Mikayla kept her word. Every day, after her classes and study sessions, she’d get on her bike and speed away from the bustling college life to visit Beau at the beach. 

She knew she was acting like a foolish, sick-with-love teenager, but she couldn’t stop. He was like a drug and her addiction to him only grew with every passing day. 

The week of finals, however, was hectic for all college students, including Mikayla. The skin under her eyes turned from silky porcelain to dark and seemingly bruised from her lack of sleep and her diet turned into one consisting almost exclusively of caffeine in several horrid forms. 

Sometimes, she’d fall asleep then and there on the beach, her face never fully relaxing as she dreamed of the fucking Pythagorean Theorem. 

These days quickly became Beau’s favorite because he could just lay beside her and watch the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest, so much like the push and pull of the ocean’s tides. 

With his chin propped on his hands, he’d lay on the sand beside Mikayla and watch as the shadows beneath her lashes slowly, slowly retracted, though never fully vanishing. 

Beau would sing softly beside her, watching the wind play with her hair and the sand settle to take in her form and mold to her shape. Though he didn’t know, his songs eased the manic student’s dreams significantly. 

On her last day of finals, Mikayla rode to the edge of the forest and leaned her bike against the tree she so often used for this purpose, a little notch had been carved to take in the right side handle. She was buzzing with anxiety, love, and three highly caffeinated espressos. 

“Beau,” she called out into the night air. 

She was later than usual, having gotten caught up with Rae and Parker in the library, cramming one last time before going to sleep. Mikayla, of course, wasn’t actually in her bed. 

“Over here, Mikayla!” she heard Beau call from the softest patch of sand the beach could offer. 

He had quickly learned of her exhaustion and always met her here so that she could get comfortable and sleep for fucking once. 

“I missed you,” she said as she leisurely walked over to him and set herself down on the sand, spreading her bent legs around him with her elbows resting on her knees. 

“I missed you, too,” he said, stretching his neck up to gently press their lips together. 

To him, she always tasted sweet and, now more than before, bitter with coffee (though he didn’t know what coffee was yet). 

To her, he tasted like the salty ocean water but just like home at the same time. 

And as he kissed her, she felt herself leaning forward, her hands coming up to cradle his jaw of their own volition. His skin was always soft, almost slippery under her fingers as if he was covered in miniscule, imperceptible scales. 

That would explain why he always seems to shine and why his skin is never damp, Mikayla thought to herself as they finally broke away. 

“Have I ever told you,” Mikayla said suddenly, “your eyes look just like the ocean?” 

“What?” Beau asked, chuckling incredulously. 

“Yeah,” Mikayla replied with a nod, tilting Beau’s head so that the rays from the setting sun shone across his bright eyes. “And they sparkle just like the water, too. I feel like I could swim in them.” 

Beau let out a nervous laugh. “No one’s… ever said anything like that to me before.” 

“Really? What do you mean?” Mikayla asked, leaning back to study Beau’s eyes again. 

Beau shrugged, trying his hardest not to move his head lest he jostle Mikayla’s hands on his face. “I don’t know, I’ve never thought about it. We all just… have the same eyes.” 

His words clicked a whole new realization into Mikayla’s mind. Of course there were more than just him and his mother, duh, she thought to herself. 

“Well, anyway,” Mikayla said, finally releasing Beau’s face, much to his dissatisfaction. “How about we go out tomorrow? Properly?” 

Beau blinked twice. “What do you mean? We are outside,” he said, confused. 

“Oh, right, well,” Mikayla said, mentally smacking herself in the face for her own stupidity. “Humans refer to dates as ‘going out’. Basically, I’m asking you on a proper date. You… do know what a date is, right?” 

“It’s when two people are in a courtship, right?” Beau asked, tilting his head to the side in question. 

“Well… yeah, I guess,” Mikayla said, scooting herself over on the sand to situate herself partially behind Beau. 

At his confused expression, she gave him a gentle nudge to turn him away from her. Though he was sad to lose sight of her tired yet beautiful face, he abided. 

“So what do you think?” Mikayla asked as her fingers ran through Beau’s hair and prepped three strands for the start of a dutch braid. “Wanna go out and do something… I don’t know, romantic?” 

“Sure!” Beau said with a smile as Mikayla’s fingers began to skillfully weave a braid into his hair, integrating the pearls into the knots. “What are some things that you humans find romantic?” 

Mikayla shrugged out of habit. “I dunno. Going to fancy restaurants, buying candy for each other, bringing flowers…” 

She trailed off, her mind drifting to her past relationships, mainly the one where she had always tried to initiate these romantic occasions and he had always shut her down. 

But she shook her head because that was the past, and Beau wasn’t like that. 

“And shit like that, what about you?” she asked, quickly diverting the topic of conversation away from herself. 

“Oh, well,” Beau said with a sigh, bunching and relaxing his shoulders, “for us, we show our affection through pearls. That’s why I have all these strands.” 

At this, Mikayla’s hands faltered. This many? Are these all from his ex-girlfriends or something? 

Sensing her sudden wariness, Beau quickly added, “These are all from my parents and siblings and friends. Oh, and a few from my mentors, too, though mainly just my family.” 

Immediately, Mikayla relaxed. Which didn’t make any fucking sense because she’d dated other people before and it shouldn’t matter that Beau probably had, too. They were the same age, after all, so it wouldn’t be surprising. 

It was silent for a while longer as Mikayla tied up Beau’s first braid and turned to begin the second one. 

“Would you like pearls?” Beau asked out of nowhere. 

“Oh, uh…” Mikayla said, her fingers flying through Beau’s hair, careful to weave the pearl strands with delicacy so as not to pull his hair too taut. “I- yes?” 

“Great!” Beau said, his voice bubbly with held back excitement. In his mind, he was already compiling a list of all the best oyster patches that were known for their pearls. And maybe, just maybe, he could get that pearl… But out loud, he just said, “I’ll bring them for you tomorrow! For our human out-going!” 

Mikayla laughed, both at his enthusiasm and also at his butchered use of human slang. 

“Yes, I look forward to it,” Mikayla said with a smile as she tied off Beau’s second braid. “But… are you even able to do human things?” 

Beau frowned, slowly turning as he felt Mikayla’s hands drop away. Once sure that she had finished with his hair, he turned fully to face her, propped up on a hand. 

“I’m not quite sure,” he told her, “but I think so. I’ll need to ask my dad.” 

“Alright,” Mikayla said with an unsure nod. “Just… be careful?” 

“With my dad?” Beau said with a confused expression. 

“No, with… ah, nevermind,” Mikayla dismissed. 

She just told herself not to worry about it. Yet, at least. 

They spent the rest of the evening ‘frolicking in the waves,’ as Mikayla often described to her roommates. She never told who she was with, of course, because in what world would they believe her? 

But that didn’t matter. 

Eventually, however, they had to part once more. As the sun slowly faded from sight, trading off light with the moon, the sky steadily grew dark. 

With sad smiles and promises to see each other again the next morning, the two separated. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Mikayla called as she mounted her bike. 

“When the tide is highest,” Beau replied. 

Mikayla made a mental note to look up what time that would be as she sped away with a last wave. Behind her, Beau stretched as tall as he could, waving and trying to keep her in his sights as long as possible. 

At her dorm, the hems of her jeans and sweater still dripping saltwater, Mikayla was searching up the time of the tides. 

High tide at 7:41am. 

With this knowledge, Mikayla stripped her sea-soaked clothes from her body and leapt into bed. The quicker she went to bed, the quicker time would seem to pass for her.