Chapter 25
Ihaven’t heard from Nox in six weeks, but the second I touch down in Sydney and turn my phone off airplane mode, his name flashes across the screen. The text is one word long.
Boo.
Three little letters and I’m immediately drawn back to the lake, back in his arms, back with his lips against my throat and his whisper in my ear.
If you have to be haunted, be haunted by me, Clara.
I am.
I really, truly am. I can’t escape that memory. Nox and I may not have spoken since then, but I hear his voice in my thoughts every day, feel his phantom fingers on my skin. My own personal ghost, just as he promised.
“Excuse me. Hello? Excuse me.”
A hand lands on my shoulder and I jolt. The woman next to me gestures to the line of people shuffling quickly down the center aisle of the plane.
We’re next. I grab my bag from the floor and throw it over my shoulder, following the queue.
I’ve been traveling for twenty-two hours already, and I’ve got one more flight before I get to Cairns, the city along the northeastern coast of Australia where I’ll be studying.
It’s nestled against the Great Barrier Reef, the ideal location for coral enthusiasts everywhere, but a bitch to get to from New York.
I’m literally halfway around the world with a fifteen-hour time difference.
Calculations spin through my thoughts as I follow the crowd down the jet bridge. If it’s 4 p.m. here, it’s…
1 a.m. at Swiftmore.
A disappointed sigh escapes me. There’s no way he’s awake. Still, I find a seat and plop down in the terminal, in no rush at all with a three-hour layover before my final leg.
Boo.
I stare at the word, reading it again and again as my thumbs hover over the screen. Is he goading me?
Of course he is. What am I even saying? The real question is, do I want to goad him right back?
I could be honest instead. I could admit that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him, that I’m terrified he’s going to completely forget about me during this year apart, that I wish I’d let him kiss me sooner.
Nah.
I smirk as I tap out a quick message.
Had to wait until there was an entire ocean between us? Who’s haunting who?
I don’t expect a response, but my phone vibrates almost immediately.
You’re my own personal poltergeist.
It’s a joke, I know, but there’s something about it that rings true. My heart does a somersault. He must be feeling vulnerable, because he follows it up quickly, almost defensively.
You could have texted me.
He’s right. I could have. I don’t know why I’m always waiting on him to make the first move, except to say I’m scared.
Scared of the way he makes me feel. Scared to open myself up to being hurt.
Scared of letting someone else in, of getting so wrapped up in another person I don’t know where they end and I begin.
Yes, it was different with Mabel. We were best friends, not lovers, but I still let her control me.
How do I know I won’t let that happen again?
How do I give him pieces of myself without disappearing completely?
Maybe I needed an entire ocean between us, too.
The admission stares at me from the chat box. My thumb hovers over the send button. Do I do it? Do I dare?
No.
What are you doing awake? I thought you’d be passed out by now.
Maybe I am.
Maybe this is all in your head.
Maybe you’ve been dreaming about me so intensely for so long the hallucinations have finally leaked into real life.
Nox.
Or maybe I just couldn’t sleep.
Did you know my flight was today?
Nova might have mentioned it.
How many seasons of Planet Earth have you rewatched so far?
None, thank you very much. I read a memoir about exploring deep-sea bioluminescence by one of my favorite female marine biologists.
And possibly also found a hidden trove of old episodes of The Crocodile Hunter. Thank you, Qantas. And actually, thank you Australia for appreciating Steve Irwin as the national treasure he still is.
Knew it.
How are you feeling?
Excited?
Scared shitless?
So pretty much the same as always.
You can’t see it but I’m glaring at you right now.
Don’t worry. I feel it. Very intimidating.
I felt that eye roll, too.
When are Worlds?
I leave in three days, then I have about a week to adjust to the time difference before my first race.
How are you feeling?
Ready.
Don’t you ever feel nervous?
Not about swimming.
About what, then? But I don’t ask. I’m not sure I’m ready for the answer.
That confident you’re going to win?
No.
Winning is never guaranteed. But I’ve done absolutely everything I can do to prepare. I’ve trained my ass off. Worrying would just waste energy I can’t afford to spare. If you walk onto the pool deck scared, you’ve already lost.
I wish I approached life the way you do.
I’m half expecting a professor to be waiting in my room with an apology and a plane ticket home, explaining that they meant to accept the other Clara Hayes.
Why?
I don’t know.
You wrote an amazing essay. You nailed your interviews. You deserve to be there. There were a ton of other applicants, and they chose you. They want you. Believe them.
You make it sound so easy.
You’re the only one who has trouble seeing how incredible you are.
My heart skips a beat. I read the text again, my body going warm.
I should probably let you go to bed.
I’m already ten thousand miles away. You don’t have to keep running.
But he’s not. He’s right here, right next to me, every time I close my eyes.
I sigh, staring at the text, not sure what to say.
Too much?
Fine. Message received.
But I helped you get past one fear already. I have no problem helping you work through another. You know me. I like a challenge.
I snort into my phone, trying to ignore the thrill that shoots up my sternum.
Go to bed, Nox.
You’re delirious.
Sweet dreams, Clara.
Happy haunting.
I slip my phone back into my bag and drop my head into my hands before scraping my fingers through my hair.
I don’t want to distract him. I don’t want to be the reason he’s up at all hours of the night and not getting the rest he needs.
That’s the whole reason I kept him at arm’s length for the past few months, the whole reason I pushed him away.
At least, that’s what I told myself.
But here, on the other side of the world, maybe I can admit that he’s a little bit right. A small part of me is still running away, and I have no idea how to stop.
I don’t hear from Nox for the next week. I’m not sure if he’s busy with Worlds, or if he’s giving me the space he thinks I want, or if maybe he’s just trying to force my hand—prodding me, goading me, the same way he did in the water.
You could have texted me.
Is that what he’s waiting for? Is that what he wants?
Orientation provides a decent distraction from the constant wondering.
The school arranged a weeklong Welcome to Australia program for all the marine biology exchange students before classes begin, complete with a day trip to snorkel the Great Barrier Reef, an hours-long hike through the rainforest, a kangaroo encounter at a nearby wildlife preserve, and tours of all the campus facilities.
I already know Michael, the other student from Swiftmore who was selected for this program, but there are twelve more exchange students to get to know from all around the world.
If I’m being honest, they’re intimidating as hell.
If my imposter syndrome was bad before, that’s nothing compared to being here, meeting them, listening to all their set goals for the future when I have no idea what I want beyond this next year in Australia.
My new roommate from the UK, Eleanor, already decided to pursue a PhD in coral reef restoration.
Lola, a girl from California, is helping her professor back home develop an AI program using soundscape analysis to distinguish healthy versus unhealthy reefs.
This boy Kai from Hawaii is planning to study ocean acidification.
He’s already been accepted into an accelerated master’s degree program next year.
They all seem to know exactly what they want, exactly where they’re going, while I’m paralyzed by the possibilities.
Maybe that’s why I finally give in to the urge to text Nox on the final night of orientation. He’s got a way of making me feel so much stronger, so much better about myself than I ever feel on my own.
How’s Budapest?
It takes him two hours to respond. I look up the time there. Noon. He’s probably just breaking for lunch.
Above-average aquatics facility.
And the rest?
Wouldn’t know. My hotel is two blocks away. That’s pretty much as far as I’ve gotten.
What?!
What about the museums? The churches? The restaurants!!!
I’ve got my whole life to tour Budapest. It can wait. Worlds are in three days.
But it’s RIGHT THERE. At least go out for some meals.
Eh. I don’t like to try new foods before a meet, especially rich food. I never know how it’ll sit with my stomach.
That makes sense, I guess. But I can’t imagine flying all the way to Europe just to swim in a pool and eat room service. It’s too depressing.
What about when you’re done racing?
…I’ll fly home?
NOX! Change your flight. Please. I beg you. Give yourself a day to enjoy the city, if only so I can live vicariously. Go for a boat ride down the Danube. Eat whatever the hell it is they eat in Budapest. Get out of your hotel.
I’ll think about it.
There is this fried dough pizza-looking thing called Langos I sort of want to try.
Yes! Go! Eat!
Chill.
How’s Australia?
Good.
Great!
I got to pet a koala.
I send him a photo to deflect, but it doesn’t work.
And?
I sigh. He always sees right through me.
And classes start tomorrow and I’m totally freaking out because everyone here has the next twenty years of their lives planned out, while I have no idea what I want to study or where I want to go after graduation.
Maybe that’s better. You’re going into this whole experience with an open mind.
Maybe.