Even knowing what Dieter is. Even after everything that’s happened. I still feel those pre-date jitters. That coiling churning apprehensive knot in my gut. The sweaty palms. The irritation with my hair because it just won’t sit right. The pounding heart. It could be fear or excitement, I’m not quite sure.

After rifling through my closet. I found one of my old dresses from before I started dating Cameron. The dress is stiff, with creased lines running in a lightning pattern along the skirt. Too stubborn to be shaken out, so the iron is employed to smooth them out.

My reflection looks thinner than I remember, but it’s okay. The sleeves are a little loose, almost giving the illusion of bell sleeves, and the skirt swishes as I turn this way and that. Nervous. Excited.

Dieter is waiting at the bottom of the stairs. Eyes going wide and that blank expression returning as our eyes meet. They make a sound, a soft “oh” escaping them as they exhale. Dieter suddenly clears their throat and, just as I reach the last step, murmurs. “You look very pretty.”

For a split second, I feel like the main character in a prom movie.

“Are you ready to go?” They offer their arm like they’re a gentleman from that Victorian show on TV. But after a few moments, they clear their throat and quickly grab my jacket and hold it out.

“Thank you.” I take it and we finally leave. Getting in the car I suppress a laugh when Dieter double-checks my seatbelt before starting the car by tugging on it twice and muttering “click and hold safe”. They’ve done this every time we’ve been in a car together; It’s a habit that seems to be entirely theirs.

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere nice.” Dieter grins, that charming boyish grin that first drew me to Cameron. “You’ll see.”

The car rumbles around us, the buildings rushing past in a blur. Dieter pulls the car into a crowded parking lot, it’s full of cars and a few coaches. A huge blue concrete behemoth with a glass dome visible over the lip of the roof looms over the parking lot. The paint is chipped and faded in places, revealing lighter or darker blue paint beneath. A huge swathe of wall is hidden by a mural of an undersea coral reef. A fish shaped sign over the door reveals where Dieter has brought me.

The aquarium.

We join the line of people inside queueing for tickets and I can’t fight the smile on my face. I haven’t been to an Aquarium since I was a young girl.

This aquarium is just as busy as the one I went to with my parents for my eleventh birthday.

Families roam around us by the dozen, over-excitable kids, bored teens, a mix of tired and just as over-excitable parents. A gaggle of teens with oversized backpacks crowd around two very tired clipboard-wielding adults. Three spritely nurses each shepherd a flock of elderly patients from the local nursing home. While we stand in line, another influx of school children following their teacher like ducklings come marching in.

Queueing is a crowded affair; Dieter stands close with their arm hovering around my back. All three of the front desk cashiers print tickets as fast as possible. There’s an expectant energy in the air. The speaker on the wall announces that the next dolphin show starts in five minutes. A bright green poster advertises selfies with the axolotl. Another poster on the wall advertises breakfast with the seals, the next feeding session is in thirty minutes.

“I thought you might like to feed the seals again.” Dieter’s voice is soft as they offer me a ticket with a blue stripe on the end. A plain white ticket is held in their other hand close to their chest.

Dieter rests a hand on my back as we walk through the barrier and down the corridor into the aquarium proper. They let go as soon as we’re through. My stomach twists, I miss the brief touch of warmth.

We meander around the tanks of tropical fish for fifteen minutes, um-ing and ah-ing at the brightly coloured fish until Dieter checks their watch and suddenly perks up.

“Eloise. It’s time. Come on.”

Their excitable grin is infectious, their hand firm as it pulls mine along.

Two professional seal handlers wait to greet the small group of lucky blue stripe ticket holders.

“I’ll be waiting here for you.” Dieter pushes me to join them.

The seals are just like I remembered, except smaller, or maybe I’m bigger. They poke their heads out of the water, big dark eyes blinking up at us innocently. Snapping up a fish and then falling back beneath the water.

A large seal flops out of the water onto the ledge, looking up at me expectantly. I toss it a fish. It catches it.

Another seal flops up onto the ledge and demands the same with a toss of their head. The fish bounces off its snout and it falls back into the water after it.

I laugh.

The handlers lead some of the seals in swimming through hoops to catch fish. While we clap and cheer them on. Then finally, when the fish runs out, breakfast time is officially over.

Dieter is exactly where I had left them, leaning against the wall just outside the enclosure.

“Did you like it?” They spring up straight as I draw close. Arm hovering around me as we start walking through the rest of the marine water exhibits. Always hovering, never quite touching.

Brightly coloured fish of all shapes and sizes swim in tanks filled with coral and fake castles and tunnels. Blue light casts everything in a rippling haze as we walk through a glass tunnel. Little signs dotted around the tanks advertise the answers to a riddle hunt the hordes of schoolchildren running around are filling in on clipboards.

As we stop beside a tank, one sign catches my eye. A sudden idea springs to mind. “Can you do that?”

“What?”

I look up at Dieter and point at the brightly-coloured sign, right at the text stating Octopi can camouflage next to the image of the multi-colored cartoon octopus happily peering out from a jar. “Can you do that? Change colour.”

Dieter looks at the sign for several intense moments before they look at me with a wry grin. Brows furrowed and shifting from foot to foot. “Really?”

I nod. I want to know what they can do … and I don’t want to be scared anymore.

They look at the sign again. Nose wrinkling in the most adorable way before they look around us, eyes flicking over the school group and the elderly couple nearby. Dieter steps closer to me and hesitantly holds their arm out between us, tugging their sleeve back with a furtive motion.

Their face goes blank. The skin of their forearm ripples almost imperceptibly before it starts to swirl. No, it’s what’s beneath the skin that’s moving. There’s fluid, rippling and changing colour beneath their skin, that same silvery substance I had briefly seen that night. At first it turns the colour of a fresh bruise, but then it turns a deeper blue with a single yellow ring. The colours are so vibrant. It’s mesmerizing.

Hesitantly, I reach out to touch their arm. Their skin is solid and warm, not spongy or slimy like the shimmer of the liquid beneath makes it look like it should be.

I quickly pull my hand back as they gasp. The light casts a rainbow streak on that strange liquid beneath their dermis for just a moment, and then the skin is as it was before.

Dieter quickly pulls their sleeve down. The faintest dusting of pink on their cheeks.

We both move out of the way of another gaggle of kids.

A cough pulls my gaze back up to theirs. Silver eyes trained on my hand with predatory intensity. Dieter’s hand is held out, the back of his brushing my wrist.

“Can I hold your hand?” The plea is soft. Barely heard under the din of the crowds around us.

I slowly open my hand, accepting the invitation. Reaching out for them in return. Dieter’s hand almost completely envelops mine.

It’s warm.