Page 66 of Second Tide's the Charm
“What would I do without you?”
She answers absently, intent on her task. “You’d manage.”
I would, yeah. But I don’t want to just manage, or get by. Now that I remember how good it is to be with her, even as only a friend, how will I ever go back to life without her?
twenty-five
hope
The hour-long trip up the Intercoastal Waterway to North Carolina has flown by in a happy haze, joking and reminiscing with Adrian. Ever since I took Zuri’s advice and asked him if he’d be open to exploring a friendship, the dynamic between us has totally flipped. It feels so good to not have to weigh every word that comes out of my mouth or pretend I don’t enjoy his company.
On the career front, I sent in the application for the white shark research internship, after texting back and forth with Sylvia for more details. She seems to think I have a good shot, but the program is intensely competitive. Updating my résumé and completing an application felt good, though, like another step in the right direction.
By summer’s end, I’m counting on the attraction between Adrian and I burning out for lack of fuel, the longing for something deeper replaced by gratitude for a friendship that, if not quite what I want from him, doesn’t require me to give more than I know how to offer. Until then, though, I’m enjoying the undercurrent of attraction, letting my eyes linger and feeling a rush of pleasure when he does the same.
Someday, he’ll find someone to settle down with, and I’ll have to give this up, so maybe it’s a good time to start the process now. The thought enters my mind just as the motor changes in pitch.
Marissa has steered the boat into a deserted inlet, lined by a bluff covered in beach grass, and Adrian is leaning over the bow, butt in the air, checking the anchor line. Watching him, I decide to leave the task of learning how not to appreciate what I see for another day.
Gabe plops down next to my seat and I jolt upright guiltily, grateful for the heat of the day to explain my flushed skin.
Rubbing his hands together, he glances over the gunwale toward the man on shore who’s unpacking equipment from a case. “Think Jason will let me fly the drone?” Jason Ito is a biologist whose study involves using drones to study shark behavior. We’re here as part of Marissa and Adrian’s efforts to demonstrate a wide range of research techniques.
“Not a chance.” Adrian is still bent double, his voice muffled. Straightening up, he wipes his hands on his swim trunks. “I’m pretty sure he only agreed to film with us because he’s waiting on grant funding and needs access to a boat.”
Leaning over to unzip his laptop case, Gabe says, “Maybe. Would that be so bad?”
“Nah, I know how frustrating that can be. It’s part of why I’m glad we’re able to do this. But I hope he didn’t feel obligated. I would never want someone to do an interview if they’re not comfortable.”
“Which you made clear in the initial contact. You basically sounded like you were trying to convince himnotto collaborate with us.”
“Why?” This is the first I’m hearing of Adrian’s hesitancy. Then again, we’ve only been on good terms for a short while. “I assumed most people would be eager to work with you.”
“They are,” Gabe says. “Many of them seek us out. But by the time Adrian finishes the disclaimers, he makes a cool opportunity sound like selling their soul. He lets the haters get to him too much.”
“I keep a balanced perspective, that’s all. There are a lot of upsides, but putting your work out there in the public eye is a risk for negative exposure as well.” He looks at me when he says this, and a trickle of unease slides down my spine.
Gabe makes an annoyed face. “Your ‘balanced mindset’ is why Marissa does most of the initial outreach. Like with Bauer.” The name sounds familiar, and I place it after a moment—Marissa met with him around the time I first arrived. They wanted to dive with his team to show how acoustic receivers are set up and monitored.
“Who said no, just like I told her he would.” The engine noise cuts, and Adrian’s response is loud in the sudden calm.
“Originally, yeah.” Gabe pivots toward where Marissa’s stepping out from under the canopy. “Didn’t you say Bauer just gave us the green light?”
“Yeah, we’re set to film the team’s next dive.” She sits down to take off her water sandals and tucks them inside a backpack. “According to him, the board is making a push to become more visible on social media. He asked if our offer still stood, because he figured this would be easier than learning a TikTok dance.”
Adrian smirks. “We should lead with that. Get featured onShark Science Crew, no formal dance training required.”
“I don’t think you’re in need of a better pitch,” I assure him. “Sylvia and Liam were thrilled to be a part of this. Liam took like thirty selfies for his nephew. And numbers don’t lie; you have one point fourmillionfollowers.” Inwardly, I cringe. I wish I could forget the number, but every time he posts a video my mind keeps coming back to how many people might see me mess up, to the damage I could do to the field I love by screwing up.
“Followers aren’t a good benchmark of credibility,” he protests. “That’s just a popularity contest. I want to ensure our peers in the scientific community trust me to put out reputable content.” Content that includes me. But no pressure or anything.
“I looked at who you’re mutuals with.” I glance at Gabe. “Is mutuals the correct term?”
“Eh,” he makes a noncommittal noise. “We know what you mean. And they’re legit, right?Shark Science Crewis incredibly well-respected.” He clasps Adrian’s shoulder. “There’s a reason I wanted to work with you.”
“Be that as it may,” he says. “Jason didn’t seek us out, we contacted him. Don’t make him regret it by asking to fly the drone the second we arrive.”
Gabe flashes a smile. “Me? Never.”
