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“Let’s stop and enjoy the view for a few minutes,” I say, gesturing to a rock, which I sit down on.
“How are your legs holding up?” He strokes my knee, and it feels good. I’ve never been a touchy-feely person or been friends with anyone who is, but I don’t mind his attention.
“Walking’s not as fun as swimming, but after a little rest, I’ll be ready to race you up the hill.”
“Oh yeah?” He raises his eyebrow.
“Unless you think I’ll beat you on my inexperienced legs.”
“I’m not worried at all. I’m wondering what I get for winning.”
“Like a prize?”
“Yes. Don’t you have competitions under the sea?”
“Sure we do, but it would be frowned upon to beat a princess, so people tend to avoid inviting me.”
“Don’t worry, princess. My moral compass isn’t that strong.”
I laugh at his refreshing attitude. “What if I find you some pearls if you win, and you can find me something precious.”
“I can’t afford anything like that. I was thinking a dare or a gesture.”
“A dare?”
“Like standing up to Ryn and telling him what you really think.”
“He knows how I feel.”
“I doubt that very much.”
“Okay. If I win, I want you to show me something beautiful.”
“I can do that. Do you need a head start?”
“Don’t treat me like a princess. While I’m here, I’m just Maris.”
“Okay, just Maris. Are you ready?” He arches his eyebrow in amusement.
“Yes.” I race off, and Kasper’s hot on my tail. Laughter echoes around us, but I don’t look back. I want to be first to the top of the hill.
“Hey, wait up,” Kasper says, and it isn’t long before he’s matching my pace.
I slow once we get close to the peak. “I was expecting more. Don’t get me wrong, the views are beautiful, but the pictures of volcanos I’ve seen were less green.”
“I agree with you completely. I’m disappointed.” He wraps his arm around my shoulders, giving me a squeeze.
“So, what now? Do we find a spade and start digging?”
“It would be so much easier if the Aquarius symbol was just here or marked off in a guidebook.”
“If it wasn’t hard, then it wouldn’t come with a reward.”
“Are you guys doing a treasure hunt or something? We never saw one of those in the brochure,” a woman, roughly in her sixties, says. She must be used to walking because she has a lot of equipment with her. My own body feels wobbly like jelly, and I’m glad we’ve slowed down. “Sorry, how rude of me. I’m Janice, and this fine young man is my grandson.”
A guy about my age turns around and smiles. He’s wearing sunglasses so I can’t see his eyes, but he doesn’t seem as enthusiastic about making friends with us as his grandmother does. “Leave the poor souls alone, Grandma. They’re probably on their honeymoon or something.”
“We’re just friends,” I say.
