I spent stiffly scratching on my paper.
My dad was walking up the drive as she was leaving.
“Oh hi,” he said, stopping her on the walkway. “I’m Tristen’s dad.”
She stopped and, being polite, introduced herself.
My dad looked at me, taking in my solemn face, he said, “So, would you like to stay for dinner? I’m sure we can manage to scrounge up something. Or just get a pizza…?”
She looked back up at me, standing in the doorway. “No, thanks. I really have to go home. I have to help my mom cook dinner for my brother and sisters. And some people from school invited me to hang out with them after dinner, too.”
“Oh okay. Well, maybe some other time.”
“Yeah, sure. Some other time.”
I felt like a deflated balloon.
Before she turned he lightly touched her shoulder. “Isolda,” he caught her eyes, “feel free to come back anytime. You’re always welcome here. And we’d love to get to know you. Tristen has told us so much about you, I almost feel like we know you already.”
“Dad,” I groaned.
“Oh. He has?” She looked surprised.
“Yes.” Then he hurriedly added, “But only in a cool way, you know?”
“Oh Dad, stop.” I was thoroughly embarrassed now; although it did seem to be working.
“Oh, okay,” she said but I swore I saw her blush a little in her cheeks. “Well, okay, thanks. I’ll see you some other time then.”
She walked down the drive and got into her car. It sputtered to life and she drove off without looking back.
“Dad!”
“What?” He looked at me plainly.
“What do you mean, ‘What’?”
“I mean what? Chicks dig that kind of stuff. Besides, by the look on your face, it seemed like you needed some help.”
“Well…maybe. But not that kind of help. She probably thinks I’m an idiot.”
“I told you,” he said. “Girls want to know that you like them. That way they don’t have to guess. And they like guys who aren’t insecure, guys who aren’t embarrassed to show their feelings. So take a chill pill, dude.”
“Nobody says dude anymore. Or chill pill either. Except for maybe Brooks. And what if she doesn’t like me, she’ll just think I’m creepy. Then she’ll feel weird around me and then she’ll never want to come back. And she’ll act… funny around me.”
“I hear ‘dude’ is coming back.” He smiled annoyingly.
“Ahh! Dad!”
“Tristen, she’s already been out with you once; on a double date. Then she still came over here, after your date. I think it’s time you get a clue, son. She wouldn’t have come if she wasn’t interested. And she told me she’d see me later.”
I sighed. “Dad, it’s not that easy. Maybe she just wanted to work on the project.”
“No, son. It is that easy.” He rolled his eyes. “I can’t believe I haven’t trained you for this. You and I have some hard-core lessons coming up. Oh well, we’ll work on that later. Now, let’s eat. I’m starving.”
He walked past me into the house to start dinner. I rolled my eyes and followed him in.
❦
The next day, when I got to school, people were already lined up to wait for the bus that was taking us to Onslow Bay. Mrs. Burdach was at the front of the line, trying to get everyone’s attention. I could see swimsuit straps underneath jackets.
“Okay,” she began, “the purpose of this trip is to compare specific culture techniques for a variety of marine species, with special emphasis on the Southeast US coast. Focus on the basic features of culture systems, biology of major culture species, and legal and economic aspects of Mariculture. Make sure to notice the basic principles of fish and shellfish production. And who knows, maybe we’ll see some Right Whales. Won’t that be exciting?”
She pushed up her tortoise glasses, looking around to get any responses from the crowd.
“I want to see a whale,” said a girl in front of me.
“Me too. That would be cool.”
Mrs. Burdach turned around as the school bus pulled up and climbed on. “Watch the step, watch the step.”
I stepped in line with Ailey and Brooks, who were already waiting. I looked around to search for Isolda. She finally walked up with Greg following her, talking about his trip to the Caribbean. She looked at me and waved a small wave. My heart beat faster.
Maybe I can make up for my screw up yesterday.
Then she went to the back of the line, all the while listening about Greg’s fishing trip. I looked above me and frowned at the cloudy weather, then turned to Ailey and Brooks.
“I thought Greg was with Heather.”
Ailey shrugged. “He broke up with her.”
“Yeah, I heard it was pretty nasty. Or rather, he was pretty nasty,” Brooks added. I scowled and climbed onto the bus.
When we pulled into the parking lot at the beach we all piled out of the bus. You could hear happy chatter as people rushed out onto the beach. Some, mostly girls, threw off their shirts and pants to reveal their swimsuits underneath. Squeals pierced the air as they waded into the chilly water.
“Don’t forget to write down your observations…” Mrs. Burdach yelled after us. I grumpily trailed behind Brooks and Ailey, suddenly feeling like a third wheel. They held hands as they collected shells and looked for other species hidden in the nooks and crannies. I really didn’t feel like being a third wheel today.
Man, how is it possible that I could screw up so royally in just one day? What is wrong with me?
I watched Brooks and Ailey out of the corner of my eye; they had drifted off ahead of me toward a tall rocky wall that jetted out into the water. He held her steady when big waves swept in, and when he found something interesting he offered it to her. I thought back to when he had joked about surfing during the trip; now his only focus was Ailey. I smiled to myself. Maybe I should copy Brooks, Ailey was pretty happy with him.
Other laughter caught my ear and I looked over to see Isolda wading deeper into the water. It was up to her thighs now and Greg was egging her on. I turned away from them and focused on my paper even though jealousy was burning in my stomach.
How did things get so complicated in such a short amount of tim
e?
Suddenly I heard a loud squeal. I whirled around, automatically searching for Isolda. She was swimming out in the waves and splashing Greg. Karen and Michelle, the girls I had seen in the line earlier, were pointing far out to the ocean. I looked out and could see a small black dot on the horizon. Then a small spurt of water sprayed out beside the small dot. A crowd gathered around to watch the dot.
“Is that a whale?” Michelle asked, looking at Mrs. Burdach.
“Why yes, that most certainly is. And look, it appears that she has her baby with her.” I could barely make out a tiny bump next to the bigger one. “They are called Right Whales, named by hunters who thought of them as the ‘right whales to hunt’ because their fat makes them float to them top when they died, making it easier to bring them back to the shore. They really are quite fascinating creatures; and endangered, too. Ship hulls or fishing nets are killing them off.”
“Why would anyone want to kill a whale?” Karen asked with sadness in her voice.
“Well, a long time ago the people who lived by the sea used them for food. Even today it can be considered a delicacy in some countries. It’s like asking why someone would kill a chicken these days,” Mrs. Burdach responded.
“Why would someone kill a chicken?” Karen retorted.
Michelle elbowed her. “Just because you don’t eat meat, doesn’t mean the rest of the populated world doesn’t have to. I bet you’d eat a chicken if you had nothing else to eat. Maybe these hunters had to kill whales to feed their families.”
“Well, still,” Karen pouted.
At the corner of my consciousness I could hear Greg yelling but I tried to push it away. I didn’t want to think about them right now.
His voice got louder and more insistent, “Isolda! Swim out. Swim out.”
Instinct told me that something wasn’t right. I turned to look at them, bracing for the burn, but instead I felt horror. Isolda was far out, desperately trying to swim in, but the sea was only pushing her out further. Without thinking, I dropped my pen and paper and rushed deeper into the water. Startled, the class turned to stare at me while I ran, and I could hear them shouting once they saw Isolda.
“Riptide!”
“Swim parallel, Isolda!”
“Go to the side, down the beach.”
I didn’t bother to yell, as I could see that she couldn’t hear a thing. She just kept swimming in, determined to beat the riptide. I ran into the water, trying to raise my knees to bring my feet over the waves to run faster. I saw Greg, just wading in the water, yelling instructions to her. This was not a swim team!
Then water hit above my waist, and the coldness momentarily shocked my body. Now I could hear my name being called out. I raised my hands to dive into the water, but one voice reached me, more desperate than the others. I froze for a second. It was Piper’s voice. I’d forgotten that she was on the trip with us.
“Don’t go,” she cried. “You could drown!”
I looked back, momentarily distracted by the desperation in her voice. Then the sounds of Isolda’s splashing brought me back to her situation. I looked toward her and called out behind me, “I have to!” I then raised my hands again and dove down into the water. I could hear her response right before my face hit the water; in my mind it was quiet, almost as if she had whispered it.
“Don’t go.”
Concentrating only on getting Isolda out of the riptide, I swam toward her. Feet away from her I could feel the thrust of the ocean, pushing me not only toward her but also to the open sea. I swam with it, trying to reach her, while she continued to swim in. Her strokes were slower now, weary from swimming against the wall of water pouring against her. My mind raced, trying to figure out how I was going to get us both out of this predicament. When I got within a couple feet I reached for her, grabbing her around her waist. I shifted to my back and pulled her around to float on top of me. Time slowed as she floated half way on top of me, choking on the brown salty water. It felt like hours, though I’m sure it was only moments that she lay on me, resting. I pumped my arms furiously to keep afloat as she rested her head on my chest. I could feel the ocean pushing us out and felt a bit of panic.
She pulled herself off my chest and yelled, “We have to get back to shore! We’ll drown out there. Or get eaten by sharks.”
And she wanted to be a marine biologist.
I furiously kicked my feet to keep my afloat, “No” I yelled.
“What?” she called back.
“No,” I yelled again. “We can’t swim back. We’ll get too tired.”
“No, we have to. I have to get back.”
“No, we can’t go back that way. Just trust me.” I reached out toward her, trying to pull her to swim parallel to the shore. She hesitated.
“Isolda. Just trust me. Would I swim all the way out here if I didn’t know what to do? Come on, just trust me.”
Suddenly, she dipped deeper, her legs heavy with fatigue. Eyes wide, she reached toward me and clasped her fingers in mine, while pumping with the other.
“Okay, we’re going to go that way. You’re going to have to swim hard again.” I stopped pumping for a second to point the way.
She looked me straight in the eyes. “Okay,” she gasped.
CHAPTER FIVE
When we finally reached the shore, Isolda fell to her knees and choked out brown water on the sand. After a while she sat there gasping air; it rattled in her lungs and throat until she could breathe normally. She scooped water into her mouth to clean it and made a face as the salt touched her tongue.
Finally, she turned over to lie on her back, exhausted and relishing the air as it rasped through her lungs. I looked around me; we were alone on this stretch of the beach. The rocky wall was between us and the rest of the class and they would have to climb it to reach us. Hopefully they would come soon. I didn’t feel like walking all the way back to the bus. I looked at Isolda. Well, maybe I could wait a little while for the bus to get us.
Satisfied that she was okay, I too lay on my back, feeling the wet sand underneath me. I took the air in, savoring the way it felt in my lungs and mouth, happy to be alive. A flash of memory hit me: Isolda and I standing in the nurse’s office, her body close to mine, her finger touching my cheek. It slipped away as the sun finally broke through the clouds and its beams shined directly into my eyes. I closed them, and it warmed my face, and all I could hear was the sound of the waves beating down on the beach. Waves that were so angry just minutes before now were tame, licking at my feet like a kitten begging for attention.
I could feel her hand inches from mine as we lay, side by side, on the sand. I shifted to my side and studied the way the wet curls in her sun-kissed hair hung in ringlets spread out on the sand, just waiting to be touched. My hand automatically reached out toward her fingers, brushing them.
She opened her eyes and looked at me. An overwhelming sense that we, somehow, fit together overcame me. Somehow deep inside me, I felt that she was meant to be a part of my world. It was like our souls were reuniting. It was crazy and made perfect sense at the same time.
Suddenly she jerked up.
“That was so stupid!”
Surprised, I sat up. I sat there in shock; I didn’t know what to say. I thought she would be grateful, happy even, and show a little more appreciation.
“What? What do you mean?” The realization that she really could have died crashed over me. "I saved your life!”
“I know!”
Now I was confused.
“What do you mean? You know that I saved your life, yet I’m stupid?” Intense emotions surged through me and I panicked. She could have died. “You’re the stupid one; you don’t swim against a riptide! You’ll just drown trying.” I was angry now.
“A what? A riptide? How am I supposed to know that? I don’t even know what that is. Apparently California doesn’t have them. We only have civilized beaches, I guess.”
A smile threatened at the corner of my mouth. I tried to suppress
it, I was still mad. “Civilized beaches?”
“Yes. I’ve never been in a ripper. How would I know what to do?”
A ripper.
“A ripper?’
“Yes. Rippers don’t exist in California.”
Now I couldn’t help but laugh. She didn’t realize how cute she was, sitting there in the sand with an indignant look on her face.
“What? What’s so funny?” she asked, furious that I was laughing at her. I kept laughing, and lay back down on the sand, swallowing my laugh and taking in deep breaths. Suddenly I felt delirious. My laugh bubbled back up to the surface and I couldn’t help but let it out in silly bursts. I think I swallowed too much water.
“What. Is. So. Funny?” she demanded and she stood up suddenly. It hurt my neck to look up at her.
“They’re called ‘riptides’, not rippers. And they probably do have them in California. Maybe you’ve just never heard of them before,” I explained. She huffed.
“That’s okay. Look, the only reason why I know about them is because this area is known for them, and my parents taught me since I was a kid what to do.”
She looked away. “Well, it was still stupid.”
“What are you talking about?” I stood up to face her and crossed my arms in front of me.
“I said, ‘that was still stupid.’”
“You certainly like to use that word,” I said quietly.
“What word? Stupid?” she burst out. “Yes, you’re right, I do like to use that word. Stupid stupid stupid.” Her voice grew louder. “And who’s stupid? Tristen Michael Winstead is stupid. You are an idiot and I can’t stand to be with idiots.” She was yelling now.
Anger welled up inside me, threatening to boil over. She turned to leave and something inside me just… burst open. I grabbed her arm and pulled her to face me again. She was inches from my face.
“What is wrong? Why are you so mad at me?”
She just stared at me while her chest rose and fell as she seethed. A strong wave of emotion came over me; I wanted to be that breath, I wanted her to breathe me in…and out. I wanted to be closer to her than humanly possible. My heart ached with the thought. Finally, she opened her mouth to speak.
The Last Seeker: Book 1: a teen & YA magical, fantasy, paranormal, & adventure novel (TRISTEN) Page 8
