Waveborn

4

Cold.

The water hit with such a shock of cold that Cass thought she was going to pedal up and out of it again like some cartoon character. Instead, she flailed and splashed and smashed one arm against a piling as salt water poured into her raincoat and filled her shoes.

She gave a hard kick, righting herself and pushing her head above water.

"How do you like it?" Jason yelled.

She spun until she could make out his form, black against gray sky, striped by the web of hair covering her eyes. "What?" she sputtered. Water dragged at her coat, at her legs, as she tried to stay afloat, and he was asking how she liked it? A wave of fury slammed through her. "What the hell are you talking about?"

She managed to drag one arm from the water long enough to shove wet hair out of her face. Jason became clearer: black hair dark above his yellow raincoat, arms crossed over his chest.

"I asked how you like it, going for a swim in this water."

She was open-mouthed with disbelief. It was a bad idea; a surge lifted her and slapped salt water into her mouth. Bile burned her throat as she coughed and all the while she was still flailing at the water, fighting the drag of shoes and clothes to keep afloat. She should kick them off-that's what you were supposed to do if you fell into the ocean with your clothes on-but she was only a dozen feet from the dock. Besides, it was her only coat.

Jason watched her the way she might watch a barracuda. "Just tell me what the hell you want with me."

Cass yanked at her sleeves as she sculled, freeing first one arm, then the other. Instantly, swimming became easier.

"I know you're following me," he said.

"Following you?" Was everyone on this island crazy? She gave a mighty kick and tossed her coat onto the dock. She wasn't cold anymore. She was hot, pulsing with anger instead of blood. Jason just stood there. What. The. Hell. "Isn't this the point when you apologize profusely and offer to help me out of the water?"

"I nearly drowned last week, you know that? And now you show up here as if nothing happened. Is this all some sick joke or-"

"Last week, I was in Argentina."

For the first time, he faltered. "What?"

"I. Was. In. Argentina." She spoke slowly, enunciating each syllable. "We sailed in last night. I don't know what you're talking about. Okay?"

"No frickin' way. I saw you."

A few strokes took her to the stern of the Andiamo, where a ladder extended into the water. It was surprisingly difficult to pull herself up: her clothes dragged at her, heavy with water, and her forearm ached where she'd hit it. She bit her lip, determined not to show how much it hurt.

Jason glared at her. "I want some answers!"

A shudder began deep in her gut and trembled through her entire body. She was shaking with shock and anger and so furious she hardly dared speak-furious at this jerk who'd sent her into the bay without so much as an apology, furious at herself for caring, for thinking he was cute and might be nice.

Jason opened his mouth again.

No. Freaking. Way. She couldn't stand to hear another word.

"Get lost," she said. When he didn't move, she lunged at the side of the boat. "Go on! Get out of here!"

He stared.