Page 4

Leah

Maxine always had a knack for standing out in a crowd, but here she stuck out like a sore thumb. Her bright yellow dress swished around her knees, and her hair was done up with hundreds of little clips and doodads.

With a full face of makeup and those god-awful pumps, she was significantly overdressed for the occasion, fiddling with her visitor's card hanging from the lanyard around her neck.

She trailed behind me as I dipped out of the stream of bodies and headed toward the warded section of the rehabilitation tanks, big brown eyes darting from the iridescent marine life to the faded informational displays.

Through the staff-only gate, we hiked the damp concrete stairs to the seal enclosure, where Rachel, a fellow conservationist, was coaxing a seal pup over with a handful of pilchards.

The distinct scent of brine tickled my throat as I sloshed my way through ankle-deep water, avoiding the steep dropoff into deeper pools to my left.

Maxine hesitated behind me, eyeing the threshold like it might bite her.

I could see her trying to mask her discomfort with what I suppose was meant to be a pleasant smile, but the delicate wrinkle of her nose gave her away.

“Is it always this… fragrant?” God bless her, she sounded genuinely concerned.

“It’s not so bad once you get used to it.” Rachel chuckled ahead of me, tossing another shimmering pilchard to the pup before angling her chin at Maxine. “You a friend of Leah’s?”

“Something like that,” I muttered when Maxine opened her mouth, dropping into a crouch and plunging my hand into the nearby bucket of fish guts. “More of an acquaintance, really.”

Maxine harrumphed from her post at the threshold and I cocked my head in her direction. “Are you coming in or are you just going to stand there?”

She glanced down at the shallow water pooling over the slick floor, then at her pristine shoes. Her lips pressed into a line, and she huffed. “You didn’t say anything about wading. These are suede , Leah.”

I rolled my eyes, tossing some fishy mulch to a frolicking seal at the far end of the pool. “Then take them off, princess.”

Maxine scowled, but she kicked off her pumps and picked them up, holding them delicately between her pinched fingers. She tiptoed forward, wincing as her bare feet splashed into the cold water, glaring at me like her ridiculous choice of footwear was somehow my fault.

“Good job,” I drawled, turning my attention back to Rachel. She was kneeling at the edge of the pool, gently stroking the hide of another small, gray seal pup who had flopped onto his side, waving his flippers in lazy arcs.

“He’s friendly, at least.” Rachel glanced up at me, expression drawn. “But he still won’t eat. I’ve tried everything – hand- feeding, syringe-feeding, even a fish smoothie. He turns his nose up every time.”

“Hey, buddy.” I crouched beside her, reaching out to run a hand along the pup’s slick, smooth coat.

He tilted his head toward me, round onyx eyes bright and curious.

“What’s going on with you?” The little seal flopped onto his back, exposing his belly, and gave an enthusiastic wave of his flippers. “Well, at least he’s not shy.”

Rachel nodded, but her expression was worried. “It might be stress. He’s been through a lot – entanglement injuries, dehydration. Poor little guy’s had a rough start.”

I sighed, gently inspecting the pup’s flippers for signs of irritation or swelling. “He looks okay physically, but if he doesn’t start eating soon…”

Rachel nodded grimly. “We’ll have to intervene more aggressively.”

From the corner of my eye, I noticed Maxine edging closer, still clutching her shoes. Her expression was curious, albeit a little wary, her brow furrowed as she watched the pup wriggle around.

“Maxine. Want to say hello?”

Her eyes widened and she took a step back, churning water around her ankles. “Me? Oh no, I don’t think– ”

“He won’t bite,” I coaxed, beckoning her closer and shoving the smelly fish bucket out of the way.

Maxine hesitated, then slowly crept forward, squatting awkwardly a few feet away with her skirts hiked up past her knees. “Uh… Hi, there.”

The pup sneezed in response, a small snot bubble bobbing at its nose, before he yawned and splayed out in the shallow water. I braced for a swift expression of disgust from Maxine, but instead her face lit up with delight.

She shuffled closer, balancing her shoes in her lap, and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear – cocking her head to the side, mouth agape in an ecstatic grin.

And I… stared. It was like catching a glimpse of the Maxine I used to know, the one who would show up on my doorstep unannounced with a picnic blanket and a telescope at her back, and haul me to the rooftop to watch the stars.

“So… just an acquaintance?” Rachel whispered, her voice low and teasing in my ear.

I blinked once, heat rushing to my face, and shot her a glare. Rachel only shrugged and made a show of thoroughly examining the bucket of pilchards, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.

Then the pup whacked his flippers down in the shallow water, showering all three of us with salty brine, and whatever spell it had cast over Maxine broke with immediate effect.

“Ugh!” she yelped, shaking her hands out like that would somehow undo the damage and turning an exasperated expression on me. “Why is everything here so wet ?”

I let out a shaky laugh, one wary eye on Rachel who snorted behind her bucket.

When she recovered from the salty jumpscare, Maxine shifted her weight, crouching a little more comfortably now, though she still eyed the pup like it might suddenly launch itself at her. “So… what happens to him when he’s better? I mean, you’re not just keeping him here, are you?”

“No, he’s only here for rehab.” I adjusted my crouch and lifted the pup's flipper to continue my inspection. “We treat their injuries, help them regain their strength, and then release them back into the ocean where they belong.”

Maxine tilted her head, curls tumbling out where her hair clips had slipped loose. “And he’ll just… be okay out there? After everything?”

“That’s the goal,” I said, shrugging. “It’s not always a perfect outcome, but we do everything we can to give them a fighting chance. Life in the open ocean can be tough, but these guys are tough too.”

She frowned, her gaze dropping back to the little guy as he lolled rather dramatically under my fingers. “What if he doesn’t want to leave? He seems to like it here.”

I chuckled, gesturing over the pup as he waved his flipper again, clearly enjoying the attention. “He’s just soaking up the spa treatment while he can. Trust me, when he’s ready, he’ll be happy to get back out there. And we’ll make sure he has the best shot at a good life.”

Maxine’s lips pressed together, brows cinching thoughtfully. Then she glanced at me, her expression softening in a way that made my chest tighten. “You really care about this, don’t you?”

“Of course I do.” The words came out a little sharper than I intended and I looked away, focusing on the pup. “It’s not just about the seals. It’s about fixing what we’ve broken, you know? Giving back. Helping, not hurting.”

There was a long pause, and I could feel her eyes on me, but I refused to look up. Finally, she said, “That’s… good. Really good. The world could use more of that.”

I risked a glance at her and was surprised to find her smiling – not her usual polished, preppy smile, but something smoother, almost wistful.

“Thanks,” I murmured, feeling suddenly awkward and keenly aware of the flush in my cheeks.

In the extended silence that followed, Rachel sighed with emphasis, slapping her knees as she hauled herself upright. “Well, my lunch break is coming up so I’ll leave you two to it. Nice meeting you, Maxine.”

I had never pinned Rachel as meddlesome, but the wink she gave me on her way out said otherwise, and I made a note to find her later and reiterate that there was nothing going on between Maxine and me – so she could kindly butt out .

Maxine watched her go, waving cheerily before turning to me. “She seems nice.”

I sloshed the fish bucket and debated dumping the contents in Rachel’s locker. “She’s a busybody.”

By the time we were done with the inspection the aquarium had quietened down, the school groups and tourists trickling out as the afternoon stretched onward.

Maxine and I found ourselves wandering the chilly halls, trailing past the glowing tanks and their undulating inhabitants. The water cast rippling blue light across the walls, across the high set of her cheekbones, and it was an effort not to stare.

Despite the serene surroundings, tension thickened the air between us. It wasn’t as suffocating as our first meeting had been, our time with the seals had thawed some of the ice, but it was still there, lingering like a storm cloud in the distance. Heavy with everything that had been left unsaid.

I glanced sideways at Maxine. She looked so out of place here, her bright yellow dress, stained and stiff with seawater, standing in stark contrast to the subdued blues and greens of the exhibits.

But what struck me most was how unchanged she looked – same flawless skin, same delicate features, same glossy curls.

Her looks had changed on a superficial level – her hair color, her style – but time hadn’t quite touched her. And for some reason, that only made the tangled knot of resentment in my chest coil tighter.

“You know, I didn’t think you’d actually come,” I murmured eventually.

Maxine raised an eyebrow. “Why? You thought I’d be too squeamish for seals?”

“Something like that.” I smiled half-heartedly but it slid off my face a moment later. “You always were a bit… particular.”

She laughed softly and fluffed out her skirt. “Still am, apparently. My dress is going to need a proper burial after today.”

“Your sacrifice is commendable.”

We stopped in front of a large tank, the shimmering fish darting back and forth behind the glass that stretched from floor to ceiling. Maxine folded her arms and tilted her head back, a faraway look in her clouded eyes. I watched her for a moment, the question teetering on the tip of my tongue.

“Why did you come, Maxine?”

She blinked like I’d startled her. “You gave me your number.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she turned back to the tank, watching the fish with an intensity that felt forced.

I flexed my fingers, that small kernel of anger peppering my words with heat. “You disappeared. No explanation, no warning. Just… gone. And now, years later, you think you can waltz back into my life like nothing happened.”

“I didn’t waltz,” she muttered, but there was no humor in her tone.

I ignored her quip. “Do you know how that feels? Do you even care?”

She flinched, her fingers tightening on the sleeve of her jacket.

Her lips parted and I tensed. I waited for her to finally say something – finally explain – but all she did was shake her head, exhaling her words with a sigh. “I do care, Leah. More than you know.”

“Then why? ” The question slipped out before I could stop it, sharp tone cleaving through the quiet space. “Why did you leave? Why didn’t you tell me what was going on?”

Maxine hesitated, her knuckles whitening.

“I – couldn’t,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Why not?” I edged closer, one step in front of the other, until we were practically nose-to-nose.

“Because it wasn’t safe.” Her voice trembled slightly on that last word and something awful twisted in my gut.

“Safe?” I echoed, frowning. “You were my best friend, Maxine. If I’d known you were in some kind of trouble I would’ve – ”

“Would’ve what? ” she interrupted, her voice rising, pinging off the glass tank and reeling around the room. “Risked your own neck? Your grandfather’s? Gotten involved in something you couldn’t have possibly understood?”

Her words hit me like a slap, and I stepped back, stunned.

“You – you never let me in.” I stuttered the words out after a beat, my voice shaking now. “Not really. You always came to my place, always had some excuse for why I couldn’t come over. And I was too stupid to realize it wasn’t just ‘bad timing’. You didn’t trust me. Hell, you were ashamed of me.”

Maxine opened her mouth, then closed it again. “It wasn’t like that,” she said weakly.

“Then what was it like?” I demanded, lifting my chin, daring her to meet my gaze.

She didn’t answer. Her eyes darted to mine, then away again. “I can’t explain it.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

She didn’t respond, and the silence stretched between us. I stepped back, shaking my head. “You know what? Forget it.”

“Leah–”

“No,” I spat, cutting her off. “I don’t know why I thought this would be different. You’re still keeping secrets, Maxine. And I’m still paying the price.”

Her face crumpled, and for a moment, I almost felt guilty. Almost.

“I’m trying.” Her voice cracked, and the vulnerability in that note made my chest ache. But that kernel of anger was a roaring fire now, years of pent-up emotions going up in smoke.

“Try harder.”

I turned away, focused on the fish tank, but my mind was churning, seething. Wondering how the fuck were we supposed to bridge this yawning chasm between us.