“What’s wrong?” He looks over his shoulder at me.
I spit to rid myself of the taste and wipe my mouth on the shoulder of my suit, though that only makes my lips sting. “It tastes terrible,” I say, panting.
The water splashes my face again but this time I clamp my mouth shut.
The going is slow since the ocean wants to push us back tothe shore. If our motor had not been a varsity soccer player, we might be at a standstill altogether.
Ten yards out.
A large swell shoves us at an angle, but Court counterbalances it with his weight. Suddenly we’re moving toward the greater ocean. The water’s fickle, and it’s hard to know if we’re coming or going. My stomach roils at the topsy-turvy movement as we flatten out again.
“You do this for fun?” I gasp.
“You’d like it better if you had your own board.” He glances back at me again. The water collecting on his eyelashes drips onto his cheek as he winks. “But I wouldn’t.”
Oddly, his flirting eases the queasiness in my gut, but I don’t let on.
He starts paddling again and after a few more yards, I spot it, a small tangle of black kelp with hollow bulbs that grow in intervals like Christmas lights. It’s some subspecies of bladder wrack, a kelp commonly found in the Baltic Sea. The tangle floats in a four-yard-wide channel between the sea lion rock and the high volcanic walls that surround the cove. Water churns like a giant washing machine around the rock and through the channel. We couldn’t go through that. The water would toss us around like a pair of socks.
“See that blackish stuff tangled in the giant kelp?”
He stops paddling and lifts himself up to see.
“I should’ve brought a fishing pole,” I mutter.
“I’ll swim it. But that means you’ll be on your own for a minute.”
“Are you sure? It looks kind of rough.”
“Piece of cake. I’m a certified lifeguard.”
I remember the lifeguard sweatshirt he was wearing the day of the bee sting. Still, even seals drown.
“I’m going to slide out from the right.”
“Okay,” I say dubiously.
Shifting one limb at a time, I uncage him. He barrel rolls into the water in one smooth motion, then quickly resurfaces. As he holds the board steady, I spread myself on top of it.
“Relax, okay? The easiest way to float is to relax.”
“Relax. Got it.” Laying my cheek on the board, I command my muscles to melt. Just another comatose sea lion here. Nothing’s going to happen.
He treads water beside me for a moment, then smoothly glides away.
When Court reaches the channel, the water pulls him behind the rock and out of sight. I push myself up to try to see better, causing the board to slide around under me. Don’t panic. Relax. “Court?”
One of the sea lions barks, then flips onto its other side.
What if the water current’s too strong? What if it drags him out to sea? The seconds plod by. This was a bad idea, a very bad idea. So I’m locked in the tower, it’s not worth Court’s life. Why didn’t I think this through a little more? “Court!”
No response.
The board starts to turn to the left so I no longer face the channel. Water chases itself around the black rock, throwing up white mist and seafoam. Cupping my hands the way Court did, I dig in and try to turn the ship around. The water numbs my arms but I keep going, until finally I’m facing the channel again.
Court’s head pops out of the surface. He drags himself by long strokes toward me.
I whimper in relief.
