Seven Tears at High Tide (7 page)

The water rises beneath him, and Kevin grips the edges of the board and tries to get to his feet. The wave rushes by and then churns over on itself. Kevin loses his balance and topples off the board. It's a mad, whirling rush of confusion underwater, and he can feel himself getting pulled quickly toward shore by the leash on his board.

Everything is green and blue and Kevin can't make out which way is up, can barely see his own hands in front of him, can't concentrate through the roar of water in his ears. If he doesn't right himself soon, he's going to get a full body drag onto the grainy beach, and it's going to
hurt.

He feels a brushing touch at his ankle and then the leash is off, and Kevin is hauled up to the air. He gasps for breath, coughing and spluttering. Morgan is holding him up. They tread water together; Morgan watches him with a worried expression and keeps his hand clasped firmly around Kevin's arm.

“Thanks, dude,” Kevin says. “I guess we're even now.” He chuckles.

Morgan doesn't laugh, just blinks and asks, “Were we odd?”

“I saved you, you saved me, even-steven. You know, fair and square.” Kevin gestures between them. Not for the first time he wonders where Morgan is from. Maybe he was home-schooled; his English seems centuries old sometimes. “Oh no, my board!” he shouts, swimming quickly toward the beach. Kevin's feet drag against the pull of the incoming waves. His board has drifted off to a pile of sharp rocks; the surf pummels it relentlessly.

Kevin pulls it off the rocks, groaning when he sees scratches and a huge gouge running down the center, exposing the foam interior.

Morgan clambers onto one of the rocks and eyes the board. “It is damaged?”

“Yeah. I mean, technically I could take it back out and keep going, but then the seawater will get in this crack and it'll just get worse.”

Kevin walks over to the shower area, sprays down his board and rinses it carefully to get all the saltwater off. “Guess no more surfing for today.”

“We could watch a movie,” Morgan suggests.

“Yeah, that sounds good. Do you wanna go home and change out of your wet clothes?” The question is already out of his mouth before Kevin remembers he has never asked if Morgan lives in town, or if he moved recently to the area or to Piedras Blancas itself. He must live close by, walking distance probably; he always seems to just show up at Kevin's house. It's possible he's staying in San Simeon or farther south in Cambria. Kevin can't remember anyone dropping him off, but that doesn't mean someone hasn't.

Morgan shakes his head.

“What, you got dropped off and now you're stuck till you get picked up?” Kevin asks. “How long did you think we'd be out?”

Morgan gives him a noncommittal shrug.

“Okay, you can borrow something from me.”

Should he mention that Morgan still has his sweatshirt?
He wasn't wearing it yesterday or today; maybe he thought it was a gift?
For some reason that doesn't bother Kevin at all. Morgan looked adorable wearing his blue sweatshirt. Does Morgan have it in his room?
Did he keep it because it reminded him of me?

They walk back to Kevin's house, and Kevin laughs at Morgan's imitation of a seagull. Morgan sticks out his tongue. “Pests.”

“So true,” Kevin says, laughing. “You should see the school around lunchtime. Right before the bell rings, they all swarm in, waiting to attack the trashcans and the food left out. They can get quite vicious.”

Morgan laughs, squawking ridiculously and flapping his hands, making a silly face.

“Are you staying in Piedras Blancas?” Kevin asks.

Morgan shakes his head. “A bit farther north. My family is only staying here for the summer.”

“Oh.” Kevin is more than a little disappointed that Morgan won't be going to high school with him in the fall. He'll be gone come September, back to Scotland or something.

“Come on.” Kevin takes Morgan's hand, suddenly filled with the desire to make more of his time with this strange and compelling boy.

They wander into the house, wipe their wet feet on the welcome mat, climb up the stairs and giggle as they pass Ann's bedroom. She's dancing with her headphones on, oblivious to the open door, swaying to the beat.

In Kevin's bedroom, he quickly scrounges up some clean shirts and shorts. “Here, you can wear this,” he says, handing an outfit to Morgan and then ducking into his bathroom to change. He peels off the wetsuit and hangs it up in his shower, then leans his surfboard carefully against the wall, eyeing the crack. He'll have to fix it tomorrow.

When he returns, Morgan is holding onto the wet boardshorts, wearing the outfit Kevin gave him. He looks curiously at the rock collection prominently displayed on Kevin's bookshelf. “These are beautiful,” he says.

“Here, I'll take that,” Kevin says, holding out his hand for the bedraggled boardshorts to hang in his shower. He's certain now that they're the ones from the lifeguard's lost and found. Kevin's starting to worry that Morgan doesn't have any other clothes, but he doesn't know how to bring it up. Money can be a touchy subject.

Morgan holds Kevin's favorite specimen, a piece of green olivine on basalt. Kevin once almost convinced Ann it was an avocado roll—it certainly looks like one, bright green speckled with sesame seeds, wrapped in dark seaweed.

“That's from Mexico. My family went on vacation to Baja last year, and I got that out of an old volcano.” He tries his best to describe the sweltering heat and the excitement of finding geodes and cracking them open with a hammer. Morgan listens in rapt silence as Kevin talks about the find and tilts the olivine so it catches the light. He sets it back in its spot behind its label, slowly so as not to disturb the other specimens, and Kevin is quietly pleased with Morgan's careful appreciation.

“I changed my mind,” Kevin blurts out.

“About what?”

“I do want this to be a date. For us, to do that,” he says, blush­ing. “I like you. A lot.”

Morgan's face breaks into a bright, happy smile.

“And what do we do differently, for this to be a date?”

Kevin can feel the heat on his cheeks. “We can hold hands, if you like. Um, or kiss, if you want to. But we don't have to do anything you don't want to. I'm fine just hanging out and watching a movie with you.”

Morgan tilts his head and steps closer. “I want to,” he says, not specifying what, but Kevin knows immediately.

It's just the quickest brush of lips, but Kevin feels it all the way to his toes. A warm curl of excitement blooms throughout his body, and Morgan's mouth is warm and wet against his. It's not like any kiss he's had, chaste and sweet and over in a second, and yet his heart is still pounding after Morgan leans back. He's close enough for Kevin to be able to count the eyelashes dark against his cheek.

Morgan ducks his head and asks, “Was that okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that was great.”

They settle down on the floor, leaning back against his bed. Kevin drags his laptop across the carpet from where it was sitting in the corner and pulls up the Netflix account he shares with his sister.

“Okay, so, movies,” he says distractedly as Morgan's fingers brush against the back of his hand. “What do you want to watch?”

“Whatever you like. I enjoy stories of all kinds.”

Kevin finally decides on an old Batman movie, slings a casual arm around Morgan's shoulders and hits “play.” The movie is an old favorite of Kevin's, and it's actually more entertaining to watch Morgan's eyes widen and the little shakes he makes when he gasps with surprise and his quiet fascination with the Penguin.

Morgan relaxes into his arm, leaning into the touch; his head rests on Kevin's shoulder. It's pleasant and comfortable in a way Kevin's never felt. He's completely at ease.

Six.

Morgan hates to
admit to Naida when she's right, but movies are absolutely fascinating. It's only been a week but Kevin's shown him many different stories. He always loved stories as a child, curled up as a pup, sleepily listening as his aunts and uncles wove magical tales with their words. Sometimes they were histories of their people, sometimes clever fantasies of heroes and monsters of the ocean's depths, epic tales that took weeks to finish telling.

Movies are
visual.

Clearly Kevin is used to it, but the first story he showed Morgan—the tale of a Batman, fighting for justice against the Penguin, the colorful costumes, the exciting music, the way the whole story came together—was so thrilling. It makes Morgan wonder if any of the penguins he's met down south could also be shape-shifters.

Morgan had been afraid Kevin would make fun of his very obvious first time enjoying a movie, but Kevin seemed happy just to watch it with him, holding him close.

And the movies weren't even the best part: Kevin said
he wanted it to be a date.

Morgan sighs happily, drifting in the water, watching the sun­light bounce off the waves, listening to the quiet burble of fish swimming under him, feeling the water cool under his back. He swims lazily, thinking about the way they kissed, about Kevin's lips soft and sweet on his own, about Kevin's arm around him as they watched the movie.

He's lightheaded even now, thinking about it. Morgan doesn't notice when a wave pulls him forward, just lets it carry him wherever.

Morgan can't believe he's avoided the human form his whole life. Running, walking, eating fried foods—it's all amazing. Hold­ing hands and kissing—that's a whole other experience Morgan can't believe. He's seen the affectionate nuzzling of mated pairs in his herd, the easy way they sprawl over each other when they sleep. And occasionally, when he was younger and curious, couples mating, rutting together on the beach, making loud passionate noises into the night.

It's different with humans
. He doesn't know if Kevin wants to mate with him or not. He hasn't Requested that, not that Morgan can remember anyone ever in history Requesting someone to mate with and the Sea actually granting it. Requests are granted based on purity of heart, to those whose intentions are good. Kevin wanted someone to love—and Morgan does love him.

Morgan's pretty sure he could figure it out—mating—if Kevin wanted to. He's happy where they are, though, and more than thrilled about kissing. The human body—the skin—isn't as sen­sitive as a seal's, but the lips are particularly receptive to touch Morgan learned.

And Kevin is a patient teacher. The first time Kevin's tongue touched his own, Morgan's face turned so red he thought he must have been ill. Kevin laughed, called him adorable, and then Morgan discovered that feeling excessively warm in the face was not the sudden onset of human disease, but
blushing.

It happens around Kevin a lot, particularly when they kiss, but Morgan loves every moment—Kevin's soft hands holding his own, or gently cupping his jaw, the warmth of his mouth, his pleased hum when Morgan tilts his head and kisses back eagerly.

It isn't always kissing and holding hands. They spend time doing other things, such as studying for the SAT together. Kevin assumes Morgan needs to study for this too, so they do it together, memorizing definitions and practicing math problems. Morgan's rather abysmal at the math, and returns to the Sea at night to try to fill in the missing gaps in his knowledge. Asking to absorb the information simply results in an amused feeling and silence, and nothing changes when Morgan tries to explain that being good at math is necessary to fulfill Kevin's Request. The Sea is silent and entertained. No one else in the herd experienced in human knowledge is any help either.

Kevin doesn't find his lack of mathematical knowledge weird. They have the same level of understanding of most of the concepts, and being bad at math is a normal human thing. Morgan does all right with the meanings and stories part, and he is learning a lot, but mostly he feels good about helping Kevin study.

One warm afternoon, Morgan accidentally knocks over a pack of index cards, sending them flying off the bed. Kevin laughs and the two of them scramble over the floor, picking up the cards together, chuckling as they bump heads. Morgan reaches for the cards scattered under Kevin's bed, crawling under it to collect them all. He shifts aside a few objects, pulling them out so he can grab all the blank cards where they're sticking to the carpet. Morgan gathers all the cards and emerges, knocking aside a box he moved earlier, grinning triumphantly at Kevin.

“Here you go.” Morgan hands the cards to Kevin, who's turned a bright red.

“Uh, thanks.” Kevin ignores Morgan's outstretched hand and tries to stuff a number of colorful objects back into the upended box.

“What's all this?” Morgan sets the cards down and watches.

“Nothing! It's nothing.” Kevin shoves the box back under the bed, picking nervously at his shirt. His cheeks are flushed, and Morgan can smell Kevin's embarrassment.

There's a bright blue square package that Kevin missed, and Morgan picks it up curiously. The label reads
Cal State San Luis Obispo Student Health Services
. Is it some sort of medical product?

“Ah, yeah, that's uh, I don't have that because I was plan­ning to, um, I mean, if you—I mean I already had those!” Kevin stam­mers. “When I came out to my parents, they were, like, super supportive, and my mom got all this stuff for me from her work.”

“Are you ill? This is some sort of health product?”

“That's a condom, Morgan. Have you… never seen one before?” Kevin blinks at him.

Morgan shakes his head.

“You can open it and look at it if you want. I know not everyone has access to, like, proper sex education, or very enthusi­astic parents like mine.”

Morgan raises his eyebrows when he hears the word “sex” and tears open the package to look at the object inside. It's a soft ring of manmade material, slightly wet to the touch. It smells… kind of sweet. He brings it up to his nose, and the fruity scent gets stronger, and Morgan sticks his tongue out to taste it.

“Oh my God, stop,” Kevin says, almost hysterically. “You're ridiculous—what are you doing?”

Morgan unravels the thing to reveal a floppy tube, sniffing at it to see if the scent persists. “Why does it smell like the candy you had me try yesterday?”

Kevin looks at the package. “Uh, I guess this one is blueberry flavored.”

Morgan doesn't know what blueberries taste like, so he licks the condom, making a face at the sharp tang of the material and the too-sweet stickiness. Kevin starts laughing, and the embarrassed tension in the air gives way to fond amusement.

“You haven't explained what this is,” Morgan says.

“I did!” Kevin blurts out. He buries his face in his hands. “It's for sex,” he adds in a stilted whisper.

Morgan stops himself before making a comment about humans and their strange mating practices that require these extra things. Maybe these fruity-flavored things are like a courting gift that you present to your intended. But Kevin said it was for sex. Morgan gives him a blank look. “How?”

“Wow, you are really sheltered.” The scent of embarrassment is back in the air. Kevin gestures hopelessly and looks at Morgan, but the human gesture is completely lost on him. “You know….”

Morgan shakes his head and scoots closer.

Kevin toys with the hem of his shirt. “Um, it's like, for protec­tion. You put it on your penis. There are different kinds for people with different genitals; I think my mom may have gotten just a bunch of stuff.” He takes the box out now and starts rifling through it, and Morgan peers closer. In addition to the small foil squares, there are different colorful packages in different sizes and a number of bright, glossy pamphlets.

Morgan unfolds one to a diagram. “
Proper Preparation and You,
”
he reads aloud. The illustration looks like nothing he's ever seen before, and he says as much to Kevin. “What is this?”

“I think… that's a butt.”

“A butt?” Morgan shrieks. It isn't long before Kevin is laughing with him, and the two of them dissolve into unrepentant giggling. They go through the rest of the contents of the box, looking through and reading some of the pamphlets. It's fun, especially when Kevin starts reading aloud from some of the pamphlets in an exaggerated voice, as if he's performing a part in a story.

“This is kind of cool,” Kevin says, when they're putting the box back under the bed.

“What is?”

“How you're not, like, embarrassed about any of this. It's just interesting to you, like we might as well be learning about world history or something.” Kevin looks at him with an appreciative smile.

Morgan shrugs. “It
is
interesting, the mechanics of sex. It's nothing to be embarrassed about.”

Kevin looks at him expectantly, pushing himself off the floor. He stands there with an air of nervousness, as if he's waiting for Morgan to say something else about the sex supplies, but Morgan just takes Kevin's offered hand and smiles. “Thank you for sharing this with me. It was fun.”

“Yeah, it was.” Kevin seems surprised but pleased. He hugs Morgan and kisses him quickly on the cheek, relaxing into Morgan's arms. “Do you wanna stay for dinner?”

“Thank you, but I'm expected at home.” Technically Morgan is allowed to spend as much time as he wants on land for his Request, but he knows it would be strange if he were around all the time, and he's been trying to keep up the appearance of being human.

Kevin walks him to the door and kisses him softly. “Are you free tomorrow?”

Morgan nods.

Kevin beams at him; the smile stretches across his face from ear to ear. “Great! See you then.”

“I love you! Goodbye!” Morgan hugs him once more, and Kevin pats him stiffly on the back.

“I—okay—goodbye,” Kevin stammers, waving as Morgan walks away from the house.

It's high tide when Morgan gets back to the beach, but that's no problem for him, even in his human form. He dives headfirst into the waves, heading sidelong for the hidden cave where he's stashed his pelt. The salty air is cold and crisp on his wet skin, and he shivers a little as he surfaces for air. Taking a deep breath, Morgan finds the cave floor and tugs his pelt free of the rock trapping it on the ground. He takes care to fold up Kevin's sweatshirt neatly and secure it with the rock, then stuffs the shorts haphazardly next to it.

Transforming takes only a moment, for Morgan to think about his seal form and call it forward. With the next wave, Morgan is a seal again, sleek and powerful, heading toward the horizon. Despite the late hour, the sun still hangs above the water, gleaming yellow and making the waves sparkle and dance. Morgan hears the cries of seagulls in the air and the distant barks of the seals sunning themselves on the beach.

Morgan barks a greeting to them as he swims past, and the response is convoluted, a rush of noise and laughter, the sense of
warmhappyfedwarmhappyfed
. There's good hunting near here, Morgan surmises from the way one of them in the water is barking at him, but he can't understand properly what she's saying.

She gestures to him, as if she wants him to follow, and Morgan tries to tell her he's on his way home to his own herd, and to convey his thanks, but he knows she probably doesn't understand his words. She yips out a reply, and swims back to join her own herd at the rookery.

Morgan shakes his head and continues the long swim back home. Selkies and their more mundane cousins have always been able to communicate, and it's never bothered him before that it's not exact… they're just different. But this seal reminds him of one he met before on his travels, a seal that was part of another selkie herd, up in the icy waters. The selkies treated her like family, hunting with the seal and talking with her. He wondered at the time how the seal had come to be with them, but he quickly put it out of his mind in favor of following his sister and their new friends in a game of ice sliding. Morgan remembers it now in startling clarity, thinks about his “conversation” with that other seal, and how he might feel if she were his sister.

He takes a deep breath of air and dives. It's better to focus on Kevin, how their relationship is faring, and whether the Request is going well. The Sea churns around him with nothing but approval and more information about humans, if he wants it right now.

Morgan does not. He wants to understand why it makes Kevin uncomfortable when Morgan tells him he loves him. He wants to know what he's doing wrong.

He gets to the beach shortly after sunset, as the glowing pink sky is fading to purple. Naida is singing a story, acting out the humorous verses about a selkie from the warm waters who loved a selkie from the icy north. The song is silly and the pups are laughing, rolling around on the sand. Linneth watches her daugh­ter with a doting smile, swaying with the rest of the herd, caught up in the light mood of the song.

Morgan shuffles to the circle and watches from a few feet away, not wanting his conflicting emotions to bring down the atmosphere. Linneth catches his eye and whispers something softly to the selkie next to her. In a flash she's transformed, tall and stately, draping her pelt around her shoulders and walking gracefully over to Morgan on her human legs.

“Hello, Mother.”

“Morgan.” Linneth kisses him on the head. “Why don't you take a walk with me?”

“Sure.”

Morgan is still tired from his swim, so he's a little off bal­ance when in human form again. His mother catches him gently by the elbow and guides him up the shore, away from the others.

“How are you? I know that every night you've returned with many stories of you and Kevin, and how wonderfully you're getting on, but you have that look.”