Waveborn

21

She must have drifted off again, because she jolted awake to the jolt of plastic scraping across rock and barnacles. A moment later, Jason lifted her off the kayak and helped her stumble through mud and sand to higher ground. Her legs didn't seem to belong to her; they felt leaden and thick, as if she were some mutant Barbie whose arms and legs had been ripped off and replaced with pieces of Mr. Potato Head.

It was a relief to collapse and rest her head on her knees. She'd never been this exhausted in her life. Her throat filled up with the enormity of everything: the strange woman, the fact that she'd tried to kill her, the fact that Cass had listened. She'd walked straight out into the sea, just like she'd been told. Why would she do that?

"What were you doing out this way?" Worry edged Jason's voice and Cass realized she'd started to drift off again.

She forced herself upright. "I was at the Piper Center, with Jen."

"Won't she wonder where you are?"

"Eventually," she said. The word turned into another choking cough.

"I found your clothes and phone." Jason lifted her cell and a stream of muddy water poured from one end. "Afraid they're wet, too."

The sun had already begun to dry the black fabric of Jason's t-shirt. Now that they were out of the water, she could feel the sun's heat seeping into her skin. She didn't want to put on cold clothes. She didn't want to move. "Crap," she murmured. "And I was finally going to get your phone number. Could you spread them on a log or something? Maybe they'll dry."

Jason dropped to the sand beside her, his shoulder touching hers.

"What about you?" she asked. "What are you doing here?"

"Besides saving you? I live here. My grandpa's land is just the other side of the point."

"That's right. I knew that." Cass hugged her knees to her chest. Even now, exhausted and nauseous, part of her wanted to crawl back into the water. Part of her wanted to swim so deep that she left everything else behind. That was what terrified her—that this woman had tried to kill her and made her enjoy it. No, "enjoyed" was too mild a word. Cass loved it. The swirling water, the way her cupped hands pulled through it, the pure pleasure of launching herself downward into mystery—all those lingered. Memory tingled in her skin, in the weight of her arms and legs. Swimming out to sea had filled her with the purest, clearest happiness she'd ever felt.

"She made me want to do what she said," she whispered. "She could have asked anything—asked me to kill Jen—and I think I would have done it."

"That's how it was for me." Jason's voice carried a shattered note. "It's not just that she makes me jump in the ocean or hypnotizes me or whatever, it's that I want to. I want to breathe water or dive in after her. I haven't told anyone, not even Gramps who's always warning me about spirits and would probably believe me because...because..." He waved one hand, wordless.

Cass leaned her head against his shoulder. "Because it's worse than being naked."

"Right. You're stripped inside as well as out."

"There's more," Cass said. "When I got back to the boat last night, the girl—my look-alike—was there."

His entire body tensed. "What happened? What did she do? If she hurt you—"

"She didn't hurt me, but she told me to stay away from you. She said she'd make me stay away from you." Cass shook her head, remembering the pull of the girl's voice. She'd twisted it somehow, made it mess with her head. Just like the old woman.

Jason's hands closed into fists. "She can't make you," he said, but his voice sounded uncertain, almost a question.

"There's more. She said—" She had to take a deep breath, because she was suddenly terrified what he would think. "She said she's my sister. She said I'm a traitor for staying with Jen. For staying with humans."

"Staying with humans? What the hell—"

Cass pressed on. "And she said Dan strangled my mother—our mother—to death twelve years ago, and that Jen is to blame, too."

He seized her hands in his. "Of course she'd say that. She's a liar, remember? She'll say whatever will get under your skin."

"You don't believe her?" A curl of hope stirred in her. She didn't want to believe any of it. She didn't want to have a sister or to find yet another thing that Jen had been lying to her about for her entire life.

"No! And you shouldn't, either. Even if she slips some truth into what she said, you can't trust her. She manipulates and twists what you think you know until—" He broke off with a sheepish smile. "I'm ranting."

Cass saw the girl's face in her mind again, her features twisted in hatred. You're a traitor...he murdered her...strangled her with his bare hands...

"She must have had a busy night last night," he said.

His tone made Cass search his face for meaning. "Did you see her, too?"

He bit his lip and nodded. "I wish she'd do something I could fight."

Jason sat with her as the sun moved past the madronas; their shadows receded, letting the sun bake away the chill that had settled deep in her muscles and bones.

By the time the wind had finally blown most of the damp from her clothes, Cass felt steadier on her feet, enough to stagger back into her jeans and tie her windbreaker around her waist.

It still felt like she was missing something. "Peter's notebook," she groaned. She spun, searching the sand and gravel.

"What's wrong?"

"I had a sketchbook with me. It's missing."

Jason helped her search the strip of beach, but Cass had the sinking feeling they wouldn't find it. It should have been with her clothes, and Jason hadn't seen it earlier. "It must have been washed away," she said finally. Or maybe the woman took it.

"Want me to walk back with you?"

"No, I'm okay."

"You can keep my shirt, if you want."

She hugged her arms around it, a lump in her throat. "Thanks."

He pulled her into a hug so tight she could barely pull in breath. "Dammit, Cass. I thought you weren't coming back up." His breath blew warm in her hair. With a sigh, he stepped back. "See you tonight?"

"Tonight?" she repeated. Her brain clicked slowly, processing: the band, the day, rehearsal. That world felt like it belonged to someone else. "Oh. Practice. Yeah, I'll see you tonight."