by Anna Banks
Galen laughs. “They still do. And they’re not his friends anymore.”
“Aren’t you worried they told someone about you?”
He shrugs. “No one believes them. Dr. Milligan denied the whole thing to the human authorities. It’s his word against theirs.”
“Hmm,” she says, thoughtful.
They spend the next few minutes in silence. Just when he thinks he can’t take it anymore, she talks again.
“I’m definitely not hot anymore,” Emma says. Galen stops. “No,” she says quickly. “It feels good. Keep going.”
She would tell him anything at this point to see the surprise. And he would give her the benefit of the doubt. The truth is, he’s excited this moment is here.
When they get close, he faces her to him again. “Close your eyes. I want this to be a real surprise.”
She laughs. “You think I even know where we are? We could be in the North Pole for all I know. I don’t have a sense of direction on land, Galen.”
“Well, just the same, close your eyes.”
When she complies, he picks up speed, skirting them along the ocean floor until he sees it looming ahead of them. He turns her around. “Open your eyes, Emma,” he whispers.
He knows the exact moment she opens them. She gasps. He knew she would recognize it. “The Titanic,” she breathes. “Ohmysweetgoodness.”
He swims them to the hull. She reaches out to brush her fingers along the rail made so famous in movies. “Careful of the rust,” he warns.
“It looks so lonely. Just like in the pictures.”
He heaves them over the rail and supports her body weight so she can touch her feet on the deck. The stirred-up muck floats around them like an apparition. Emma laughs. “Wouldn’t it be funny to leave fresh footprints here? I bet they’d come up with all sorts of ghost stories. It would make headlines.”
“It would only increase the traffic down here. They’re already selling trips to the Titanic to tourists who can afford it.”
She giggles.
“What?” he says, smiling.
“There’s this big glass jug in the back of my closet. Last year when we studied this in school, I started throwing all my change in it to save up for one of those tours.”
He chuckles and lifts her from the deck to move forward. “What will you spend it on now?”
“Probably some of that chocolate Rachel keeps around the house. I hope I have enough.”
Everywhere she wants to go, he takes her. To the port-side deck, to the anchor, to the giant propeller. He pushes them inside and shows her the officer’s quarters, dilapidated halls, frames of windows with no glass. “We can go deeper in if your eyes are adjusting.”
She nods. “It’s like looking at things in the moonlight on a clear night. I can see almost everything if I really focus.”
“Good.” He reaches a hole in the hall floor and points into the darkness. “No human has been down there since the ship sank. You up for it?”
He can see the hesitation in her eyes. “What?” he asks. “You feel bad? Are you low on air? Is the pressure too much?” He clutches her tight, ready to spring up if she answers yes to any of it. Instead, she shakes her head and bites her lip.
“No, it’s not that,” she says, her voice cracking.
He stops. “Triton’s trident, Emma, what is it? Are … are you crying?”
“I can’t help it. Do you realize what this is? It’s a steel coffin for over fifteen hundred people. Mothers drowned with their children here. People who once walked down these halls got trapped underneath them. They ate off the dishes broken everywhere. Someone actually wore that boot we passed. Crew members kissed their families for the last time the day this ship left port. When we studied it in school, it made me sad for all these people. But it never felt as real as this. This is heartbreaking.”
He brushes her cheek with the back of his hand, imagining the tear that would be there if they weren’t twelve miles deep. “I shouldn’t have brought you here. I’m sorry.”
She grabs his hand but doesn’t move it away from her. “Are you kidding? This is the best surprise you could have planned. I can’t think of anything else that could top this. Seriously.”
“Do you want to keep going then? Or have you seen enough?”
“No, I want to keep going. I just felt I should acknowledge what happened here all those years ago. To be a respectful visitor, not just a mindless tourist.”
He nods. “We’ll explore a few more minutes below, then I need to take you up. We need to surface slowly, so your lungs can adjust if they need to. But I promise, I’ll bring you back if you want.”
She laughs. “Sorry, but I think this is my new favorite hangout. We might as well pack a lunch next time.”
Together, they swim deeper.
* * *
A warm glow from inside her house illuminates the doorstep. He shuts off the engine, fighting off the urge to back them out of the driveway and go somewhere, anywhere else. As long as they go together.
“Mom’s home,” Emma says softly.
He smiles. Her hair is still damp from the shower she took at his house, and her spare change of clothes—jeans and a paint-splattered T-shirt—are a bit wrinkled from their time spent shoved in a travel bag in the bottom of Rachel’s closet. This cozy look is just as inviting to him as the little purple dress she wore on their human date. He’s about to tell her so when she opens her door.
“Well, I’m sure she heard the car pull up so I’d better get inside,” she says.
He laughs, trying to swallow the disappointment as he walks her to the door. She fidgets with the keys as if she’s trying to decide which one will unlock the dead bolt. Since there are only three keys on the ring—and the other two are car keys—Galen takes delight in the fact that she’s stalling. She doesn’t want this day to end any more than he does.
She looks up then, meeting his eyes. “I can’t even tell you what a great time I had today. The best time, honest to goodness.”
“You know what my favorite part was?” he says, stepping closer.
“Hmm?”
“We didn’t fight. Not once. I hate fighting with you.”
“I do, too. It seems like a waste of time when…”
He leans impossibly closer, holding her gaze. “When?”
“When we could be enjoying each other’s company instead,” she whispers. “But you probably don’t enjoy my company here lately. I haven’t been very nice—”
He brushes his lips against hers, cutting her off. They’re softer than he ever imagined. And it’s not enough. Moving his hand from her jawline to entwine it in her damp locks, he pulls her to him. She tips up on her toes to meet him and as he lifts her from the ground, she folds her arms around his neck. Just as hungry for him as he is for her, she opens her mouth for a deeper kiss, pressing her soft curves into him. And Galen decides there is nothing better than kissing Emma.
Everything about her seems made for him. The way her mouth moves in perfect rhythm with his. The way she combs her fingers through his hair, sending a stirring jolt down his spine. The way her cool lips ignite heat through his whole being. She fits in his arms, as if her every curve fills a place on his own body.…
Neither of them realize when the door opens, but their lips break apart when Emma’s mom clears her throat. “Oh, excuse me,” her mom blurts. “I thought I heard a car pull up.… Uh, well, I’ll just be inside then.” She disappears behind an almost slammed door.
Galen grins down at Emma, still in his arms. The contentment he feels is shattered when he sees pain in her eyes.
She tugs free of his grasp and steps back. “All this time, I worried you wouldn’t be able to perform, but I almost dropped the ball.”
“Dropped the ball?” he asks, alarmed by the way her swollen lips quiver. Is she about to cry? “Did I do something wrong?” he whispers. She moves away when he reaches for her.
Giving a forced smile, she says, “No, it was perf
ect. I didn’t even hear her coming. Now she won’t have any doubts about us dating, will she?”
Understanding hits him like a rogue wave. Emma thinks I kissed her for her mom’s benefit. “Emma—”
“I mean, for a minute there, you almost had me convinced that we … Anyway, I’d better go inside before she checks on us again.”
“Have you lost your mind?” someone hisses from the bushes beside the porch. Galen doesn’t have to turn around to know it’s Rayna. She marches up the stairs, already pointing at Galen.
Oh, no.
Rayna pokes Galen’s chest. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, you know that? Following her all over the world, pretending to have the kingdom’s interest in mind. You slimy eel! You kissed her. I can’t believe you kissed her.”
Emma gives a nervous laugh. “You knew he was going to do that, Rayna. We told you, remember?”
Rayna gives her a horrified scowl. “Oooooh, no. He was going to pretend to kiss you. That kiss was real. Trust me on this one, Emma. I’ve known him a lot longer than you have.”
“Maybe we should take this out back to the beach?” Emma says, glancing at the front door.
Rayna nods, but Galen shakes his head. “No, you can go in, Emma. Rayna and I can talk about it on the drive home.”
“Uh-uh. No way, Galen. You’re telling her the truth.” If Rayna keeps raising her voice, Emma’s mom will hear. Galen grabs Rayna’s arm and pulls her from the porch. When she struggles, he throws her over his shoulder.
“Emma!” Rayna shouts, wiggling around like a hooked fish. “You need to hear this! Tell her, Galen! Tell her why you shouldn’t be kissing her at all.”
Emma walks to the edge of the porch and leans on it. “I already know I’m of the Poseidon house, Rayna. I won’t tell if you won’t,” she says, smiling at Galen.
“Stop being dumb, Emma,” Rayna yells back as they round the corner of the house, disappearing from sight. “You’re supposed to mate with Grom. Galen is supposed to take you to Grom!”
Galen stops. It’s too late. She’s said too much. The conversation could have been salvaged up until now. He sets his sister down. She won’t look up at him, just keeps her eyes focused behind them.
“Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” Rayna says without looking up. A tear glistens in the moonlight as it slides down her cheek. “How the fish follow her around? You thought I was too stupid to figure out why we tracked her across the big land, then stayed with her after you found out she was a half-breed? It’s not right what you did. She belongs to Grom. The decision to breed with her or not is his. It’s not fair to Emma either. She likes you. The way she should like Grom.”
It’s kind of bittersweet in a way. His sister just ruined the best night of his life and possibly any chance of getting what he wants. But she did it out of respect for Grom. And for Emma. How can he be mad about that?
Galen hears the front door open. Rayna stiffens. “What’s going on out here?” Mrs. McIntosh says.
“Oh, um. Nothing, Mom. We’re just talking, that’s all,” Emma says, from the corner of the house. Galen wonders how long Emma’s been standing there, looking at his back. Listening to Rayna accuse him of all sorts of nasty, true things.
“I heard yelling,” her mother says in a no-nonsense sort of way.
“Sorry. I’ll be quieter.” Emma clears her throat. “Galen and I are going to walk on the beach.”
“Don’t go too far,” her mom says. “And don’t make me come look for you.”
“Mom,” Emma groans at the shutting door.
Rayna visibly relaxes when they hear the dead bolt slide into place. Emma pushes past them both and heads toward the sand dunes behind her house. Exchanging a look, Galen and Rayna follow.
At the edge of the water, the moon seems to shine down on them like a spotlight, as if somehow the universe knew tonight would be one of enlightenment. Emma turns and faces them, her face stricken.
She looks at Rayna. “Spill it.”
“I just did,” Rayna says. “I just told you everything I know.” She wraps her arms around herself as if she’s freezing.
“Why am I supposed to mate with Grom? I’m of the house of Poseidon. I’m Grom’s enemy.”
Rayna opens her mouth, but Galen cuts her off. “Wait. I’ll tell her.” His sister stares at him, doubtful. He sighs. “You can stay if you want. In case I miss anything.”
She juts her chin out and nods once, ready for him to begin.
Galen turns back to Emma. “Remember when I told you that Grom was supposed to mate with Nalia, but that she died?”
Emma nods. “In the mine blast.”
“Right. They were supposed to mate with each other because they were third generation, firstborn of each house. Anyway, the reason they needed to mate was to perpetuate the Gifts of the Generals. To make sure the Gifts—”
“I know what perpetuate means,” she says. “Get on with it.”
Galen shoves his hands in his pocket to keep from moving toward her. “I told you that King Antonis refused to sire an heir after Nalia’s death. Without an heir for Grom to mate with, the Gifts could disappear. At least, that’s what the law says. When Dr. Milligan told me about you, when I saw you, I knew you had to be a direct descendant of Poseidon. So I—”
She holds up her hand. “Stop right there. Like you said before, I know how the story ends, don’t I?” She doesn’t try to wipe the tears streaming down her face. She laughs, a sharp sound, full of venom. “I knew it,” she whispers. “Deep down, I knew you had some ulterior motive here. That you weren’t trying to help me out of the kindness of your heart. Geez, I really fell for that, didn’t I? No, I fell for you. Lesson learned, right?”
“Emma, wait—” He reaches for her, but she backs away.
“No. Don’t you touch me. Don’t you ever touch me again.” She keeps backing away as if he’s going to attack her or something. His gut twists.
Galen and Rayna watch as Emma disappears between the sand dunes in front of her house, taking double-size steps like she was late for something.
“You hurt her,” Rayna says quietly.
“You didn’t help.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong.”
He sighs. “I know.”
“I like Emma.”
“I do, too.”
“Liar. You love her. That kiss was real.”
“It was real.”
“I knew it. What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know,” he says, watching the light flick on in Emma’s third-floor bedroom. He scratches the back of his neck. “In a way, I’m glad she knows. I didn’t like hiding it. But she probably wouldn’t cooperate if I told her the truth.”
Rayna snorts. “You think?” She tucks a short tendril behind her ear. “Besides, everything turned out sooo much better now because you hid it.”
“What are you doing here anyway?”
She shrugs. “You might remember that you sent my mate on some sort of secret mission. I was bored.”
“Glad we could entertain you.”
“Look, I wanted to see Emma’s house. Maybe meet her mom. Do something girlie. I didn’t come over here to ruin your life.” Her voice is quivering.
He puts his arm around her. “Don’t cry again. Come on. I’ll take you home,” he says quietly.
Rayna pinches the snot from her nose. Then she backs away from him, too, just as Emma had, only she’s moving toward the water. “I know the way home,” she says, before turning and diving in.
* * *
It’s only second period, and the whole school knows Emma broke up with him. So far, he’s collected eight phone numbers, one kiss on the cheek, and one pinch to the back of his jeans. His attempts to talk to Emma between classes are thwarted by a hurricane of teenage females whose main goal seems to be keeping him and his ex-girlfriend separated.
When the third period bell rings, Emma has already chosen a seat where she’ll be barricaded from him by other students. Througho
ut class, she pays attention as if the teacher were giving instructions on how to survive a life-threatening catastrophe in the next twenty-four hours. About midway through class, he receives a text from a number he doesn’t recognize:
If u let me, I can do things to u to make u forget her.
As soon as he clears it, another one pops up from a different number:
Hit me back if u want to chat. I’ll treat u better than E.
How did they get my number? Tucking his phone back into his pocket, he hovers over his notebook protectively, as if it’s the only thing left that hasn’t been invaded. Then he notices the foreign handwriting scribbled on it by a girl named Shena who encircled her name and phone number with a heart. Not throwing it across the room takes almost as much effort as not kissing Emma.
At lunch, Emma once again blocks his access to her by sitting between people at a full picnic table outside. He chooses the table directly across from her, but she seems oblivious, absently soaking up the grease from the pizza on her plate until she’s got at least fifteen orange napkins in front of her. She won’t acknowledge that he’s staring at her, waiting to wave her over as soon as she looks up.
Ignoring the text message explosion in his vibrating pocket, he opens the container of tuna fish Rachel packed for him. Forking it violently, he heaves a mound into his mouth, chewing without savoring it. Mark with the Teeth is telling Emma something she thinks is funny, because she covers her mouth with a napkin and giggles. Galen almost launches from his bench when Mark brushes a strand of hair from her face. Now he knows what Rachel meant when she told him to mark his territory early on. But what can he do if his territory is unmarking herself ? News of their breakup has spread like an oil spill, and it seems as though Emma is making a huge effort to help it along.
With his thumb and index finger, Galen snaps his plastic fork in half as Emma gently wipes Mark’s mouth with her napkin. He rolls his eyes as Mark “accidentally” gets another splotch of JELL-O on the corner of his lips. Emma wipes that clean too, smiling like she’s tending to a child.
It doesn’t help that Galen’s table is filling up with more of his admirers—touching him, giggling at him, smiling at him for no reason, and distracting him from his fantasy of breaking Mark’s pretty jaw. But that would only give Emma a genuine reason to assist the idiot in managing his JELL-O.
