Page 84 of Sharkbait
“Yeah. Guy acted like the ocean was his own personal dude ranch.”
I shake my head at the stupidity and feel a sharp pain in my jaw. I open and close my mouth a few times to give it a stretch.
“You still having that jaw pain?” James asks with concern.
“It’s no big deal. Probably just stress.”
What I don’t tell him is that I’m pretty damn sure my wisdom teeth are impacted and I need to have them taken out. But a girl who just lost her school funding and whose health insurancehasn’t kicked in yet for her new job can’t exactly afford an epic trip to the dentist. So I’m riding this out for as long as I can.
I put the focus back on him.
“Wait. You scuba dived with whale sharks? Where? When?”
This guy never ceases to amaze me.
“For a few years in my twenties, I led an excursion in Isla Mujeres every June.” A small smile curves his lips. “June is that awesome time of year when the whale sharks and mantas are making their way to the tip of the Yucatan Peninsula to feed in warmer waters. It’s magical stuff. Though technically, weswamwith them. You can’t dive with whale sharks. It’s fins and snorkels only since the scuba diving equipment isn’t safe for them. They stay on the surface mostly and are actually really sensitive creatures.” He pauses. “Sorry. I don’t need to explain this sort of thing to a marine biologist.”
“It’s okay. I’ve actually never done that kind of thing before.”
“What kind of thing?” He cocks his head to the side.
“Scuba diving, snorkling...” I say.
“What? How do you become a marine biologist without scuba diving?”
“There are ways around it. Besides, I generally consider myself a dry land marine biologist.”
“Any particular reason?” he asks.
I look into his deep chocolate-brown eyes, and for the first time, I feel like opening up. “My unofficial therapist Gail says my fear of water comes from the fact that I felt like I was emotionally drowning during my entire childhood, which kind of pisses me off.” I laugh.
“Why does that piss you off?”
“Because that dream analysis stuff is so literal! Someone who is emotionally drowning dreams about drowning? Come on! I don’t think I need a professional to draw that conclusion for me.”
“You dream about drowning?” he asks with concern.
“Sort of.” I shrug. “Treading water in the middle of the black ocean, getting aboard theTitanicandknowingit’s theTitanic– that’s always a fun one. The dreams stop and start depending on what’s going on in my life. And how close my parents are to meat the time.”
“Understood.” He nods. We watch the people chatting and laughing throughout the bar. “Maybe one day you’ll get in the water with me.”
I smile. “Maybe.”
I decide to ask a question that’s been on my mind for weeks. “Hey, that night when you brought food to Mabel’s, you said something about Wally saving your life in the water. What was that all about?”
He sighs. “Back in high school, Wally and I and a bunch of buddies from the swim team took a dip in the river one night. They didn’t realize how much I’d had to drink. The current was strong, and I got pulled under. Thankfully, Wally was there to pull me up. I started going to meetings the next day and haven’t stopped since.”
“Wow,” I say.
“Everybody has a moment when they realize they need help, right?”
“I guess?”
“Well, that was mine.” He grabs a rag and starts wiping the bar down. “Now, for the helpyouneed…”
“Thank you for offering to teach me about loans, but I’m just not willing to go down that path. I spent my entire childhood watching my mom stress over money. It was a mess. There was always a mortgage payment or a car lease she couldn’t pay off unless my dad sent her money, which he almost never did, and—”
“Well, he should have!” James says emphatically.
