Brine Read Free Page A

love her enough to take her seriously? He didn’t exactly think outside the box. He would never believe this.
    But Allen might.
    Bastard , she said, slapping the water. She hadn’t spoken to Allen in years.
    She looked down at her left hand. The engagement ring was gone. She felt both guilt and exhilaration.
    She tipped her head back with a sigh and admired the comfort her tail gave her as she hovered effortlessly in the water. With a strong kick, she dove underwater, and her tail breached the surface gracefully. She kept her arms extended out before her to help with balance. She felt the water stream past her and sensed her wake trailing behind her like a long, billowing gown. Her breath was heavy when she reached the surface. Water dripped from her face, causing her to blink. She puffed the droplets off her lips with heavy exhales, but she was feeling more confident in her ability to negotiate this new form.
    She dove again, and this time she kept her arms at her sides and used only her tail to propel her forward. She was wobbly at first, but quickly she found a way to relax her arms and balance in the water without twisting or rolling to one side. She could feel strength all the way down her spine, her body surging forward with the movement initiated by her tail.
    Not prepared for this kind of exertion, she surfaced often for air. Adrenaline pounded through her veins and drove her forward. She wasn’t sure exactly where she was, but she suspected she was still in Baja and home was to the north. She swam fast, checking her position when she surfaced. Her pace was astounding with this tail, possibly even reckless. She paused with heavy breaths, making sure the land was directly to her right. She planned to hug the shore in order to stay the course.
    With this speed, she hoped she’d reach the States before sunrise.

4
    THE WAVES CARRIED HER TO THE LAND. There was no way she could swim to shore against an opposing pull. She was bone-tired, grateful for the incoming tide. The pebbly sand beneath assured her she’d made it. Resting her head on the soggy pillow of the shore, she blinked her eyes at the familiar lights of the 101. Only one car passed. No one was around at this perfect hidden hour. Night owls were tucked in bed. Joggers’ alarm clocks were yet to chime.
    She pushed up onto her elbows and inched forward, dragging her fluke behind her, grunting at the task. Just when she thought she was in the clear, the sea rushed in, showing her the little progress she had made. She plopped back onto her face, the sand crunching in her teeth as she rolled onto her back.
    Light pollution. There were so many less stars here than there had been in Baja.
    Baja. She’d just swum back from Baja .
    She rolled onto her belly. No one could find her like this.
    She spun onto her back again. This was the way to get herself out of the water: she’d roll herself to dry land. A clumsy movement, but at least she could make progress with each flop of her hulking lower half.
    After countless turns, she paused, a bit dizzy. Chest heaving. She closed her eyes. A gracious moment of rest. She could’ve happily slept there.
    As her breath slowed, her body dried in the gentle breeze coming off the ocean. Like a heavy blanket pulled away, she felt the thick skin of her lower half returning to normal. When she sensed that she could move her legs separately, she pulled the two apart. An interesting release: like when she was a young girl and her father would bury her in the sand and she would pry herself out of his mold.
    She reached down and felt the thick tail skin dissolving, thinning to a slimy egg-white layer. She propped herself up on her elbows. In the dim glimmer from the nearby lights of the parking lot, she watched thicker clumps of skin slough away. The process was disgusting and fascinating. Her toes began to re-form like buds on a limb in spring. She was a wax sculpture remolded. She wiggled her toes, a movement so foreign and yet so