Chapter 6

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oecanthinae
tree crickets

THE GENTLENESS OF spring guides me to the edge of the open ocean, soft sunlight threaded through my fingers. Matty stands on the familiar path gazing at the ocean below, his arms folded across the wooden railings bordering the pier. Faint streetlights line the dock, leaves falling alongside the crisp ocean breeze. I pull the sleeves of my cardigan tighter against my body, almost step on the flowers still in bloom.

"Hey," I say, as I stand within earshot, just as he turns toward me. There's a melancholic haze over the horizon, reminding me of yesterday's rendezvous, untold words in the dark. It's almost startling to see his boyish smile, a glint of familiarity lining in his eyes. I can't help but smile back, give a quick wave of my hand.

"You're here," he says, his expression warm despite the brisk air. "You found me."

"We were just here," I say, thinking of green eyes and ocean waves and frayed knots rough on the edges of gray sweaters. Eyes wide open. Fingertips close enough to touch. It's almost dizzying, these memories, and I have to steady my gaze. "You really wanted me to see the algae."

"Right." His eyes are crinkled around the corners. "It's really amazing. The greenhouse is right up the shore."

He takes one step closer to me, leading me off the boardwalk. I'm still in a daze, following his long strides and unhurried wake. By the time we reach the greenhouse, the sun radiates a golden haze around us, the reflection through the glass windows almost blinding.

"How was your day?" He asks easily, a quick glance my way. He unlocks the door to the greenhouse then gestures me inside. "You first."

"It was okay," I say, stepping inside. The algae pools are small, but take up the entire greenhouse. It smells salty, almost grass-like. The tubs have placards of species identifiers and a myriad of notes. A part of me feels out of place. "It's nice in here."

"You like it?" He asks, and I nod. "A lot of my work is just tending to the algae and measuring their growth." He points toward the back of the greenhouse. "That tub is for my project."

We walk to the back and stare at the algae. The greenhouse is much warmer and more humid than the outside air. "Why do you have to grow algae?" I ask, turning to look up at him. "What is your project even about?"

"It has a focus on genetics," he says. "There's a mutation in one of the genes we're trying to express." He shrugs, leaning against the table behind us to stretch his legs. "There's implications for sustainability."

I make my way next to him, our shoulders almost touching. I close my eyes momentarily, feeling the warmth of the setting sun across my eyelids. After a moment's pause and another glance his way, I say, "It's very peaceful here."

"It is, isn't it?" He says, a tousled smile playing across his face. It's messy in all the right places. And I could imagine it now, all the girls falling for him. If I were them, I'd fall for him, too.

"Yeah," I breathe out, feeling overcome by an emotion, a sudden feeling of emptiness and loss. Maybe this was the hurt I had been anticipating all along.

"Do you have time to go back to my apartment?" He asks, his profile illuminated by golden hues and copper undertones. The green in his eyes seem to be reflecting the algae shining through the water in the pools below. "There's something else I want to show you."

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