Mary Underwater by Shannon Doleski

Author:Shannon Doleski
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Abrams
Published: 2020-04-07T00:00:00+00:00

“Can’t we just watch the fireworks from your porch like we usually do?” I ask, grabbing a soda out of Lydia’s fridge.

“No, please?” Lydia whispers. “My parents never let me hang out with Omar unless it’s a group.” She salutes me as she talks. Her dad, the former military man, is strict. Well, not really strict, but Lydia thinks he is. “We’re going.”

I groan, and she flicks me in the shoulder. “But are you going to kiss Omar all night?” I ask. “Then I should definitely stay here.”

Lydia smiles. “Oh, like you don’t want to kiss Kip.”

I’m probably doing the eyebrow thing. I don’t know what I think about kissing. I’ve never done it before. I bite the inside of my cheek while we walk down to the beach for the fireworks. The third weekend of June is the Blessing of the Fleet. Father Mike says a prayer, the mayor smashes a bottle of champagne on a bow, and the whole island celebrates the boats.

We walk past crowds of people and find Omar with a bunch of Our Lady kids. Near the rock that juts out, separating the beach from the town, a ninth grader flattens a blanket, and Lydia and Omar sit. I smile at Omar putting his arm around her.

And panic a little too.

To relax, I look out at the water and think about silica gel, like the little packets that come in a shoebox. The gel helps control humidity, and in the sub, it will allow me to read the units on the controls.

The sun starts to set. It blazes fiercely over the Bay, desperately trying to stay in the sky. I take off my sandals and walk toward the water. Little girls splash off to our right, but no one is ahead. I wade. That’s all I do. I really am a terrible swimmer.

Based on what Ford said, a strong swimmer could swim across the Bay in about the same time as the sub, two to three hours. I laugh out loud. I figure that engineering my own submersible is ultimately easier than learning how to swim.

“Are you telling jokes over there?” I hear behind me. “To who? Yourself?”

I turn around. “Hi.”

As Kip walks closer, I watch his mouth. “Whatever the joke is, it can’t possibly be as funny as I am.”

“I’m funnier than you are.”

“According to who, Murph?” Kip takes another step closer, his hair bright. He’s really close to me now, our feet almost touching in the water. I pray there are no jellyfish. He grabs a lock of my hair, and I hold my breath. We seem alone, a lot more alone than when we actually are.

“Your hair’s pretty,” he says quietly. I’m still staring at his mouth. It’s nice.

“Yours too,” I say, exhaling. I don’t know what I’m doing. My heart pounds in my ears.

Kip grins. The gap in his teeth shows. I like that gap. Still holding a strand of my hair, he leans close to my face.

Oh Lord. I think we’re going to kiss.

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