Page 96 of Pick Me Up On Tuesdays

He straightened, blinking slowly. “Did you say the sea glows?”

“Oh,” I replied, turning back to my screen like I hadn’t rehearsed this. “Yeah. Bioluminescence.

Tiny plankton or organisms lighting up the water or something. Nothing big.”

He stared for a second longer, then leaned back in his seat. “You mean that stretch we passed earlier?”

I shrugged. “That’s what it says here. Only happens on certain nights. Super rare.” I lied. The sea glowed each and every night. I turned my screen further away from him, in case the idea of creeping toward it was loading somewhere in his brain. FYI the page on screen was blank, I was only recalling something I had read the day before the documentary began.

Then, I casually dismissed the topic like I hadn’t just dropped a loaded magical grenade.

He didn’t answer.

Then, slowly, something lit behind his eyes.

Not all at once. A flicker.

The kind of flicker you’d see in a campfire on the verge of catching flame. That signature Ethan spark trying to fight its way past the cloud that had settled over him today.

He smiled—small, like a secret. “We should go.”

I blinked. “What?”

He stood, brushing imaginary dust off his jeans. “We should see it. The glowing water. For the documentary.”

“Are you serious?” I asked, clutching my laptop like a shield.

He didn’t look at me. Just grabbed his hoodie.

“Yeah,” he said. “Feels like a night to remember.”

That shut me up.

Still, I had to protest on principle. “We have rules. Mr. Dax could be awake. Or watching. Or armed.”

He gave a lopsided grin, one corner of his mouth tugging up like it hadn’t been used in a while. “You’re trying too hard to say no. Which means you want to say yes.”

“I don’t!” I said, even though my heart had already leapt onto the escape bus. “I’m a rule-abiding academic weapon.”

“It’s glow-in-the-dark water, Ghost Boy. It’s practically begging to be recorded.”

“Since when did you start—”

“Since now,” he cut in. “Grab your shoes. We’re about to break some light laws.”

“This is a bad idea.”

He tilted his head. “You can always tell Dax you were dragged against your will by an irresistible alpha male.”

“I—what? That’s not a—”

““Too late, Ghost Boy,” he said, sliding towards the window like a gentleman with bad intentions. “Adventure waits. This is gonna be fun.”

I wasn’t so sure about that.

But one thing was for sure.

Tonight, I was officially breaking character. Maybe not directly—but I had just lit the fuse on this whole thing.

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