I should tell him. I really should. He should know. I’ve known him long enough. He has every right to know. He has every right to know everything.
I silently tread along the sandy beach, the wet seawater splashing between my feet. Faintly I hear the sound of waves crashing against distant rocky cliffs. The sunset sky is a deeper hue with every passing moment.
From afar I see him, a figure standing by the water’s edge. A teenage boy no older than me, his dark skin tan, the shade of wet sand. He stands facing the ocean, with the wind in his face.
“Sev!” I call out.
He turns, and waves when he sees me. I run towards him, my feet splashing sand and water.
When I get close enough, he grins. “Swimming?”
I nod with a smile. We take off our shirts, tossing it under a nearby palm tree, and rush into the water, splashing salt as it gets deeper. We soon tumble forward and break into a swim towards the center.
Then I dive. The lines of water currents stream around my body. So pleasantly warm on my skin after the cold of the evening air. My eyes are closed, and I drift in the sensation, the calm comforting silence of the ocean depths surrounding me.
It was Sev who first introduced me to the sea. And it was him too who first taught me how to swim. He brought me to this place not too long after my family moved here. Ever since then, we started meeting here a lot. We’d swim, walk, and sometimes just lie in the sand and talk. He has been the best friend I’ve had so far. Because somehow, he understands me. He understands how I like to be by myself, and how my mind is always wandering off. And yet he still stays with me through it all.
And so, that is why I should tell him. About what I am. He’ll understand. I know he will. He’s my friend. I’m sure it won’t change a thing.
I open my eyes and make a swim for the surface. My head splashes out of the seawater and I gasp for air. I shake my head, ridding my face of the dripping saltiness. The day is almost dark. The first star has just appeared in the twilight sky.
Not too far in front of me, Sev breaks out on to the surface with a shallow splatter and takes a deep sharp breath. He wipes the water from his face, then does a stroke in my direction. My gaze wanders up to the sky as he approaches.
“Thinking about somethin’?” Sev asks beside me.
I lower my head. “Actually,” I say softly. And as I slowly lift my eyes to meet his, “There’s something I wanted to tell you.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “Eh?”
“Actually…” How am I going to tell him? I spent all this time pondering on whether or not to tell him and yet I never really thought about how I was actually going to do it. “I…” I’m not sure how to say this. Sev watches me, waiting.
I look at Sev, then at my hands. I breathe. “Okay, watch me.” Asking him to do the exact thing he’d been doing already.
I bring my hands to the surface and cup my palms together, a small enclosure protected from the ever-moving waves. Slowly my hands warm up, and the center of my palms sizzle, steam, and begin to dry. Then, with a burst of heat and light, a little matchstick-sized spark leaps up into the air between my palms and forms a tiny flame.
Sev splashes backward. His eyes wide. His expression wild.
I quickly submerge my hands into the water. The flame dies with a sputter. “Sev, it’s okay,” I try to say calmly. “Just a little spark. Nothing crazy. It’s okay.” I try to swim closer to him. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all.
Sev moves backward, his face a mix of hurt, pain, and anger. “You, Ars’nyr,” he hisses between his teeth.
Ars’nyr. I’ve no idea what that means. And from the way he says it, I’m not sure I want to know what it means. But at least he already has a name for people like me. At least he knows that I’m for real.
I keep trying to swim closer to Sev but the distance just keeps on growing. “What’s wrong?”
“You don’t understand.” Sev is no longer swimming backward and yet I’m still not getting any closer to him.
“Understand what?!” I have to shout. The waves are getting stronger. The sea is starting to feel colder.
Then, I realize. The water around Sev had begun to rise, lifting his body up onto a growing wave. No matter how much I swim forward, I’m slipping down the side. The sea is churning and swelling and cold. I stop swimming and let myself fall back. It’s my turn to watch Sev and wonder what on earth is going on. But Sev just looks away.
Then he dives. Sev, body, water and all. A great crash and a giant ripple. He disappears, beneath the water and behind the ensuing waves that push me back. I splash and splutter as I fight through the consequent disorder of seawater.
The waves are quick to settle down again. As if nothing had ever happened. But Sev is no longer near. I spot him emerging out of the water. Far ahead, near the shore. I splash and swim in his direction. I won’t make it. He is already treading sand.
I run. I flame. I don’t care if I’m seen. I am splashing in steam as I skim the ocean surface. I’m half on fire and half submerged in water. I’m not letting him get away without an explanation. I burn and boil, and at last I tumble, onto the sand, a few steps behind him. Just as he reaches the palm tree we tossed our shirts under.
“Sev!” I shout, out of breath, out of words. “What’s going on?”
Sev stops. But he doesn’t answer.
“You can control water,” I continue, stepping closer. “You’re an elemental. Just like me!”
“I am nothing like you,” Sev replies coldly, turning around and staring me in the eye. The anger gone, replaced by more hurt. “You don’t understand.” A slight quiver to his voice makes me swallow mine. “My people have the sea in our veins. We come from the ocean. Its waters protect us, we protect it. Men of flame only bring destruction. We can’t have nothing to do with them. Especially me, a child of the waves.”
“But you know me.” I stand up to him. “I am nothing like that. I –”
I would continue. But Sev stops me. His arms close around me. He hugs me tight. His arms around my back, his bare chest against mine. His skin is cold, freezing, and wet. And yet I can feel his heart beat strong and warm. Or is it mine? The seconds stretch into minutes, or so they seem. I don’t dare to disrupt the moment, but I’m afraid of what it might mean.
I don’t notice the steam rising between our bodies. But he does. He lets go, and looks away. “I’m sorry.” His voice catches in his throat. “We just can’t be together. Water and fire. They just don’t mix.”
He is picking up his shirt. He glances back at me. “Don’t worry, your family is safe. I won’t say nothing.” Then he looks away again. “But this is the end between us.” And with that he walks away.
And I just stand there, watching him go. Until he disappears from sight, under the dim blue light of dusk. He never looks back. Never looks back at me.
I slowly bend and pick up my shirt, pulling it over my shoulder. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to feel. Anger? I can’t bring myself to be angry at him. Regret? He still had the right to know, no matter how things turned out to be. In fact, seeing how this meant so much to him, wouldn’t it be all the more reason to tell him? Or do I regret being his friend in the first place? I don’t know.
I begin to walk in the direction I came. It’s as dark as dark can be on the ocean edge. I taste the salt on my lips. I feel it in my eyes. The coarse saltiness of the sea is all over my skin. But I don’t think. I just can’t anymore. I walk home in the silence of the waves and the darkness of dusk.
