Bear, Otter, and the Kid (The Seafare Chronicles 1)

“I still love you, Anna,” I whispered. “Just… just not in the way I feel like I should.”

“Why, Bear? What is it about you that makes you not able to love me?”

There she was, giving me another opening, another chance to level the playing field, to be completely 100 percent truthful with her. And that’s when I knew for sure that she understood what Otter meant to me and what I meant to him. It was a realization that I could’ve come to a long time before, if I hadn’t been so damned scared about what it could mean. I’d had my inklings, my suspicions that she knew about me and Otter, but that was the moment when I could no longer doubt what it was she saw in me, in us. I opened my mouth to finally be honest with her because, I told myself, didn’t she deserve it? Out of everyone in the world (aside from Otter, of course), hadn’t she earned the right to know? I’d lead her down a path in which there was no alternative, no other way around. Because, you see, as soon as that epiphany struck me about her, another one hit just as fast: I knew that regardless of how it would have happened, regardless of how long it would have taken, Otter would have found me again, or I would have found him. I’d always thought the idea of fate was for fools and Celine Dion. It would seem, though, that it was only a matter of time.

“Because I can’t,” I said, hating myself for not being able to give her what she asked for. “It has nothing to do with you, Anna. It’s something about me.”

She nodded and looked away, but not before I saw the hurt in her eyes, hurt that I had once again caused. I cursed myself silently, wondering what in God’s name it would take for me to finally be able to tell the truth. Anything would be better than seeing that look on her face. Anything. Even if I told her, and she looked at me the same way, at least then she would have had justifiable reason to do so. Maybe she could… maybe she would—

“Anna?” I said, my breath hitching in my chest. “Anna, I—”

“No, Bear,” she whispered, shaking. “I can’t do this now. I can’t. I thought you were ready to—to tell me. I thought you could one day open up and tell me all that you’re hiding from me.”

“I’m trying,” I said harshly. “This isn’t something that’s easy for me!”

Her eyes flashed. “It’s not making it any easier if you keep it all to yourself!” she shouts. “How can I ever hope to be there for you if you don’t trust me!”

I couldn’t look at her. Eventually I heard her footsteps as she walked away.

As soon as I got home, Otter saw the look on my face and swept me up in those big arms of his and cradled me like I was nothing more than a child. It’s okay, he whispered in my ear. It’s okay. As I began to calm, my thoughts strayed to the revelation I’d had earlier, the one about him and me. I knew then that I had to do everything in my power to make sure he stayed with me. I had to do everything to make sure I never lost him. Call it fate, call it destiny, call it a cyclone of raging hormones, I don’t care. Much like I think that Ty would be lost without me, I knew I’d be lost with Otter.

So time passed, and there were good days and there were bad days. There were days where the sun shone so bright that it felt like I was staring directly into it. There were days when I could feel the ocean lapping at my foot and thunder rumbling in the distance, never coming closer, but always making its presence known. There were days that I felt as high as I’d ever been in my life, but they were followed by the feeling of falling into a chasm that never ended. Through it all, though, he was there. He tethered me to him, my magnetic north, while my mind went here or there. I always knew. Somehow I always knew.

I’VE heard it said those couples that fight are the ones that stay together. That disagreements and arguments strengthen relationships. I’ll be the first to say that’s bullshit. Otter and I rarely fought about anything, and when we did, it was over stupid petty crap that one of us was too stubborn to let go. There were minor things, inconsequential to everybody and everything. I’m talking like me canceling plans to have to work or Otter not taking pictures anymore (I knew, though, that if I continued to press that one, that we would have a huge blowout, so I always stopped). You know: things that are easy to get over and you wonder why you were even remotely pissed off in the first place. But I don’t mean to say that we never had a big one, one that left us both shaking and licking our wounds. All I can remember is that while I was screaming at him and he was lashing out at me, I wished it was over. And when it was, both of us were wide-eyed, and I felt sick and never wanted to do anything like that again. If this was what strengthened relationships, then I was fine with where ours was.

It all started because of Creed.

“WHERE’S the Kid?” Creed asked me as I walked into his house a couple of weeks after my conversation with Anna.

“He’s hanging out with his friend Gage,” I told him. I closed the door behind me and immediately started listening for sounds of my boyfriend, wondering why he hadn’t come thumping down the stairs yet.

“Gage?” Creed asked. “I thought his friend’s name is Alex.”

I rolled my eyes. “Apparently he made another one. I swear to God, they’re popping up everywhere. I didn’t know this many people went to his school.” Much like I was trying to work at everything else, I was making an attempt to let the Kid go do his own thing. He seemed to be shedding his former self like it was a dusty old skin that he’d been wrapped up in for too long. I was doing my very best to try not to get in the way of his newfound affinity for anything and everything Kid-like. There were more overnights, more can-he-go-out-and-plays. I was worried and scared, but constantly told myself that I wasn’t being fair to either of us. Besides, with him doing his own thing every now and then, it gave Otter and me some much-deserved alone time.

“That’s cool,” Creed said. “You okay with it?”

I shrugged, half-listening to him, half-listening for Otter. “I think he’s earned it. At least I know it’s something he wants to be doing.”

Creed nodded. “Well, that’s good.” He paused, considering something in his head before he said it. He opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again.

I crossed my arms. “What?”

He grinned. “I may have to bow out of tonight. I kinda-sorta forgot that I’d made plans.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. We’d said we were going to barbecue tonight while the weather was good. It was late July, and it had been hot, hot for the first time since I could remember. The ocean was still cold as hell, but we could stand on the beach without worrying about freezing our asses off. But Creed leaving had its advantages. I hated to admit it at the time, but I was relieved at this turn of events, more so than I probably should have been. With Creed out of the house, it would leave Otter and me to do… Otter and Bear things.

“Where you running off to?” I

asked, trying to push the thought of riding Otter until we both came out of my head.

He shrugged. “Just out… with some friends.”

“Who?”

“No one you know,” he said vaguely, averting his eyes.

I snorted. “What aren’t you saying, Creed?” It looks like we’re both keeping secrets, I thought, not as amused at the prospect as I thought I’d be.