Chapter 18 #2
“The ROV is reaching three thousand meters,” she says. “We need you in the command center.”
“Coming!” I use her as an excuse to escape my thoughts, this situation with Mateo, and the uncomfortable tightness in my chest. Sofía disappears through the door before Mateo’s hand grips my bicep, pausing my getaway .
“Later, bruja,” he says, “you and I are going to talk about us and what all this means.”
His words terrify the shit out of me, so I do what I do best: I frantically nod before running away to the command room.
If Mateo’s arm brushes mine one more time, I might scream.
For the last seven hours, we have sat in close quarters, our skin brushing every time he or I move, and it’s fucking torture. We’ve identified nothing but benthic organisms—creatures that live on the seafloor—and I’ve seen plenty of sea pigs and rocks for this lifetime.
Morale is low in the room. Jett lounges in a chair, half focused on his phone. Sofía types away on her computer, filling out paperwork, and Doug is asleep in the corner, snoring softly.
“Where are all the cool animals?” Jett whines as the ROV glides over the seafloor, little around except for spiny sea stars and worms. Don’t get me wrong, I love all deep-sea creatures, but I would love to see something rare right now, like a barreleye fish or anglerfish, to distract me from Mateo’s touch.
This time, his foot taps mine as he shifts, and I almost release a frustrated squeal.
Pulling out the small amethyst from my pocket, I weave it around my fingers, hoping the calming energy will permeate into my skin and ease my unsettled stomach. I might be freaking out about our impending conversation and what it means for our future.
“I think I see something,” Vivian says, and we all leap to our feet, scrambling to the screen as she gets closer. I watch with bated breath, hopeful for something unique, but instead, I groan in disappointment.
“It’s a freaking rock,” Jett yells, defeat in his voice.
The room silently stares at the offending boulder, covered in encrusting tunicates, when Vivian declares we’re going to end the dive and begin ascent. I return to my seat, covertly moving it farther from Mateo, but he thwarts my efforts and scoots his chair beside mine.
His fingers dip below the table, trailing along the outside of my thigh.
I’m embarrassed by the small mewl that escapes my lips.
Mateo is the picture of calm professionalism, his face focused as he watches the video, but a rogue dimple appears, and his hand inches upward to my hip before he moves south.
Back and forth.
Back and forth, until I’m squirming, unable to focus on anything but his lingering touch as he moves.
“Oh my god.” Jett’s voice, brimming with excitement, cuts through the fog, and I focus on the camera footage, which zooms in on a thin creature, its slim blue-silver body shining beneath the ROV’s floodlights.
It hovers in the water column, no longer than the size of a ruler, but its teeth, abnormally long and protruding from its jaw, mark it as a predator. Without the lights, its ultra-black skin would make it nearly undetectable in the deeper sections of the ocean, where light can’t penetrate.
My jaw is agape as the Pacific viperfish moves closer to the camera, shifting to display its razor-sharp teeth and large eyes.
Jett hyperventilates in the corner, fanning himself, before shrieking, “The camera, Doug! Record this on your camera!”
Doug jerks awake, startled, but hurries to follow Jett’s command to film the momentous occasion.
Until this moment, we’ve seen very little outside of the bloody-belly comb jelly and benthic invertebrates.
I inch closer to the screen, reveling in this moment, in the rarity of witnessing the creature in its natural habitat.
“Diurnal vertical migration,” I say, offering no context to the scientific term, too enthralled by the small creature.
Its features aren’t flashy or beautiful; rather, the creature is built to survive in an environment designed against it.
In a world where bright scales draw attraction, it’s camouflaged itself.
In a domain where it’s kill or be killed, it’s evolved teeth to attack and defend.
It adapted to survive, its beauty secondary to its primary goal: to thrive in an inhospitable habitat.
Mateo’s intoxicating cologne fills the air before the weight of his hand falls on my lower back, invading my personal space.
“It’s beautiful,” he says, and my chest tightens.
Is it beautiful?
I don’t think so.
It’s gnarly and dangerous, a perfectly designed predator, but I wouldn’t describe it as beautiful. There’s nothing inviting about a viperfish; it’s ugly—alien.
“What’s diurnal vertical migration?” Jett asks, hovering over Vivian while she works.
How the fuck did he get across the room so quickly?
“It’s a migrational pattern where organisms will move to shallow waters at night, then return to deeper depths during the day. We likely caught the viperfish moving up the water column to feed,” Mateo says, his hand still glued to the curve of my spine.
Jett nods enthusiastically, childlike joy overtaking his features, as he watches the viperfish disappear when the ROV breaks the surface.
“This is the best day ever,” he says, throwing his arms around Vivian. “Thank you for finding him!”
Vivian chuckles but peels his arms off her to finish driving the ROV to the retrieval location .
I begin to collect my belongings—computer, notebook, colored pens—when Mateo returns to my side and takes my tote bag from my hands, sliding his own things into the bag before flinging it over his shoulder.
“We’ll see you guys at dinner,” he says to the room, before nodding toward the door. I’m rooted in place as he walks away, and when he realizes I’m not with him, he walks back to me, takes my hand, and intertwines our fingers.
Mateo pulls me out of the control room, and my skin tingles where our palms meet. My heartbeat is in my throat, stopping any words from forming.
Once we’re alone, Mateo utters the words that strike fear, and buried anticipation, into my heart.
“It’s time to talk, bruja . ”