by Jillian Dodd
“Uh, yeah, sure. Just don’t get any close-ups of my face,” I say a little nervously. “I don’t have on any makeup and my hair is kind of a mess. I mean, I don’t mind people seeing me like this, it’s just I don’t want a photo like that being printed in a magazine, if you know what I mean.”
“I understand.” He studies me closely. “But, you know, you don’t need makeup. I mean, I didn’t even, uh, notice you weren’t wearing any,” he says, fumbling over his words.
I feel a little self-conscious while doing the poses. I also suddenly feel like my tight tank and shorts aren’t covering me up enough. It’s weird, really. I wear stuff like this in my videos that get hundreds of thousands of views, but when I’m on the other side of Adam’s camera, I feel . . . vulnerable and a little naked. Like somehow his camera allows him to see me in a way no one else has before.
But I’m a professional, so I smile and do my thing while he snaps away.
Once he’s done, I excuse myself to get ready.
I throw my bag open and double check what I had scheduled to wear for today. And I’m super excited for this look. It’s the perfect thing to wear on the beach. I quickly get ready then check my reflection in the hazy mirror. My ruffled bikini has a bright tropical floral pattern, and I’ve paired it with a light pink sundress. My hair is in a fishtail braid, and I have on a tinted foundation with the added bonus of SPF as well as waterproof mascara. Hopefully it stays put. I pack a little tote bag, throwing in my notebook, a water bottle, sunscreen, camera, and a spare tee like Diego suggested. Then I head to breakfast.
The dining hall is quite full for such a small space. I spot Richo with his group as well as Diego sitting at a nearby table. I go back to the breakfast bar, where the nice woman who works in the kitchen quickly makes up my plate. She piles fruit, rice and beans, and eggs with some salsa onto my plate, and I thank her when she hands it to me. I head over to get some fresh juice and then go sit next to Diego.
“Good morning. How are you doing?” I ask him.
“I’m wonderful. Thank you.” He smiles. “Are you excited for snorkeling today?”
“I think so,” I say, scrunching up my nose. “It’s a little scary because I’ve never been before, but I’m excited to see all the cute little fishies and get a tan.”
He bellows out a laugh. “Well, that is wonderful. You will have a great time. Just remember to always keep your life vest on and stay with your buddy. Adam told me last night he has snorkeled before. It’s always reassuring to have someone out there who knows what they’re doing. And, of course, your instructors will keep an eye on you. Just watch out for sharks.”
“Sharks?” I ask, wide-eyed.
“Of course. You’ll see a variety of marine life. We don’t see sharks often, but you always want to be on the lookout.”
“Oh, okay,” I say, taking a bite of my food as he leaves and Adam sits down.
“I can’t believe there might be sharks,” I mutter. “All the snorkeling photos I’ve ever seen show bright blue water and amazing colorful little fishes.” I pull on Adam’s shirt. “How many times have you been snorkeling?”
He sets his fork down. “Uh, probably more than a dozen. Why?”
“Have you ever seen a shark?”
“Not yet, unfortunately. Maybe we’ll get lucky today.”
“Are you kidding me? Do you have a death wish?”
“No. They’ll just swim right by you as long as you don’t seem like a threat and, you know, aren’t bleeding or anything. Just act like you’re a fish.”
“Sharks eat fish.”
“Yeah, true,” he chuckles. I can tell he’s not taking me seriously. If I had access to my phone, I would so be Googling how to survive a shark attack. I’m not sure I even want to go now. “The main thing is not to panic. You don’t want to flail or swim frantically. Just remain frozen and calm.”
I sigh loudly and take a bite of my rice and beans. I’ve never eaten rice and beans for breakfast before I came here, but it’s good. I grab my notebook and write down an idea for a video entitled, Healthy Breakfasts Inspired by my Trip to Costa Rica.
Diego walks back by us with a coffee thermos in his hand and says, “You two have fun today. And be careful. I’m going to head on out. I’ll see you this afternoon.”
“I wish Diego was coming with us,” I say out loud. “There’s something calming about his presence.”
“You just like routine,” Adam says.
“No, I don’t.”
“When you are at home, what do you do every morning?”
I brighten. “I get up, make a smoothie or acai bowl, do some yoga, go to my favorite coffee shop—”
“Every morning?”
“Well, yes, usually.”
“See. Routine. We’re on an adventure, Effortlessly Camille. Stop worrying so much and let yourself enjoy each moment. Imagine the story you’d have to tell if you saw a shark today.” He laughs. “Well, if you survive, anyways.”
I playfully slap his shoulder. He is just infuriating. Lexi has an older brother who teases her all the time. I wonder if that’s what Adam is doing—messing with me. I start to call him on it when Richo starts speaking.
“If I can have your attention for a minute, I would like to introduce your snorkeling instructors. This is Linda,” he says, pointing to a lean, petite woman who is wearing a short neoprene wetsuit and has her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. She has a delicate structure and reminds me of a ballerina. “And this is Anthony. As you finish up your breakfast, we are going to have a lecture on marine life. After that, we will head down to the dock, show you how to use the equipment, and then head out. Make sure you refill your water bottles and bring them with you.”
Adam and I put our plates up and then return to our seats as the lecture starts.
I get out my notebook as Linda addresses our little group. “Costa Rica is known for its coral reefs, which can be found on both coasts. Corals, which make up coral reefs, live in tropical waters and are usually close to the surface where they get sunlight. In this area, you will find tropical fish and sea fans. Coral reefs grow extremely slow, and coral colonies can live for decades, or even centuries. For coral reefs to develop, they need warm water, mild wave actions to get rid of debris and bring plankton and oxygen in, and clear water which is low in nitrogen nutrients. The coral reef is part of a larger ecosystem. This ecosystem has different biological communities within it, and reefs are one of the most diverse ecosystems in the world. Reefs form from the excretion of calcium carbonate by living corals. Corals are actually small animals that have calcium carbonate shells. Unfortunately, coral reefs are slowly dying because of habitat loss due to pollution, overfishing, and human harvesting.”
“Human harvesting?” I turn toward Adam. “That’s crazy! They have this whole world going on down there, and we’re destroying it? I never knew coral reefs were little underwater communities, I just thought they were, I don’t know, pretty coral.”
He nods his head in agreement as Linda continues. “Coral reefs are called home by a large number of organisms that depend upon the reef for food and shelter. These organisms include oysters, clams, shrimp, crabs, sponges, jellyfish, sea turtles, and numerous species of fish. These fish include snappers, horse-eyed jacks, parrot fish, butterflyfish, and pufferfish. If you ever go diving, there are three different sea turtles you might see here—green sea turtles, olive ridley sea turtles, and leatherback sea turtles. The leatherbacks are the largest of all three,” she says, pointing to a chart on the wall as she says each of the species’ names. “Before you go out to the dock, take some time to study the chart so you’ll know what kinds of fish you see.”
Adam and I study the chart together and then walk to the dock.
“What did you do last night?” he asks, causing me to freeze in my tracks. Uh. I can’t tell him I fell asleep in the hammock. He knows the hammocks are by the water. And he’d figure out I saw some of his late night skinny dipping. If my frien
d, Lexington, had been here, she would have stripped off her clothes and joined him. She’s always telling me to live more in the moment. But I think that’s just her excuse to drink a little too much and make-out with random guys.
“I was tired. Fell asleep quickly,” I reply then deftly change the subject. “Yesterday you were telling me about your parents and how your dad is a photographer. Is that how you got this assignment or had the magazine already heard of you?”
“My dad works with travel and environmental companies, nothing fashion related. But I guess the editor of Fashion Forward posted about the article on a site my dad frequents. He sent her my portfolio and once she saw it, she told my dad if I was interested to call her. When I did, she went on about how she had been away on sabbatical, how it transformed her, and how she wanted to do more articles focusing on the environment. Then she offered me the job.”
“Were you so excited when she called? I was jumping up and down.”
One corner of his mouth lifts up in a smirk. “I didn’t really want to take the job at first. I’m not into the whole fashion thing and felt like I would sort of be betraying my ideals—selling out—by doing work for a company that promotes endless consumerism. But my dad talked me into taking it, and no I have never worked in fashion. Mostly travel pieces for smaller magazines and online sites, but nothing of this magnitude.”
“Endless consumerism?” I challenge. “I feel like that’s such a harsh statement. We all need clothes, and I don’t see what the issue is with wanting to dress and present yourself nicely to the world. I mean, I love watching trends and seeing how fashion evolves, it’s like artwork,” I explain.
He stares intensely at me. “I agree that we all need clothing, but they come out with new collections multiple times a year. Trends change so fast that by the time you find out about one and purchase something, there is something new out. It promotes the idea that you have to have certain tangible goods to be fulfilled, or to fit in, and I just don’t agree with that. It just seems wasteful to push overconsumption.”
I cross my arms in front of my chest with a little hmph.
“But, on the other hand,” he says. “I understand what you’re saying. I think it is cool to express yourself through the medium of clothing.”
“Huh,” I say, caught completely off guard when he agrees with me. “You know, I never thought of it that way. I guess it can be a little ridiculous. But it’s so easy to get caught up in.”
Adam laughs as we walk onto the dock where Linda and Anthony are waiting.
“Hi, I’m Camille,” I say, shaking their hands.
“And I’m Adam,” he says, greeting them.
“Man, I love your camera. It looks awesome,” Anthony says to Adam.
“Yeah, I’m excited to use it today. Hopefully I can get some great under-water shots.” Adam is grinning from ear to ear and his excitement is palpable—which almost makes me forget about the sharks.
The other group is following right behind, and once we are all together, Anthony says, “I’m going to show you how to use the snorkel gear. It’s pretty simple, here you have your mask. You want to make sure it fits tightly to your face. The snorkel attaches through this hook to your mask, allowing you to breathe while your face is in the water.” He holds up fins and yellow vests. “You’ll need to try on your fins to make sure they fit properly and feel free to wear one of these floating vests. If everyone will now board the boat, we’ll be on our way.”
Adam
The boat is all white with seating around the bow. Linda takes her place behind the wheel while Anthony sorts through the gear. As we head out into the ocean, the heat of the sun warms my face while the breeze keeps me cool. Camille is sitting next to me, looking ahead. Her braid is mostly holding tight, but a few loose strands fly away from her face, which is covered with obnoxiously large sunglasses. The boat slices across the waves, jostling us around. Hopefully no one gets seasick.
Once we are out a ways, the boat slows to a stop, and Anthony announces that this is our snorkeling spot. “Everyone get ready, make sure you have on sunscreen, and then let’s get you fins that fit. Once you’ve done that, grab a snorkel and mask.” He goes around to everyone, letting us try on fins to determine our correct size. I’m taking a few photos and watching the other group when Camille stands up and pulls her dress over her head, revealing a teeny little ruffled bikini.
I suck in a deep breath. The first night we met, she wore a one-piece, and when I walked in on her screaming about the shower, she was covered with a towel. I’ve never seen so much of her skin, and it’s . . . affecting me.
“Can you put sunscreen on my back, pretty please?” she begs, turning toward me.
“Uh, yeah sure,” I try to say calmly.
She hands me a bottle of sunscreen and perches on the seat with her back facing me. For a few moments I just stare at her creamy skin wondering if it feels as soft as it looks.
“Do you need help getting the bottle open?” she asks, flipping her braid around toward me.
“Uh, no. Just got it,” I lie, quickly flipping the lid open and pouring the lotion into my palm. Then I place my hand atop her shoulder, wondering why I’m making such a big deal out of this. I rub the lotion into her soft skin, starting with her shoulders then working my way down her back.
“Make sure you get all of it, okay? I don’t want to burn,” she says over her shoulder.
“Alright,” I reply back, feeling awkward and wondering why I do. It’s not like I like her. But as I glide my hands across her lower back, I know why. Because I might be slightly attracted to her. And that thought sets my heart racing. Seriously, this is ridiculous. “All finished,” I tell her, quickly removing my hands from her skin.
“Awesome. Now I’ll do you,” she says cheerfully. “Turn, turn.” She motions for me to spin around.
But I can’t. Have her hands. On me.
“Not necessary,” I reply. “I don’t really burn.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she counters. “Diego said even if you don’t normally burn, you might out there. Hurry up. We’re about to put our flippers on.”
“Fins,” I correct. Realizing I’m not going to win this one, I take off my shirt and turn around.
All of a sudden, I feel a cold drizzle slide down my back. “Hey! What are you doing?”
“Don’t worry. I won’t make a mess. It’s just so fun to squirt the sunscreen straight out of the bottle,” she says, laughing. When she starts rubbing it in, my whole body tenses. Her hands are soft against my skin, and she takes her time, not missing a single spot, which makes the process an odd combination of slightly excruciating—and quite pleasing. By the time I allow myself to enjoy it, she says, “Finished. You’re all good.”
“Awesome.” I breathe out a sigh of relief. Pull it together, dude.
Once we have our gear on, we climb down the ladder and into the water.
“Make sure your mask is on tight and has some suction,” Linda explains. “And if you get water in your mask, push the top against your forehead and breathe out through your nose. It should come right out.”
Linda hands me my fins from the boat, and I slide them on. Camille is last in the water, and she climbs down the ladder a little nervously. Once she has on her fins, Anthony gets in the water with us while Linda stays on the boat.
“You are free to roam this little area,” Anthony instructs. “Please always stay with your partner and constantly be looking up to make sure you haven’t wandered off too far. Linda and I will keep a head count, and if you have any questions feel free to ask.”
As soon as I dip my head into the water, I get pumped. I can see so many fish, so much color. Camille’s face comes into view, right in front of mine. I swear, she’s so annoying sometimes, but she’s smiling through her mask, and it makes me laugh. She’s also kind of a goofball. It’s cute.
We swim toward a large coral structure a few feet away. It’s dark yellow and sort of looks like a brain. Nearby,
there is a bright purple coral that looks like a shrub. Camille points at a small school of yellow fish swimming past, and I start snapping some photos. On the bottom of the ocean floor, I see bright green sea grass sticking up from in between the coral structures. I poke her side and motion for her to turn around. Then I get a really cool photo of her carelessly floating on the top of the water with all of the hustle and bustle of fish going on below her. I pop out of the water to check where we’re at, seeing the boat maybe fifteen yards away. We turn back toward it, moving along, seeing fish of all different sizes and colors below.
Camille waves her hand excitedly in front of my face then points down to my right where a beautiful little iridescent fish is swimming. I get some great shots of it, including a few with it swimming next to Camille. She will probably like that photo the best, because the fish is all sparkly, just like her.
We swim around for a while admiring the view. Camille pops up out of the water to adjust her mask then pushes her face back into the water. A few moments later, she pops up again.
“Oh! Ouch,” she whines.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, panicking a little as she rips her mask off.
“I got salt water in my eyes,” she says, flailing a little.
I grab ahold of her and pull her toward me. “It’s okay. I have you. Close your eyes and lie back.” She keeps rubbing her eyes. “Just hold still, let them rest for a minute, and stop flailing around. I have you, don’t worry,” I tell her, pulling her close to my chest. She does as instructed, and I feel her body relax against mine.
She bats open her now red eyes, and I notice tears falling down from the corners of them.
“They feel better, thank you,” she says, looking into my eyes. Her body is pressed tightly against mine, and she’s looking up at me expectantly. I wonder for a moment if she wants me to kiss her. Then I shake my head, ridding myself of the ridiculous thought.
