Of Poseidon

wrong?”
    “Well, it’s just that … it looks like we have the exact same schedule. Seven classes together.”
    “Is that a problem?”
    Yes. “No. I mean, well it isn’t for me, but … I just thought maybe you’d rather not have me around after what happened that day at the beach.”
    He stops and pulls me out of student traffic to a row of lockers. The intimacy of the move gets the attention of some passersby. Remnants of his fan club linger behind, still waiting for me to relinquish my turn.
    “Maybe we should go somewhere private to discuss this,” he says softly, leaning closer. He glances with meaning around us.
    “Private?” I squeak.
    He nods. “I’m glad you brought it up. I wasn’t sure how to approach you about it, but this makes it easier for both of us, don’t you think? And if you keep cooperating, I’m sure I can get you leniency.”
    I gulp. “Leniency?”
    “Yes, Emma. Of course you realize I could arrest you right now. You understand that, right?”
    Ohymysweetgoodness, he came all this way to press assault charges against me! Is he going to sue me, sue my family? I’m eighteen now. I could legally be sued. The heat on my cheeks is part kill-me-now embarrassment and part where’s-a-knife-when-you-need-one rage. “But it was an accident!” I hiss.
    “ An accident? You’ve got to be kidding me.” He pinches the bridge of his nose.
    “No, I am not kidding. Why would I ram into you on purpose? I don’t even know you! And anyways, how do I know you didn’t run into me, huh?” The idea is preposterous, but it leaves room for reasonable doubt. I can see by his expression he didn’t think of that.
    “What?” He is struggling to follow, but what did I expect? He can’t even find his class in a school with only three halls. That he found me clear across the country seems more miraculous than a push-up bra.
    “I said, you’ll have to prove that I ran into you on purpose. That I meant to cause you harm. And besides, I checked with you at the time—”
    “Emma.”
    “—and you said you didn’t have injuries—”
    “Emma.”
    “—but the only witness I have on my side is dead—”
    “EM-MA.”
    “Did you hear me, Galen?” I turn around and yell at the remaining spectators in the hall as the bell rings. “CHLOE IS DEAD!”
    Sprinting is not a good idea for me in the first place. Sprinting with tears blurring my vision, even worse. But sprinting with tears blurring my vision and while wearing flip-flops is a lack of respect for human life, starting with my own. So then, I am not surprised when the door to the cafeteria opens into my face. I am a little surprised when everything goes black.

6
    HE PULLS into the driveway of the not-so-modest house he asked Rachel not to buy. Cutting the engine to the not-so-modest car, he throws his backpack full of books over his shoulder.
    He finds Rachel in the kitchen, where she’s pulling fish fillets from the oven. She wears an apron over her polka-dot dress, and her hair, a chaos of black curls, is pulled into a ponytail. She huffs up at her bangs to get them out of her face as she turns and smiles. “Hiya, cutie! How was your first day of school?” She pops the oven shut with her hip.
    He shakes his head and pulls up a bar stool next to Rayna, who’s sitting at the counter painting her nails the color of a red snapper. “This won’t work. I don’t know what I’m doing,” he says.
    “Sweet pea, what happened? Can’t be that bad.”
    He nods. “It is. I knocked Emma unconscious.”
    Rachel spits the wine back in her glass. “Oh, sweetie, uh … that sort of thing’s been frowned upon for years now.”
    “Good. You owed her one,” Rayna snickers. “She shoved him at the beach,” she explains to Rachel.
    “Oh?” Rachel says. “That how she got your attention?”
    “She didn’t shove me; she tripped into me,” he says. “And I didn’t knock her out on purpose. She ran from me, so I chased her and—”
    Rachel holds up her hand. “Okay. Stop right there. Are the cops coming by? You know that makes me nervous.”
    “No,” Galen says, rolling his eyes. If the cops haven’t found Rachel by now, they’re not going to. Besides, after all this time, the cops wouldn’t still be looking. And the other people who want to find her think she’s dead.
    “Okay, good. Now, back up there, sweet pea. Why did she run from you?”
    “A misunderstanding.”
    Rachel clasps her hands together. “I know, sweet pea.