Anya Reyes

By the time I got to my first class, my brain was still replaying the events of last night. I tried my best to convince myself that I was just imagining things, but they all felt real. The professor was talking, but I wasn't paying attention. Every few seconds, my mind dragged me back to the water, to that cold grip yanking me under, to scales flashing in the dark.

And Kaelen. Always back to Kaelen.

I told myself I wasn’t looking for him throughout the day. Obviously, I wasn’t that desperate. But my eyes kept betraying me, scanning the doorway every time it opened, flicking toward any tall figure in the hallway between classes.

Between the second and third period, I passed the quadrangle. The swim team was lounging on the grass. I told myself I was just cutting through the shortest path to my next class, but my gaze swept over the group automatically. No Kaelen. My stomach dipped, but I found myself slowing down anyway, looking twice before forcing my feet to keep moving.

Third period was worse. I’d catch myself staring at the corner of the desk, imagining what I’d say when I finally saw him. Why were you there? Why save me if you’re just going to ignore me? What even are you? Are you half fish?

And most importantly, Where are you, Kaelen?

By lunch, I was telling myself to stop being ridiculous. It’s not like he’d vanish forever. We had the last period together. That meant at some point today, I’d have to see him, and when I did, I’d get my answers.

I was halfway through stabbing a fork into a sad-looking salad when Ethan slid into the seat across from me.

“Hey, stranger,” he said, setting down his tray. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I blinked at him. “Do I?”

He tilted his head, studying me like I was an interesting puzzle. “You’re tense. And pale. And chewing like someone’s forcing you to eat grass clippings.”

“Thanks for the glowing review.” I tried for a smile, but it came out weak. My fingers tightened on my fork. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

Ethan didn’t buy that for a second. “Uh-huh. Sure. You know you can tell me if something’s wrong, right?”

At that, I almost caved. The words bubbled up to the tip of my tongue: I was dragged underwater by actual monsters, and Kaelen apparently was half-dolphin. But I couldn’t exactly dump that on Ethan in the middle of the dining hall. He'd think I was crazy.

So I lied. Sort of. “I… slipped near the pool last night. Scared me more than I thought it would.”

"Last night?" Ethan's eyes went wide. "Are you telling me you went back to the salt pool?!"

I nodded.

"Anya! What the hell is wrong with you? Why did you go back there?"

"I... I don't know."

His frown deepened, but he let it go. “You’re lucky you didn’t hit your head. You should be careful, Anya. You only have one life.”

“Wow, thanks, Dad.” I poked at my salad, trying to steer the conversation away from saltwater and near-death experiences. “What’s that you’re eating?”

He grinned, holding up his forkful. “Pasta. Real food. Unlike whatever rabbit food you’ve got going on there.”

“It’s called balance,” I said. “You might’ve heard of it. Not everything needs to be covered in cheese to be edible.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he said, twirling the pasta. “Cheese is a way of life.”

We bickered for a few minutes, and it almost felt normal. The tension in my shoulders loosened a little, though the image of dark water and flashing scales still lingered in the back of my mind like a shadow I couldn’t shake.

At some point, Ethan shifted the topic. “So, you going to the Fall Fest next weekend? Live music, food trucks, supposedly a haunted maze.”

I shrugged. “Maybe. Depends on how much I want to subject myself to overpriced funnel cake and people in rubber masks jumping out at me.”

“You love funnel cake.”

“I love it until I remember I don’t have the metabolism of a hummingbird.”

He laughed, and I caught myself smiling for real. The noise of the dining hall faded just a little, like we were in our own bubble. For a moment, it was nice.

But then, in the middle of our back-and-forth, my gaze drifted toward the far corner of the room. A group of swim team members had just walked in. My stomach gave that stupid little lurch again.

Kaelen wasn't with them.

I tried to keep my face neutral, but Ethan’s eyes flicked to me. “What?”

“Nothing,” I said too quickly, jabbing my fork into a tomato.

He didn’t call me out, but I could feel his curiosity simmering under the surface, like he was filing this moment away for later.

After lunch, Ethan and I split off for our separate classes. He gave me a quick wave and that half-smile of his before disappearing into the crowd, and I found myself walking slower than usual.

By the time I got to the last period, my heart was pounding like I’d sprinted here instead of walking. I picked a seat that gave me a perfect view of the door, like I was lying in wait for him. It was probably pathetic, but whatever.

Five minutes to the bell. Still no Kaelen.

That's fine. Maybe he's just cutting it close. People run late all the time.

The bell rang, and the teacher started talking, and the seat next to mine was still empty. I kept half-listening, half-hoping he’d slip in with some sarcastic comment or bored expression, like this was all just some big coincidence.

By the time class ended, my jaw ached from clenching it. Kaelen was nowhere to be found.

Where is Kaelen? What if the monsters came back and... and killed him?

Oh god, no, I thought as I shook my head.

I stuffed my notebook into my bag and stood before the teacher had even dismissed us. My feet knew exactly where I was going before my brain caught up. If he wasn’t in class, then he had to be somewhere else on campus. And if Kaelen wasn’t in the water right now, there was only one other place I could think to look.

The swim team’s locker room.

The hallway leading there was quiet, the fluorescent lights buzzing faintly overhead. I didn’t slow down. My pulse pounded harder the closer I got.

The door wasn’t locked. I shoved it open... and froze.

Heat and humidity wrapped around me instantly, thick with the smell of chlorine and soap. A cluster of guys turned at the sound of the door opening, some mid-conversation, others grabbing towels from hooks or pulling on shirts.

Half of them were wearing nothing but briefs. Some only had towels slung low on their hips. Skin and muscle were everywhere.

For a split second, embarrassment crashed into me so hard I almost backed right out. Oh my god, what am I doing?

“What the hell—?” one of them shouted.

“Are you insane? This is the men’s locker room!” another barked, grabbing his towel tighter.

A few of them laughed, and the others stared like I’d sprouted a second head. My cheeks burned, but I forced myself to lift my chin, ignoring the heat flooding my face.

I reminded myself that I wasn’t here for them.

I was here for him.

Taking a deep breath, I raised my chin and asked at the top of my lungs, “Tell me where the fvck is Kaelen?”