Seven Tears at High Tide (18 page)

And he has seven months before he can see Kevin again. Why not spend it doing something worthwhile?

Morgan nudges Amanda playfully, and she pats him on the head, smiles at him and wipes her face. Morgan tries to let her know everything is going to be okay, but realizes she can't under­stand him when he's a seal. He transforms and watches the boat trundle back to the docks with her.

Amanda shakes her head. “Good riddance.”

“Hey,” Morgan says. “Thank you for your help.”

“It was nothing.”

“The only reason I would come back to this town is for someone I'm not supposed to see for seven months.” Morgan waves his hand vaguely in the air. “It's a magic thing. Anyway, I'd like to help you with your research. I mean, I do know a lot about currents.”

“How do you know about my thesis—”

Morgan shrugs again. “The Sea knows your heart's intentions.”

“And what about you? Don't you want to go home?”

Morgan looks at the shore, where the lights of the town are blinking awake, and then back at the horizon. “My home is wherever I am. I can see my family whenever I want. I don't have to choose anymore.”

Amanda scrunches her nose, and Morgan chuckles. “It's a long story.”

Twenty-one.

Kevin wakes up,
for the third time today, and with a head­ache. He's on the beach where he and Morgan collected rocks on that first hike so long ago. He sits up groggily, brushing sand off himself, trying to remember what happened. That Nathaniel guy pushed him into the water—to what—to see if he would transform? No, to see if he could call another selkie for help.

How did he end up all the way over here?

Kevin has a vague vision of Morgan holding him, and kissing him, telling him he loved him, but it slips away easily, as dreams do.

His head hurts, and Kevin recalls hitting it on a rock or some­thing. Did the chair break, then, if he hit the rocks on the ocean floor? Kevin recalls moving upward. He swam? Did he make it to the surface and then the tide washed him ashore?

He stands up wearily, rubbing his head; his wet clothes hang heavily on his body. It's going to be dark soon.

His parents look
at him carefully, as if he's fragile and might break, and Kevin doesn't tell them about the kidnapping and the near-fatal incident. They'd only worry. He trudges up to his room on autopilot and takes a shower, barely going through the motions. He gets dressed, and stares at his reflection in the mirror. It all seems so pointless. Eventually he flops on his bed.

Kevin ignores the calls for dinner, and stares at the ceiling. He falls asleep, but it's an uneasy, restless sleep. He dreams he's in the water, struggling in the dark. Morgan is pulling him to the surface, laying him on the shore, kissing him once more before returning to the waves.

The next morning, Kevin gets up early. Ann's downstairs, stretch­ing as she prepares to go for her morning run.

“Hey, loser,” she says. “Funny seeing you up.”

“Want some company?”

“Sure.”

They jog to the shore and run up and down the beach. Kevin keeps up with Ann, even though he remembers her being faster. Maybe he's gotten fitter.

“You missed out on dumplings last night,” Ann says on their third back-and-forth on the shore. “Dad and Rachel made them together as usual, and she made all the funny-looking ones. Not that they taste any different when they're cooked, but it was pretty hilarious, because the stuffing kept falling out of the ones she made.”

Kevin nods and lets Ann make idle conversation, and they run, their breath forming small clouds in the early morning chill. Kevin gets tired after losing track of how many times they've been up and down the beach, and Ann takes pity on him, walking back with him toward the house.

“So you guys broke up, eh?” Ann says, quirking an eyebrow.

“I guess. I mean, I knew he was only visiting for the summer… I just forgot it was ending.”

“It happens. You get so caught up in being happy, you lose sight of what's coming ahead.”

Kevin sighs and keeps walking.

“You took my car somewhere yesterday,” she adds.

“Sorry. I really, really needed to be alone. I went out for a hike on a beach Morgan took me to before, and I just… wanted to be there, I guess.”

“It's fine, I'm not mad. I get it, you know. First real boyfriend, and now he's gone. Distance sucks. I'm guessing they don't have Wi-Fi on his parents' boat?”

“What? Boat, yeah. No, they won't have Wi-Fi. Or phones. They're, like, not a very technology-happy family.”

“I could tell, the way Morgan was so fascinated with all your stuff. But especially you. He adored you, you know.”

Kevin sighs.

“Sorry, I'm just trying to be helpful. Look, you know I don't start classes for a few weeks. You're welcome to take the car out for a drive whenever you want, okay? Heartbreak sucks; I've been there.”

“Thanks, Ann, you're the best.”

They walk along the last stretch of beach before hitting the road that leads to town and pass the lifeguard tower. Sally waves at them enthusiastically. “That looked like quite the workout!”

“Thanks,” Kevin says. “It's way too intense for me, though. Can't believe Ann does this every day.”

“I know,” Sally replies, lifting her eyebrows at Ann.

To Kevin's great surprise, Ann blushes, grabs Kevin by the arm and then quickens their pace. “Kaythanksbye,” Ann mumbles, leading Kevin away.

“Whaaaat was that?” Kevin teases as soon as they're out of earshot.

“What was what? That was nothing,” Ann says, but the blush is deepening, traveling down her cheeks in full force.

“She was totally asking about you all summer. I didn't know you were—”

“I don't know if I am.” Ann casts a wistful look back at the beach. “I mean, I never thought about it, actually, until you came out to us. I didn't even think bisexuality was a thing. I don't know if I ever told you how brave you were, when you told Dad and Rachel, you know? I know I wasn't home when all that shit went down in your school with that kid and stuff—”

“You were at college,” Kevin points out. “It's not like you could have come back and done anything about that asshole.”

“You're right, but I was really just wrapped up in my own life, and I kind of just took for granted what you were going through here. And then this summer while I've been at home, it's just been amazing to see you really happy, you know. I'm glad you're my brother.”

“Ann,” Kevin says shakily, overcome with affection for his sister.

She pulls him into a hug, even though Kevin knows she doesn't particularly like physical affection, and Kevin pats her back appreciatively.

Kevin takes Ann
up on her offer that afternoon, driving up the coast back toward the beach. He doesn't know if this is a good idea or not, but he wants to see Morgan again. Maybe from a distance, just to see if he's okay. He parks the car on the shoulder, steps out into the wind and finds the same hidden path through the chaparral.

Kevin makes his way to the shore, crouching down to stay out of sight, and the salty air whistles by; the smell of sage is heavy in the air. He peeps through the shrubbery, and then stands up in confusion.

The beach is empty.

There is no one, not in seal form or human form. It's strange, reconciling this bleak and empty shore with the busy one filled with laughter, seals wobbling around, toddlers running naked in the surf, pelts drying on the rocks.

Kevin walks out onto the sand, which is freshly wet from the receding tide. There's no trace of anyone ever having been here at all.

The entire summer could have been a dream.

He sits on the beach, waiting for the tide to change, watching the clouds run by.

It isn't until his phone chirps with a text message from Michelle, reminding him about lifeguard training, that he shakes himself out of his stupor.

Kevin takes a deep breath, watching the ocean.
It'll be fine.

* * *

Life invariably does
go on. Sometimes thoughts of Morgan surface at the oddest times, such as when his mom brings dinner home one day from the cafe, and he's taking French fries out of the bag. Or when Kevin's rearranging his rock collection and turns over the piece Morgan gave him. The hurt is familiar now, a deep ache that Kevin accepts he's going to have for a long time. He pushes the feeling deep down, focusing on keeping busy. Lifeguard training takes up most of his time before school starts. And then it's back into the routine, getting on the bus every day to go to Cambria.

Kevin sits with Michelle, Patrick and Connor in the back row, now that they're friends. Somehow he's never noticed, despite having gone to school with them for years, but they say they've claimed this row forever, and eagerly welcome Kevin. The bus rides don't seem so lonely anymore. Sometimes he sees Miles at school or on the bus, hanging out with his new soccer friends, and Miles always looks apprehensive, as if he's waiting for Kevin to out him.

Kevin ignores him.

He throws himself into his schoolwork, and takes up Ms. Tran's sug­gestion that he join the school newspaper staff. Michelle is a copy editor, and pleased to have another writer on board. Kevin's afternoons are filled with frantic work to meet deadlines, with fast food runs and with the collective energy of all the other stu­dents on the staff. It's fun; some of the kids he never bothered talking to in his first two years of high school are actually really nice.

“You know, I tried to eat lunch with you once,” Michelle says, stealing a dumpling out of the lunch his dad packed for him.

Connor spears a dumpling as well, rooting around in the lunch­box with his other hand and grinning triumphantly when he finds the small container of sauce to go with it.

Patrick laughs at both of them, and pushes his plate of chicken nuggets and French fries toward Kevin. “Yeah, I remember. You said us Bus C kids should stick together, but this one just mumbled hello and kept reading his book.”

“I didn't know you wanted to be friends! I was super paranoid at the time, okay? You don't remember what it was like,” Kevin protests.

Patrick nudges a container of ketchup at him. “I think a lot of us thought you were very brave. I don't know if anyone else would have responded to Skylar's taunts with a ‘YEAH I AM, SO WHAT?' and then head butted him.”

Kevin shakes his head. “I ended up in the principal's office.”

“It was pretty awesome,” Patrick recalls. Kevin snorts at him and eats the offered chicken nuggets, and then starts to pick at Michelle's tater tots. “I think you were just trying really hard to play off the mysterious, bad-boy bisexual thing.”

Kevin blushes. “I don't know what you were talking about. I was a loser.”

Connor pulls a pastrami sandwich from his backpack and shakes it at Kevin. “And then you started hanging out with that Miles kid, and only him. I don't think anyone ever figured it out. Were you guys dating or something? Patrick was pretty devastated; he thought you were.”

“Shut up,” Patrick says hotly, nudging Connor. “And then this year, instead of hanging out with you, it looks like Miles signed up for Team Homophobes,” he says, glancing at where the soccer team is eating lunch a few tables away.

“I, um, well, we were friends.” Kevin has a brief impulse to tell them what happened, that he and Miles had been hooking up and then Miles had gone and pretended it was nothing. He could laugh with them about how Miles was in the closet or something, but it only seems cruel now. And pointless. “I guess we were close because we were neighbors, so I ended up hanging out with him a lot. I didn't think he was like that, but I guess when he joined the soccer team he decided not to be friends with me anymore.”

Michelle pats Kevin on the shoulder. “His loss. Besides, you have us now.”

Connor hands Kevin half of his pastrami sandwich, stuffed with all the sauerkraut that Kevin likes but Connor doesn't, and the four of them eat companionably, sharing their food, while Patrick tries to remember what exactly was on Ms. Tran's exam when he took AP US History last year as a junior.

They don't talk about Morgan. Michelle asked, on the first day, if Morgan would be at their high school, but Kevin just shook his head and said he moved away, and his friends seemed to take it upon themselves to not bring it up. Kevin talked about Morgan once with Patrick, when they were studying for their history class in Kevin's bedroom, and it had seemed so strangely reminiscent of the days spent with Morgan that Kevin had just stared off into the distance until Patrick asked about it. Kevin talked for an hour, skimming off the supernatural aspects of the story, and Patrick put his pen down and listened intently.

“It sounds like he was a great guy,” Patrick said. And that was it: no judgment, no pitying “it's going to get better” remarks, just a simple affirmation of Kevin's feelings, and the invitation to talk more, if he wanted.

“He is,” Kevin said, correcting the tense to the present.

Morgan still is, somewhere, a great guy.

Twenty-two.

Morgan has a
stomachache. He groans helplessly, leaning against the hard plastic seat of the diner.

“I told you not to get the fried platter,” Amanda says, snickering. “A year later, you're still stuffing yourself sick.”

Morgan holds his stomach. “It looked so good in the picture. And I like fried things.”

“Mmhm, you're lucky you're a teenager; at a certain point all of that goes straight to your hips. Damn, you ate all of that.” Amanda looks at the empty plates. Morgan finished the entirety of the fried seafood platter—fish and chips, fried oysters and a mound of fried shrimp. Two empty glasses that once held milkshakes round out the tableau.

“He's a growing boy,” Floyd says proudly. “Did you want des­sert? This place does cake, too.” He pushes the menu at Morgan, smiling. His beard is a little scraggly since they've been camping for the past few days, but it's still a lot neater than it was when Morgan first met him. Floyd's eyes dance in amusement as he scans the menu. “What about the cheesecake sampler? Look, you can try all three flavors.”

“Don't encourage him; I just got the check!” Amanda scoffs. “You're supposed to be setting a good example!”

Morgan laughs and puts the menu back in its little holder. “I don't think I can even look at dessert right now.”

Amanda shakes her head fondly. “All right kiddo, sounds like a plan. Let's hit the road. Old man, you're not driving; the way you handle turns scares me senseless.” She throws a generous tip onto the table and they head out of the diner; the bell tinkles merrily as they leave.

Morgan throws the hood of his sweatshirt over his head, and his father shakes his head at the worn and frayed old thing. “I bought you that other sweater; how come you never wear it?”

“This one was a gift,” Morgan says, pulling on the strings so the hood tightens around his face. He takes a deep breath of the fabric. It's been a long time, so it may be mostly his imagination, thinking the sweatshirt still smells like Kevin.

Floyd pats him gently on the shoulder and gives him an under­standing look.

Amanda has already started her hatchback's engine, and she has a map propped up on the steering wheel. “All right, so we head up to Vancouver and do some quick measurements up there, plus we can hit up my post office box, and by the time we get back to the university my satellite images should have arrived and I can do the thermal analysis. This time, Floyd, be careful with the instruments; I don't want to almost lose one to the tide. We're not always going to have no one around to see Morgan transform and get it for us.”

“You're the boss,” Floyd says.

Morgan sighs happily, curling in the backseat. The car's stuffed full of luggage, camping gear, an ice chest and Amanda's equipment, as well as her laptop and quite a few books. He wraps his arm around the pillow that has his sealskin tucked inside. He can smell the faintest hint of the sea as he smushes his face into it and watches the lights of the cars passing them by on the highway.

Amanda and Floyd argue companionably about music, and Floyd suggests taking some time to catch some fish. Morgan drifts off, watching the mountains in the dark distance, reading signs as they pass by.

They're in Vancouver when he wakes up, and Amanda is walking back to the car, shuffling through her mail. Morgan steps out of the car to stretch his legs and smells the salt in the air and the ocean nearby.

“Oh! Morgan, these are for you,” she says, handing him a fat envelope.

Morgan looks through the contents quickly; a flare of warmth travels through his body. He has official identification now: he can register in high school and even… apply to college? He's been doing all right; Floyd and Amanda have been tutoring him while they're on the road doing her fieldwork, and Morgan knows from his time studying for the SAT with Kevin that the subject matters aren't that difficult.

Floyd ruffles Morgan's hair. “It's official.”

Morgan looks at the California identification card—not a driver's license, although it certainly looks like one. He turns over the plastic in his hands and marvels at the shiny holograms. He has a place here now, and what he was worried about before—not being able to have a future—all of that is taken care of.

“Morgan Linneth Floyd,” he reads, looking up at Floyd. “You gave me my mom's name, too.”

“Amanda said the rhythm was off,” Floyd shrugs. “I know you said it would be fine if it was just my name, but I wanted you to have both.”

“Thank you.” Morgan leaps forward and hugs him around the waist. They've spent a lot of time together on the road, and there were times when getting to know him was difficult. They argue sometimes, and Floyd doesn't understand when Morgan refuses his request to ask his mother to come see him, but he tries. They've been getting along a lot better, lately.

They collect data in Vancouver and a few more spots along the coast on their way to Amanda's university in Humboldt. There she'll be settling down, finishing her doctorate with a new group of supportive academic advisors, all eager to see the research she's been doing this year.

Morgan knows it's well past the seven-month mark, but when March came he was nervous about seeing Kevin again. What if Kevin has moved on? If he's forgotten about Morgan? If he's fallen in love with someone else? Morgan spent a lot of time thinking about it. He knows he only wants Kevin to be happy, and he thinks he'd be sad for himself, but it would be fine, eventually. Kevin deserves to be happy, whether it's with Morgan or not.

He considered leaving, when it was exactly seven months since he left Piedras Blancas, but it would have meant stranding Amanda without two valuable research assistants, and he didn't have the heart to do that, especially when she designed a new line of investigation based on what Morgan was able to find for her in seal form. Plus, the research was interesting, and he adored Amanda, and there was no way of knowing if Kevin still felt the same way about him. And then Amanda wanted to do some studies on the Aleutian Current, and that was a seasonal investigation, and Floyd had never been to Alaska, and it was just easy to keep going along with their current plan instead of facing the possibility that Kevin might not want him anymore.

“You all right, son?” Floyd asks, joining him on the cliff's edge where he's looking across the sea. This particular stretch of Oregon coast is lonely and rocky, and rather desolate, and Morgan is filled with a sudden pang of longing for the sounds and laughter of his herd around him, for Naida gently teasing him about something or other, even for Micah's smug face.

“Yeah, just thinking.”

Floyd sits down next to him, and they spend a few companion­able moments watching the waves together. It's been nice, getting to know him. He has a dry sense of humor and a sharp way of looking at the world that Morgan appreciates. Morgan felt guilty at first, as if getting to know Floyd would be disloyal to Joren, his mother's current mate, who helped raise him since he was a pup. But now he knows he doesn't love Joren any less by learning to love Floyd.

His father nudges him. “Those look like seals, you think? Cousins of yours?”

Morgan sees the dark shapes in the distance and smiles. “Sure.”

“What are they saying?”

Morgan can't hear the barks well enough to translate. “I don't know if it will be very interesting, even if I could understand them,” he says, laughing. “We're not exactly the same.”

Floyd laughs, and they watch the seals together.

One of them swims forward, and Morgan recognizes the sil­houette. Warmth rushes through him, and he wants to find the trail and race down to the shoreline to say hello, but then remembers he isn't alone.

“I'll be right back,” Morgan says.

“Oh, one of them is a selkie?”

“I'll only be a moment.” Morgan hesitates, wondering if he should tell—no, it isn't his decision to make.

Floyd waves him off as Morgan runs down the trail, picking his way through the sharp turns that go down the cliffside. He's panting when he gets to the beach.

“Mother!” Morgan calls out.

She transforms and smiles warmly at Morgan, but doesn't walk ashore yet, just stands there in the surf as another wave breaks around her. Morgan follows her gaze up toward the cliff.

Toward his father.

Linneth and Floyd look at each other, and every second seems to stretch out like the years they've been apart, as if they're thinking about the time they had together, the decisions that were made, the would-haves and should-haves and where they are now. Finally Linneth waves, gives Floyd a soft smile. There's a lot said with that single look—love, thankfulness and appreciation.

Morgan smiles and waits on the beach, watching his parents have this moment to say hello. And goodbye.

Floyd's truck is
parked in the lot of Amanda's new apartment in Humboldt, and they start unloading Amanda's car, separating their belongings.

“Thank you so much for your help this year,” Amanda says, sweeping them both up in hugs. “I really couldn't have done it without you.”

“Thank you for taking us along,” Morgan says. Amanda's person­ality reminds him of Naida, a little bit, and he looks up to her with the same fondness with which he regards his siblings. “I'll miss you.”

“Where are you guys going now?” Amanda asks. “Gonna go check out some redwoods maybe? Or go east? Lots of cool stuff out there, you know.”

“Home,” Morgan says, without hesitation.