Page 118 of Deep In Love
“Sure, bruja.” I kiss her temple.
I’m trying to keep my cool and not behave like a lunatic, but the muscles in my face are beginning to twitch.
“You’re freaking me out,” she whispers. “Why does your face look like that?”
What does she expect from me?
The woman I love is going to tell me she loves me back. I would say, given the circumstances, I am handling myself wonderfully.
“No reason.” I reach into my pocket. “Here. Chocolate. Eat.”
She shimmies as she devours the treat, turning back to the monitor and softly humming a tune I can now identify as a One Direction song.
The video grows hazy as the sunlight fades and darkness creeps in. The floodlights flash, illuminating heavy debris in the water.
“Oh…Marine snow,” Charlie mutters, inching closer to the screen. Jett elbows her, and she elaborates. “It’s biological debris that falls from the surface. A number of deep-sea organisms rely on it as a food source, like a—”
“Holy shitballs,” Jett yells as a rust-colored blob darts along the screen. “What is thatthing?”
It hovers in the water column, tentacles fanned out as its long filament collects marine snow and zooplankton to feed. Its massive eye faces the camera, giving the illusion the creature is staring at us. It’s unsettling.
“A vampire squid,” Charlie yells, “but the best part is it’s a faux moniker. It’s not a squid at all!”
“What is it, then?” Sofía asks.
“Squids belong in the cephalopod family with octopi,” I explain. “Vampire squids belong in a family of their own. They’re both mollusks, though.”
“And it doesn’t even eat live prey. It’s a detritivore,” Charlie adds.
“It eats dead organic material,” I translate for those in the room unfamiliar with the term, which is everyone but Charlie and me.
She’s an incredible scientist, but when she’s excited, she forgets other people don’t understand scientific vernacular.
It hovers in the water, barely moving, and once Vivian and Lucas are happy with the footage, they leave the creature behind. Jett and Charlie chit-chat about the vampire squid, and she lists off facts. The seafloor is riddled with anemones and basket stars, and Vivian slows the ROV, capturing as much video as possible on the final dive.
I scribble down the species I recognize with the timestamps and mark anything we need to rewatch the film to identify. Charlie is lost in conversation, abandoning her duties to giggle with Sofía.
“Please,” she begs, shaking Vivian’s shoulders, “just for a minute.Please.”
I’m too far away to hear Vivian’s response, but I see Charlie scrunch her nose and say, “I promise not to crash.”
Excitement dawns on Charlie’s face as Vivian rises from her chair and lets her sit down and take control of the ROV. Her feet pitter-patter beneath the control board, and she squeals when she alters the trajectory.
“Mateo,” she yells, her head swirling around until she finds me. “Get a photo.”
I pull out my phone and snap a few of her guiding the ROV, then immediately make it my screensaver, selecting the one where her face is contorted with glee.
Vivian kicks her out of the chair, and Charlie returns to my side, her cinnamon and menthol scent permeating in the air.
“That wasawesome,” she mutters, instantly wrapping her hand around my bicep like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Almost as natural as loving her.
Charlie guides me to the chairs on the far end of the deck, away from busybodies or unexpected guests. Our hands are interlaced, and I pretend not to notice her slight tremor when her grip loosens.
I could sayno need to be nervous, I’ve been in love with you for a long time, but that would ruin the fun.
The corner of the deck is quiet, and Charlie’s laid out blankets on a chair. When I reach the seat, she shoves me onto it with brutal force.
