Page 11 of Make Out With A Merman

And for a half-second, I wonder if I actually messed up.

Back on the dock, I towel off and try not to shiver while Julie hands me a band-aid shaped like a frog.

“Okay,” I admit, “maybe I should’ve vetoed the Kraken roleplay.”

“Maybe,” Julie says, trying not to smile. “But theylovedit.”

Ryder is drying his equipment with surgical precision. Not speaking to me.

I nudge him. “Hey. Look. No fatalities. Only mild soaking.”

“You flipped a canoe.”

“I was adding excitement to the lesson.”

“You added aliabilityto the lesson.”

I sigh. “You can’t control everything, you know.”

“I can damn well try.”

I pause. “You always like this?”

He glances at me. “Like what?”

“Tightly wound. Like if someone moved your clipboard an inch to the left, the world would implode.”

His voice drops. “That clipboard keeps kids alive.”

I stop.

Because that… that isn’t snark. That’s heavy.

Before I can ask more, Jason jumps between us like a game show host. “Aaaand the camper consensus is… Ryder gets an eight in performance, minus one for no smiles. Callie gets a solid ten, bonus point for yelling ‘I am a canoe witch!’ mid-capsize!”

“I did no such thing,” I lie.

“You 100% did,” Jason says, handing me a juice box.

Ryder walks off without another word, shoulders tight, tail flashing once as he hits the water.

I sip my juice. Apple grape. Definitely not worth almost drowning for, but hey points are points.

Later, after the kids are at dinner and I’m drying my backup clothes on a branch like a swamp raccoon, I spot Ryder by the lake, half-submerged, staring out at nothing.

I almost leave him there.

Almost.

But something about his silence makes my feet walk before my brain agrees.

“You good?” I ask, plopping down beside the rock he’s leaning on.

He doesn’t look at me. “Fine.”

“You mad about the flip?”

“Not mad,” he says, flat. “Just done.”

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