Chapter 17
Marina
When Gil said he had something to set up, I was a little disappointed to be separated so soon. However, after staying up all night trying to summon him with the power of cheese balls, a nap is hard to argue with.
I meet him back at Camp Mangrove, careful to avoid park rangers and tourists in our secret place.
The outdoor mess hall shimmers with candles that glow in the mid-morning light.
Beads and bracelet supplies are set up on a table, among them pearls and shining blue charms. I stare for a moment, picking up a pearl and feeling the familiar weight in my hands.
“Is this from my bracelet?” I ask. “But on my first day here, it—”
“Fell into the water?” Gil smirks, finishing my sentence. “I just happened to be swimming by when you dropped it.”
So those yellow eyes… it really was him.
“It took a while to find the pieces—figured I could make something a little stronger for you this time,” he says, which sounds like an understatement. I bet it took him hours to find everything. I gulp, looking at all the little beads and strings laid out before us.
It’s time he gets a proper friendship bracelet too.
“Do you remember the summer we spent looking for these?” I ask, sliding one of the pearls onto a length of string, along with a collection of pony beads I’ve sorted. It’s a strange thing, sitting across from Gil like this, at one of the old picnic tables.
It’s so real it almost feels wrong.
When so many people tell you you’re lying, it’s easy to start rewriting history. But now? It’s undeniable.
He’s undeniable.
The comfortable silence is paired with something jittery—a crush. My first crush is here, covered in scales, and happens to be staring right back at me.
His gills cut into high cheekbones, and his fins ruffle off his flat ears like lace.
His jaw is angular, in stark contrast to his wide-set round eyes that are the precise color of lemons, summer, and sunlight.
When I look at him for too long, heat rises to my face.
Then, I stare at his hands, and that’s not any better.
I’ve always had a thing for hands, and his are hard not to look at.
Get it together, Marina! I scold as his strong veined green fingers nimbly make use of the craft supplies he’s prepared.
He weaves his bracelet with a mix of greens and blues with yellow-tinged pearls throughout.
It reminds me of the colors that make up his scale-covered body.
I try to mirror it, stringing beads in shades of pink next to each other, but it feels …
hollow, like it’s missing something to give it that little bit of magic.
My fringed vest jingles as I move, and—that’s it.
I untie a knot at the edge of the fringe and take off a few beads, adding them onto the bracelet.
His eyes follow my movements, but as he continues to stare, I find his expression more and more unreadable.
“What’s with the funny look?” I ask, crinkling my nose at him.
“Darlin’, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but this is in fact my face,” he replies. Though the words are self-deprecating, his drawl is as smooth and charming as ever—as are the small collection of lizards that have hopped up onto the table to keep him company.
“That is not what I meant.” I glare at him from across the picnic table. As it happens, I’m a bigger fan of his face than ever. His frog-like eyes blink at me, one at a time. I can’t help but laugh.
Cute.
He’s so cute.
“I was trying to say you’re looking at me strange,” I say, setting the bracelet aside and giving him a pointed look.
“Is it strange to stop and admire a sunrise?” he asks, cocking his head. What is he saying? The sun has been up for a few hours and—
“I don’t understand.”
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen—that’s all.” There’s something coy about the way he says it. He’s distracted, focusing on tying off the elastic on his finished bracelet. It looks a little tricky with the webbed hands, but he’s skillful alright,
I wonder if he does rings.
He’s too perfect, a combination of everything I longed for back then, and everything I need right now.
My breath catches as I tear my eyes away.
“You alright?” His voice comes soft and calm, further proving my point. My hands shake against the table.
“What if I’m imagining you again?” My voice comes as a dull whisper.
With his free hand, he reaches to slip the bracelet back on my wrist. The beads roll across my skin until it’s perfectly in place.
“I’m right here.” His whisper is accompanied by a kiss to my cheek. “Looks like it’s a perfect fit, hm?”
“Yeah…” I say, admiring the combination of charms and pearls that contrast the humble pony beads. Before I lose my nerve, I slide the one I made onto his wrist too.
Gil’s grin is wide and confident as he strides backward toward a jug of sweet tea.
In his excitement, he forgot to grab cups so the two of us have been taking swigs like it’s a fine wine.
There’s something so perfect yet unexpected about seeing him surrounded by trees adorned with hanging moss holding the bottle to his lips.
I find myself scanning him from top to bottom in this all-too-familiar space: the webbed shape of his feet, strong legs, the scale-covered bulge that’s as smooth as if he’s wearing dance tights. I stare for too long overtaken by curiosity.
We’ve kissed, but what if things went a little further…
“Can you get me pregnant?” I ask, and suddenly, sweet tea sprays from his lips like an erupting volcano.
I’m grateful his mouth was facing away from me. Maybe it’s the nerves, the sugar, or the way I’m consumed by fantasies of his body on mine. But that should have been an inside thought.
“What?” His voice is hoarse.
Oh no.
Gil thinks I’m making a request.
My breath catches and I imagine a life—a future together.
Tiny, webbed feet padding across a floor, halls filled with yawns from sleepless nights and laughter.
I mirror the wide-eyed expression he’s wearing—oh my God, I need to chill out.
Sure, we have the whole reunited childhood best friend thing, but I probably shouldn’t be imagining having babies with a man I’ve been on one and a half dates with, especially since kids are a “someday with the right person” thing for me.
He doesn’t say anything, only blinks with those transparent lids. As funny as it is to see him look this frazzled, I’m about to hide under the picnic table to combat the shame growing deep in my chest.
“Let me try that again,” I say, resisting the urge to hide my face in my hands. “If things got … physical, is there any protection we need?”
“Oh,” His pupils flare, dark and seemingly endless, making me melt with each second. Dear God…
“I’m not trying to assume, I just—oh my god, I’m so sorry, forget I said anything.”
“No—no, it’s not bad to talk about stuff like this. In fact, we should,” he says, but his eyes are suddenly averted. “Things like condoms work fine if that suits you. I… um, don’t want to assume anything about us going further, but if we did, I’d want us to be safe…”
“Condoms…” I say, slowly studying the lower half of his body—again.
“It … can make an appearance when it’s invited,” he simply says. “Does the lack of clothing bother you? I can—”
“No, it’s fine. I mean, you … and also, condoms. Yeah, those are good. Not that I was in a rush. I was mostly—”
“Curious?”
“Mhmm!”
“I have to be honest with you…” he begins, clearing his throat. “When I said I was new to all this, I meant it.” I wonder if this is the part where he tells me he doesn’t feel the same way, the nostalgia has worn off, the kiss we shared wasn’t good.
“I haven’t kissed…” Gil trails off, fiddling with the bracelet he’s been working on. He breathes out slowly, and I move to sit next to him.
“Many humans?” I offer, sliding my hand on top of his. He shakes his head.
“Many … anyone,” he says, and his eyes meet mine. “Apart from you. It’s… well, I need to feel a sort of connection with someone, and there just hasn’t been.”
“Except now?” I ask, closing the distance between us.
He nods, his forehead pressing against mine. I exhale, relaxing against him, feeling his arm circle my waist.
“I feel it too,” I say, my lips pressing against his in a sweet peck. He smiles against me. “Guess I don’t have too many exes to worry about.”
“But I’m sure I’ll have hordes to fight through.”
I shake my head, grabbing a string from the table, sliding on beads to busy my hands. If he was honest about his lack of romantic history, I can be honest about mine.
“It’s not that I haven’t, it’s—” How do I explain this to him?
God. Relationships in the past have never gone anywhere, emotionally at least, even when it felt like I was connecting and having a great night, it never got past just being physical.
“I always chalked it up to being forgettable, but you never forgot, did you?”
My first real friend.
“How could anyone ever forget you?” Gil’s hand has moved to cup my face, the webbing soft on my skin; at his touch, my shoulders relax. I take his hand in mine, slipping the bracelet I made onto his wrist, taking a moment to admire the way the pink contrasts with the green and blue of his scales.
Our bodies shift so that our arms press together, touching exactly in the place our matching bracelets meet. I let out a low hum, thinking about this place—the memories we made together. It’s always been comfortable like this with him. It’s no wonder I decided so long ago that I’d stay—forever.
“I’m sorry our plan didn’t work back then.”
Back then.
My stomach twists. My hair stands on end, thinking about how foolish I had been. Every summer we saw each other, every year we didn’t want things to end. So, I packed up my things and I ran to the cove where Gil promised to meet me—to swim me away from everything.
I was tired of taking up space, surrounded by people who didn’t want me around. Even Grams was grieving back then, the hurt intensified in her eyes the more I grew to look like Mom.