Read Get Wrecked :: Chapter 18

Rhea turned off the vibrations on her phone. A patch of overgrown jimsonweed threatened to swallow the sign for The Juicy Scoop, a mediocre ice cream and smoothie shop. How it stayed open since she was in grade school was a local legend- no one knew for sure, but the prevailing stories were that the owner sacrificed his soul to Cthulhu, or there was a secret off-menu meth flavor keeping the lights on each winter. It was the type of thing Tristan loved. Conspiracy theories and knives. But he needed to know things she couldn’t quite tell him yet.

Hazel followed behind, keeping a close eye on Rhea. Of course Maddy had let her go off on a “date.” More time to deface the old signs. Not the one that said “No Swimming-” no, that one was newer. Too important. The ones that held fragments of the old rules, bleached by the sun and sandblasted in the wind. They weren’t needed anymore, so they became a platform to beg for help in neon spray paint. Help for the city. Help for neighboring towns. Help for the economy. Help for the mermaids- though Hazel never found that one quite as effective as it was trendy. Of course, no one had the heart to break the news- no government cared about graffiti.

Her head hurt. The stink of the bay lingered in the air, not fully dissipating until she set foot in the ice cream parlor. Rhea hadn’t said much on their walk, and her fixation with her phone was kind of irritating. Not that her own wasn’t buzzing in her pocket. She checked it quickly before setting it down on the table. Four texts from Tristan. Eight texts from Iggy. A photo from Maddy. It was probably very detailed penis street art. Not a thing to look at while eating.

She went to order first while Rhea sat at the table and pecked at her phone screen. Taffy-cheesecake ice cream was an unusual option, but she settled for a twist. When Rhea ordered, she went for the prize- taffy-cheesecake with hot fudge, marshmallows, caramel and whipped cream. Hazel made a mental note to never ask about her favorite desserts.

“Know what type of shark that was?” Rhea asked, sitting down with her treat.

Hazel slouched over the table hoping the change in posture would alleviate her headache. “Sand tiger. They don’t eat people,” she answered. “Did you know?”

Rhea smiled and glanced from her phone, to Hazel, then to the ice cream, and back in a loop. “I’ve seen some before, but never looked up the name.”

Hazel raised an eyebrow playfully. “And that they won’t eat you…?”

Rhea laughed just a bit. “Of course I knew that!”

Hazel rested her head on one of her hands. Elbows on the table were a rule no one cared about anyway. Usually casual swimmers didn’t see nocturnal bottom feeders, so Rhea had shared something interesting. “Where do you dive?”

Her eyes went wide. “How would you…?” A chipped manicure slid under her chin in surprise before she got it. “Oh, you’d know I dive from… That makes sense.” Hazel hadn’t seen her around in the scuba social sphere, not that she’d expect to. It was a big ocean and almost no one dove the local spots. There was nothing to see, and a few too many deadly accidents made casual dives unpopular.

Rhea scooped far too much ice cream into her mouth gleefully. “I like the ships around here. Aside from that I was in Maine once, but I don’t remember much. It was kind of a fluke.” She tapped the table with her nails while her face scrunched like fabric coming out of a washing machine. Brain freeze. When she could focus again, she questioned Hazel. “Do you dive?”

It was a bit of an awkward question for Hazel. She was on her way to becoming a diver. The class wasn’t far off on her summer schedule. Her experience was limited to training in a swimming pool so far. She’d watched every recording and seen every picture available from the most popular locations nearby. There was Triton’s Pride, an old fishing vessel she never remembered the name of, and a mysterious blob alleged to be a submarine. Or proof of Atlantis. To Hazel, it looked like a regular lump at the bottom of the sea. “I’m not certified yet.”

Rhea cocked her head. “Then how would you know what kind of sharks I’ve seen? Or that they’re really so safe?” The plastic spoon between her lips seemed to smile with her.

Hazel played with some hair falling in front of her face. It distracted her from her headache. “I trust the statistics. Sand tigers have no fatalities and barely any attacks in recorded history.”

Rhea leaned in close to her face. “Are you sure?” She whispered in a teasing tone. “What if you just look tasty?” Chomping a spoonful of ice cream like a shark, she assumed she’d made an impression. Maybe flirting was a bit too far, but nothing else was stirring her up. It wasn’t dishonest either- the more time they spent together, the more she could imagine them sneaking around the islands offshore, under the stars, undetected by a world that can’t imagine anyone swimming that far. Remembering the last time she had those thoughts, she forced them out of her mind.

As Hazel forced her head farther into her palms, it became apparent she hadn’t even gotten her attention. No surprise why anymore- she was competing with a migraine.

The old woman at the counter always carried a little medicine in her purse. That had been a lucky miracle. Calling Hazel’s biker friend, that took a few minutes. After the meds began to kick in, Rhea pushed her through the process of unlocking her phone and pulled up the contact for her. She ignored that the profile photo showed the blond chomping down on a very graphic bachelorette party cookie and made the call while Hazel pawed at her temples. When Maddy showed up to collect her, there was a concerned half hug. She spoke softly to her friend, escorted her out.

Watching them reminded Rhea what she had to do. She sat next to the overgrown plants outside to review all her messages from Tristan. It was a lot. He’d been worried. She held her breath to do what needed to be done- tell him anything.

<Hey> The message sent. There was no taking it back, not that she needed to. There was nothing in it yet- just proof she was alive. The really hard part would come next.

<I’m ok> <I got lost>

Both sent and read. Little dots at the bottom of the screen confirmed it.

Rhea couldn’t smile- she knew she was going to have to talk about the tests. About the strange ship. About suddenly being in Maine.

He sent a thumbs up emoji. That sealed the deal. Tristan would be coming to visit very soon. She would get all the angsty stuff over with. Then they would sneak off somewhere before he had to go back to his father’s house. Most of the time, that somewhere was an out-of-business campsite no longer maintained by whoever owned it- either the government or a bank. It made Darleen crazy because in her mind, they were secretly dating.