Page 69

Goodness gracious, what ishappeningto me? Why is this starting to feel like… like…

Like the start of a crush.

Ha! No!Absolutely not. A storm of silent laughter surges through my thoughts. That is absurd.

This is Quint Erickson. He is so not my type. He is the polar opposite of my type.

Okay, I’m not entirely sure what my type is, but I do know it is nothim.

“Ready?” Quint pulls on his goggles, and I’m grateful that my internal hysteria is brought to a screeching halt. I must look confused, because he takes my goggles away from me and adjusts the mouth tube attachment. “Like this,” he says, pulling the strap on over my head, stretching the band so that it fits under my ponytail. I hold my breath until his hands fall away and I’m left to adjust the goggles so they fit snug, forming a seal around my eyes. “Then this part goes in your mouth—not over it, but inside your lips, okay? Then all you need to do is keep this end out of the water. And that’s it.” He grins again, before sliding the mouthpiece between his lips, making them puff out. Making him look ridiculous.

He tips forward and pushes off into the water, floating at the surface, the tube puncturing the air beside his ear.

“Get it together, Prudence,” I whisper, before stuffing the piece into my mouth. It feels awkward, the plastic pushing uncomfortably against my gums.

Okay. I just have to get this over with and move on with my day. Quint will be satisfied, he won’t have to yell at me about being “a team” anymore, and we can get started on the real work.

I walk out until the waves are up to my chest before leaning over and putting my face in the water.

It takes some mental coaching to persuade my body to inhale, and I keep checking that the other end of the tube is still out of the water. But after the first few breaths, it gets easier, despite every instinct reminding me that breathing underwater is not natural.

I peer into the depths.

I see… me.

My legs, looking ghastly pale and tinged sea-foam green.

My swimsuit—solid black.

My bright-pink-polished toes being covered up with drifts of sand.

I turn in a circle, noticing a handful of shells scattered across the seabed.

It’s… pretty. Serene. I like how the light filtering through the water casts swirls around the—

Oh holy shish kebab!

I spit out my mouth piece and scream, back-paddling my arms. My head pops out of the water.

“Quint!”

He’s at least thirty feet away. His head snaps up and he tugs out his mouthpiece. “Yeah?”

“Come here! Fast!”

He doesn’t ask questions, just starts swimming toward me with perfect front-crawl arm strokes, as opposed to the awkward doggy paddle I consider to be my specialty.

“Look, look, look!” I say, latching on to his arm and pointing. Still wearing the goggles, he ducks his head into the water. I pop my mouthpiece back in and join him, clutching his arm, because as excited as I am, I’m also a little scared.

He sees it, too.

A sea turtle, hunkered down on the ocean floor. It’senormous.At least four feet wide, unless that’s a trick of the water and the light. If it knows we’re here, it’s ignoring us.

Quint meets my eye under the water and we share a mutual, awed grin. At least, I’m in awe. His smile is something more akin totold you so.

I’m not sure what he thinks he told me, though.

Quint lifts his head up out of the water. I follow suit, only then realizing that he didn’t have his mouthpiece in. He takes a minute to catch his breath, but he’s beaming.