Page 43 of Crashing Tides

Maybe more than a little bit. Fat tears drip off the ends of my eyelashes. If I had any shame left, I’d be embarrassed.

But I don’t, so I let Jane lead me to one of the many benches dedicated to Edna the Great. I plop down beside her and wipe my eyes. She puts an arm around me while I force myself to take a deep breath.

“I didn’t look. I couldn’t look. But my hands…” I splay my fingers out before us, wriggle them a bit. “There were scales,” I mumble. “And like, this weird webbing. And claws. Really scary claws. I think I cut Duncan’s neck.”

“You weren’t awake for that,” Jane points out softly.

“I still feel bad.”

She sighs, then smirks a little bit, just this side of mischievous. “So that’s what happened to your clothes.”

“I think they just shredded when I… you know.”

She covers her mouth with her hand, barely suppressing a laugh. “I was wondering what the hell happened there.”

“I’m hoping the cops thought I just kicked them off because they were too heavy.”

But this, apparently, doesn’t require a response. Jane goes silent a long moment, and I’m just starting to worry when she says, “So Duncan knows.”

“He promised not to say anything.”

She exhales slowly through her nose, then asks, “Do you know why he jumped in after you?”

A thousand responses fill my mind. Um, because I’m hot, obviously. Maybe he wanted to rescue me? Maybe he was suicidal?

But the truth is: “I don’t know.”

Frowning, Jane says, “I would’ve called 911.”

“I know,” I say. “You’re practical like that.”

Jane shakes her head. “He just jumped in?”

“I guess so.”

“Is he a swimmer?”

“Um… I don’t think so. Not really?”

“He’s either an idiot or he really, really likes you.”

That’s a weird thing to say. “Why do you think he likes me?”

Her laugh bursts free, wild and disbelieving. “Dominic. Seriously? Are you blind?”

“I’m concussed,” I grumble. My headache won’t let me forget.

“OK, but you haven’t been concussed this whole time.” There’s an amused glint in her eye. I’m a little annoyed that it’s at my expense, but mostly, I’m just glad to see her smile. I was kind of afraid our friendship wouldn’t survive this bullshit.

“No,” I mumble. “But he’s weird. Remember that one time when we had to keep switching partners in History?”

“A little bit.”

“He thinks I’m an idiot,” I say, reaching up to rub at the back of my neck, which is beginning to ache. I’m overdue for painkillers, I realize with a stab of annoyance. I don’t like being reliant on them.

That’s another reason I want to avoid dinner. I don’t need to eat when I can’t exercise without fainting.

“Do you think so?”