Breathless: A Firelight Novella (HarperTeen Impulse) by Sophie Jordan Read Free Book Online

going to be here, are you?”
    My face warms. What? He reads minds? “I didn’t say that.”
    He’s too intuitive. He buries his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels. “That’s okay. I’ll be here anyway.” He steps away, walking backward, his gaze still fixed on me. “Hope you change your mind.”
    Then he turns and leaves me standing there.
    My skin relaxes, ceases to snap and swim with heat. Suddenly the night feels cold.

6
    T he next day Mom is good on her word and Dad joins us in the lake. We tease him relentlessly. To say he’s a poor swimmer wouldn’t be fair. As a draki, he has above-average coordination. Still, Mom and I swim laps around him and torture him in a game of Marco Polo.
    “All right, you two. You’ve had your fun. Let’s head back and start dinner.”
    I look from my parents to the distant dock, and beyond that to the narrow, two-story house. “I think I’ll swim a little bit longer.”
    Mom and Dad exchange looks, communicating silently about whether they should allow this or not.
    Mom faces me again, her gaze narrow and piercing. Not just in an intense, concerned motherly way, either. She’s a draki at her core, too. A species that has evolved through cunning and sharp instincts. Just like me.
    “All right. Don’t be long.”
    “I won’t.”
    “And watch out for the boats.” She motions up and down the lake. “They drive too fast through here.”
    I angle my head and give her a look that says, You really think I’m going to get hit by a boat? Me?
    She rolls her eyes. “Don’t be cocky. And don’t …” The rest of her words fade, the warning implicit. Don’t manifest .
    I nod and give a small wave as they head for shore.
    Alone, I swim in place, my legs and arms barely moving in order to keep me afloat. It’s a mindless effort. Like blinking.
    I rotate in a small circle, arching my neck, feeling the delicious drag of current through my long hair. My fingers sift through the water as I spin. I pause, eying the random boats cutting down the center of the lake. The opposite shore beckons. It doesn’t look too far.
    With a quick glance around me, I dive under, telling myself that I’m not disobeying Mom exactly . My gills always appear when I’m in the water. I can’t control that. I haven’t manifested.
    I block out what my mother would reply to that and glide under the water’s surface, my arms stroking wide and slow, my pores contracting, skin luxuriating in the slick taste.
    Fish avoid me, their dark, gleaming shapes darting away as I approach. Water pulses in and out of my gills beneath my swimsuit. A boat roars above me, churning the water into white foam, and I know I have to be about midlake by now.
    Scanning the surface, I ascend, making sure I’m not going to pop up in the midst of any swimmers or boats.
    I break the surface slowly, eyes first, then the rest of my face, nose, lips, chin. I swim toward the opposite shore, mymovements languid. I pause as something moves in the lake ahead of me. Another swimmer. Right in my path. As he comes closer, I make out that it’s a guy. His face and shoulders cut above the water, arms flying out over his head in hard strokes.
    As he nears, his face comes into focus. Even though he’s wearing goggles, I recognize him. My stomach dips and spins like I’m caught up in a tidal pool. I debate sinking down into deep waters again and letting him pass, but I hesitate, and then he sees me. Too late.
    In the back of my mind I wonder if maybe I didn’t want it to be too late. If I didn’t want him to see me.
    He slides his swim goggles up onto his head. “Az?” A slow smile curves his lips.
    “What are you doing out here?” I blurt.
    “Practicing. Got keep in shape in the summer.”
    That’s right. He’s the swim champ.
    I nod. Water sloshes up my chin. “You cross the lake?”
    “Yeah.”
    “That’s far.”
    “I’m used to it. What about you?” His points to our dock, a tiny speck in the distance now.