Page 25
Story: The Unfinished Line
“I have it on good authority they make exceptions forAlmostMarine Biologists.”
I tilted my head, raising an eyebrow. “Apparently I’m not the only one who remembers random bits of conversation.”
Throwing her arm around my shoulders, she drew me toward the landing. “Trust me, I remember everything about that evening,” she said, her lips close to my ear, before knocking on the door.
Every hair on my neck stood up at the whispered admission, but I wasn’t granted time to dwell on it as a million-year-old man appeared at the threshold.
“You came!” His wrinkled face transformed into a boyish grin when he spied Dillon, and he threw the door wide open. “And you brought your friend! Come in, come in!”
We were ushered into the aquarium—small, by the standards of the world-class aquariums I had grown up with—but it was clean and the animals well cared for. I learned quickly we weren’t there for casual browsing, but instead Dillon had volunteered us to help “tuck-in” the marine life, assisting the caretakers as they prepared the animals for bedtime. It was a program, Roger—our guide—explained, exclusively offered over the summer months, but when Dillon had stopped by earlier, she’d convinced him to make an exception.
“She can be very charming, this one,” he wagged a knotted finger toward Dillon, winking at me with one of his diluted blue eyes. “And you’re very pretty, so I can see why.”
I laughed at his compliment, very aware of Dillon’s eyes on me as we were walked through the nightly routine.
“Do you always go to this much effort for pre-dinner-entertainment?” I asked, half an hour later when we’d been left on our own to drop a dinner of clams into the tank of a Caribbean Reef octopus named Sid. “A drive along the most scenic road in Maui, a hike to the top of a hill created by a god, now—this,” I twirled my finger to indicate the sea life around us.
Dillon shrugged, holding out the bucket for me to grab another clam. “Are you having fun?”
I couldn’t begin to hide the ridiculousness of my goofy smile as I watched Sid’s bright green arms swoop in on his sinking meal.
Her lips flickered at the corners of her mouth. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
For another hour, we schlepped croaker fish and snappers to nurse sharks, skimmed a cleaning net through a tank of Moray eels, and, to my utter delight, found ourselves entirely soaked after helping the aquarium veterinarian scrub the backs of Lola and Hector—the resident sea turtles.
“I didn’t even know this was on my bucket list,” I laughed, leaning my head close to Dillon’s as Erika—the veterinarian—offered to take our photo. We were still on our knees, just finishing washing the algae from Lola’s shell.
“I may have been wrong about you,” Dillon said, after we’d thanked Roger and waved our goodbyes, heading out the door. “Marine biology might have suited you perfectly.”
We stopped in front of the building adjacent to the aquarium, the hokey facade resembling a high school theatre backdrop advertising theKey West Shipwreck Museum. With the sun having set, the building was locked up tight, the surrounding area vacant after all the tourists had disappeared to the nightlife down by the ocean.
“I can’t believe we just did that.” I wrung out the hem of my tank top, salt water dripping onto my tennis shoes. “I can’t believe you arranged that,” I looked up, “for me.”
She didn’t say anything, just leaned against the figure of a peg-legged man who looked like he’d been stolen from the set ofPirates of the Caribbean. In the distance, the music pounded into the night, reverberating from the Mallory Square party.
I wanted to kiss her. I mean, I’d been thinking about it since I stepped off the plane. Okay, fine, since I steppedonthe plane. Not the prop plane. The plane from Maui. Over two weeks ago. I’d been thinking about it while L.R. Sims assured Waylon MacArthur I was pretty, but nottoopretty. And while Sophie and I devised a ludicrous plan for me to fly to Florida. And yet again while I tossed anchovies into the barracuda exhibit and watched as the enormous slender bodies swept up from the coral reef to snap up their supper.
I wanted to, and yet, I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
It sounds absolutely stupid, but I didn’t know how. Carter I would have simply stepped forward and kissed. The way I had when I’d pursued him my Freshman year in gym class. The way I’d kissed a dozen or more boys during all the times Carter and I had been “taking a break.”
But for some reason, with Dillon, I couldn’t do it. Maybe, because, out of all those boys, not one of them had made me feel like this. Like I was suspended, walking along the tightropes with the acrobats performing in the square. Like I was floating, weightless through the water, as buoyant as the moon jellyfish in the aquarium tank. Yet also as frozen, as incapable, as the inanimate pirate grinning down at us from the museum display.
Dani had once told me, when she first met Tom, he made her insides ache.
I’d chalked the sentiment up to a silly cliché. But now, standing there in the dark, paralyzed in place, I knew exactly what she’d meant.
But amidst the desire—the newfound longing I’d discovered—was also the underlying discomfort of uncertainty. That was something, I was sure, Dani had not had to face.
She could fall in love with Tom, marry Tom, spend her life with Tom, without a single eyebrow lifted. Well, other than Darlene Hallwell’s gross initial fit when she’d discovered hisfather was Mexican. That aside—Tom was idyllic. Educated, handsome, hardworking. Sure to be worth ten figures before he turned thirty.
But, obviously, more than anything, Tom was, well—a man.
I’d spent the last two weeks analyzing my feelings. I’d reached what I felt was a solid acceptance of the fact that I’d developed a crush on a woman. I’d convinced myself it didn’t bother me. Queer, after all, was practically the new normal. So why, suddenly, did I find myself so nervous? Why, in the fleeting moments she’d held my hand in the aquarium, had I worried if anyone else was watching?
That wasn’t me. I’d never cared what anyone else thought.
I was being ridiculous.
Table of Contents
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