Adrian stole the first kiss on accident. She had been wading in the creek with Maddie again, the creek curled around the base of the hill—pebbled and shallow and cold—when she stepped over a sharp drop-off and floundered in the sudden depth, hooves flailing, head submerged. Maddie pulled her up before she had time to be afraid.

“Careful, dumbass,” she scolded.

Adrian coughed up a mouthful of river and laughed. Her curly hair was flattened to the top of her head, and two small horns poked out. “Why? I have my own personal lifeguard.”

“The first rescue is free. Next time’s gonna cost you.”     

Maddie glided to the muddy bank, Adrian in tow. She fumbled as she set her down, and their lips and noses bumped clumsily. Adrian laughed again.

Maddie’s gills flapped open and shut in a flustered sort of way.

“What’s your mom making for dinner?” Adrian asked to distract her. “Can I come over and eat with you guys?”

“She’s not my mom.”

“Oh. I just figured she was, ‘cause you live together.”

“We look nothing alike. She’s not even a nereid.” The dumbass was implied this time.

Adrian considered this. She had only seen Maddie’s guardian from a distance. The woman had burnt-orange hair, a round face, and pointed ears. Maddie was darker, leaner, more fluid. The small mountain town was populated almost exclusively by satyrs, so Adrian had limited knowledge of other species; meeting Maddie earlier that year had been something of a revelation.

“Who is she, then?” asked Adrian.

“A friend.” She ducked underwater before Adrian could ask anything else. Her hair billowed above her weightlessly like an astronaut on the moon.

***

Maddie lived in a cobblestone house at the river’s edge. Adrian trudged downstream with her, fatigue gnawing at her legs—what satyrs possessed in rock-climbing endurance, they lacked in aquatic stamina. She was relieved when the house bobbed into view.

“Theo’s probably not home yet,” said Maddie. “But we can go inside.”

“Alright—one second.” Adrian clomped her hooves into the grass, shaking off the clotted mud.

“You’re such a neat freak.”

“I’m a polite guest.”

“Whatever makes you feel better.”

They sat on the living room carpet listening to the radio while Maddie did magic. She turned a teacup into a plastic water bottle, made a pillow on the couch disappear and then reappear across the room, and guessed what number Adrian was thinking of in one shot. Adrian clapped ecstatically after every trick.

“I didn’t know nereids could do all that,” she said, amazed.

“I’m extra powerful.” Maddie’s eyes flickered away from Adrian’s. “Don’t tell anyone, though.”

“I won’t.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Maddie’s lips twitched, prodding a small dimple out of her left cheek.

“Is that why you don’t live with your real parents?” asked Adrian. “Cause you have too much magic?”

She nodded, not looking up. “It wasn’t safe for me in the ocean.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. I like it here.” 

Maddie’s not-mother came home with a pizza box and a bag of raw shrimp. She greeted Adrian warmly.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” she said, extending her hand. “Call me Theo.”

Her eyes were moss-colored, and a waft of freshly cut grass clung to her cardigan. Telltale dryad scent, deduced Adrian.  

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Theo.”

“Kiss-ass,” said Maddie.

Theo raised an eyebrow, and Maddie muttered a half-apology. They sat around the kitchen table. While Theo and Adrian divvied up the pizza, Maddie clawed into the bag of shrimp with great gusto—hunks of ice splintered across the room as she noisily scrounged up fish after frozen fish.

Adrian put on her best conversing-with-adults voice. “How was your day, Ms. Theo?”

She smiled. “Not bad. Just busy. Did Mads tell you what I do?”

“Don’t call me that.” A half-chewed shrimp fell out of Maddie’s mouth.

“No, she didn’t,” answered Adrian.

“I’m a social worker. I mainly do school counseling now, but I sometimes help out with child welfare.”

“I heard that dryads are usually botanists or gardeners,” said Adrian. “It’s cool you’re doing something different.”

 Theo’s answering smile was polite, but not as wide as before. “I enjoy it.”

Comfortable silence settled over them, broken only by Maddie’s steady munching.

“High school is going fast,” said Adrian. “I don’t really know what I wanna do after.”

“That’s alright,” said Theo. 

Maddie smirked. “You should be a lifeguard. You’d be a natural.”

***

Adrian’s phone buzzed at six in the morning.

“Hello?”

“Theo’s dad died.”

Adrian sat up slowly, her elbow sinking into the pillow. “What?”

“He died.”

“How?”

“He didn’t wake up this morning.”

“But isn’t he a dryad? How could he die?”

“He’s human,” said Maddie. “Theo’s mom is a dryad, but her dad was human.”

This took Adrian about ten seconds to process. She rubbed her eyes. “It’s still early. Maybe he’s just sleeping in.”

“He’s dead, Adrian.”

A coil of fear wormed into her chest. She had only seen death in the form of roadkill and couldn’t imagine a corpse without imagining a halo of flies and clotted blood. “Did it hurt?”

“Theo’s mom said it was peaceful. Whatever that means.”

Adrian was unconvinced, but she let the issue rest. “What’s gonna happen?”

“A funeral, obviously.”

“Oh. Is there—is there anything you need?”

“Come with me.”

“Am I allowed to? I didn’t know Theo’s dad.”

“Well, I knew him, and you’re allowed to come if I say you are.”

Adrian pictured Maddie standing alone in some cold, dark void—the kind of place where a funeral would happen—hugging her arms to her chest. “I’ll be there,” she said.      

Maddie hung up without saying goodbye.

***

The service was predictably somber. It was held outdoors in a nearby park, which gave the event a comforting degree of normalcy. It was so well-attended that Adrian had trouble finding a seat. She was slightly out of breath from riding her bike, and she squeezed an arm around her ribs to ease the cramp. Apparently, Theo’s father had been a dentist; Adrian noticed that most of the mourners had distractingly white and even teeth.

Shrill wind stifled Theo’s voice as she delivered a eulogy. Her face was tired. After glimpsing her dryad mother, Theo’s half-humanity was glaring—her mother’s skin was a smarter green, her ears a neater point, the leafy scent perfuming her more saturated. At some point during the speech, a hazy rain began to fall.

Adrian studied the back of Maddie’s head from her seat a few rows behind, wishing she could smooth her wavy hair back from her face. She figured Maddie would probably bite her hand off if she tried. She had let Adrian braid it once, let her thread the dark strands into a waterfall plait. Adrian had rubbed her thumb up and down over the smooth notches under the guise of making it neater. Eventually, Maddie grew impatient and yanked the braid from her grip.

 As people stood to leave, they filtered past the three-generation mourning trio to offer condolences.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” said Adrian when it was her turn. She had researched appropriate phrases to use around grieving people.

“Thank you.” Theo squeezed her shoulder. “I appreciate it.”

The dryad mother dipped her head silently.

 Maddie didn’t call Adrian a kiss-ass.

The two of them walked together for a little while, slipping away from the crowd and meandering to the lily-pad clotted pond at the park’s center.

“Were you close with him?” asked Adrian.

Maddie shrugged. “Not really. But Theo was.”

“He was nice?”

“Yeah.” She rolled her shoulders as if to wring an ache from them. “That’s why Theo’s so nice.” 

“It is?”

“People with nice parents are nice. You have nice parents, don’t you?”

“I do.”

 “There you have it.”

“You think I’m nice?”

Maddie gave her an odd look. “You’re the nicest person I’ve ever met.”

Adrian’s ears felt hot, and she found that she couldn’t quite look Maddie in the face. Maddie snickered, and they took a few steps in silence.

“We moved here because he was sick,” Maddie said. “Theo wanted to be closer to home.”

“But he’s dead now.”

“Obviously.”

Adrian’s throat constricted. “Does that mean you’re gonna leave?”

“No. She wants to stay for a while. To help her mom out. Plus, we like it here.”

Relief. Adrian tried to tamper down her excitement, but she knew Maddie saw. 

“Do you think Theo’s mom is gonna get a new husband?” she asked.

“Probably,” said Maddie. “This one wasn’t her first.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. She was married to some other human a long time ago. They had kids together, too.”

“And none of them are alive anymore?”

“No.”

“Oh.” Adrian furrowed her brow. “It must be weird, to be alive after your kids are gone. And your husband.”

“I guess.”

“Maybe this time she’ll marry another dryad. That would probably be better.”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” said Maddie. Her voice was sharp, and Adrian backed away from its edge.      

“Sorry.”           

Maddie toed off her shoes and stepped into the pond. The mud squelched beneath her. Adrian watched as she leaned forward and splashed water on her face, watched as her gills sucked in the pale drops that ran down her neck.             

***

A few days later, Maddie got suspended from school. A boy in geometry class kicked the back of her chair, so she grabbed him by the horns and slammed his face into the desk. Adrian wasn’t sure whether the boy had kicked the chair on accident, but she missed Maddie all the same. Everything felt dull without her.

“I brought the notes you missed,” said Adrian, shuffling in place on the porch. She held out a stapled packet of loose-leaf. Maddie often made snide remarks about Adrian’s handwriting and its inscrutability, so she had tried extra hard to write neatly.

Maddie grunted in thanks. “Does Fiero still have a black eye?”

Adrian nodded. “You got him real good.”

“Good.” She ducked back inside and motioned for Adrian to follow. They sat stiffly on the edge of the couch. Adrian felt an odd sort of tension simmering around Maddie, and she wasn’t sure how to release it from her.

“Must be nice playing hooky,” she offered.

Maddie scowled. “Not really. My—Theo is mad at me. She keeps saying she’s not mad, but I know she is.”

“I don’t think she’d lie to you.”

Maddie’s legs swung back and forth, heels thudding dully against the cushion. She was small for her age—not the shortest girl in tenth grade, but close to it.

“Did you apologize?” asked Adrian.

“Not to her. But she made me write a letter to Fiero saying I was sorry. It was so stupid. I yelled at her.”

“But you wrote it.”

“Eventually.”

“I guess that’s something. It’s not nothing, anyway.”    

Maddie folded her arms behind her head. “You’re bad at this.”

“At what?”

“Giving advice.”

Adrian blinked. “Is that what I’m doing?”

“Forget it.” Maddie reached for the TV remote, and a Jeopardy! rerun flicked on. “This show is so easy. I bet I’m gonna guess all the answers.”

She did. Adrian guessed one correctly, too—she knew that the Catskill Mountains had their name derived from a word that meant “Wildcat Creek.” Having grown up in the region, all the scattered historical tidbits were embedded in Adrian’s psyche. She glowed when Maddie gave her a sidelong glance, quietly impressed.

***

They floated on their backs down the creek as spring approached summer, a gentle undertow nudging them around the bend. Two Ophelias with clasped hands and matching school uniforms. Overhead, the potbellied clouds began to empty.

“It’s raining,” said Adrian.

Maddie laughed, sharp and biting. “Is it? I hadn’t noticed. Are you gonna tell me we’re in a river, too? Here’s something really groundbreaking—did you know that we’re outside?”

Adrian rolled onto her stomach. She slipped her fingers from Maddie’s grip. “You’re mean.”

A beat of quiet. “I’m not mean.”

“Maybe not on purpose,” said Adrian. “But you like making me feel stupid.”

Maddie frowned. “I don’t think you’re stupid.”

This took Adrian by surprise. “No?”

“I’m just teasing.”

“Some of it is teasing and some of it isn’t. Or doesn’t feel like it, anyway. It’s hard for me to tell the difference.” She paused, weighing her next words. “You’re my best friend, you know.”

Cold rain popped against the creek’s surface. Maddie dug her legs into the mud. She took Adrian’s face in her hands and kissed her fiercely. It wasn’t an accident.

“I thought you might,” said Adrian when they broke apart. “But I wasn’t sure.”

“Dumbass.”

***

Adrian became a regular guest at Maddie’s house. Most days after school, she could be found in the kitchen rummaging for chips, in the living room nestled on the sofa, in Maddie’s room sitting next to her on the bed and laughing at whatever snarky joke she was making, kissing her in between smiles. Time moved softly, brightly.

Theo was frazzled and snappish one afternoon.

“Why are you always making a mess?” she barked at Maddie. She had left a heap of ice shavings on the kitchen table from her latest frozen fish snack. “I don’t know why you can’t be neat.”

Maddie glowered. “What’s your problem?”

To Adrian’s surprise, Theo took a moment to collect herself, pinching the bridge of her nose and turning away.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m out of sorts today. My mother is being difficult. It’s nothing to do with you—I should have gotten my emotions under control before I came home. I’ll make sure to do that from now on.”

Adrian was impressed. “I think that’s the best apology I’ve ever heard.”

Some of the tension eased from Theo’s mouth as she laughed. “I’ve had a lot of practice.”

“Really?”

“I once took a course on interpersonal conflict, and we had an entire unit about apologies. A good, thorough apology has four parts: accountability, an explanation, an offer of repair, and a commitment to do better going forward.”

“I think you checked all the boxes,” said Adrian.

Theo’s gaze moved to Maddie, who was looking disinterestedly at the light fixture on the ceiling. “Mads? Are we good?”

She shrugged. “What’d Daphne do to piss you off?” 

Theo waved a nonchalant hand. “It doesn’t matter. We’ll figure it out—we always do.”

“Glad to hear it,” said Maddie curtly.

Adrian frowned. “She said sorry.”

“Whatever.” She started slouching up the stairs. “Come on.”

“Maddie, wait,” said Theo.

Adrian’s surprise grew when Maddie stopped and turned back to Theo, an eyebrow quirked expectantly.

“Come here.”

Maddie held her stoic mask firmly in place. She seemed to mentally list out several pros and cons before thudding back down to Theo.

“I’m sorry,” said Theo quietly. “I shouldn’t have gotten upset with you.”

She held out her arms, and Maddie reluctantly entered them, letting Theo squeeze her close and sway back and forth, wringing the agitation out of her. Maddie grumbled and elbowed her way out. She was trying to look unhappy, but Adrian could tell she was pleased. “You’re so embarrassing. Come on, Adrian.”

As Adrian bounded upstairs in Maddie’s wake, she threw a glance over her shoulder. Theo was smiling.

***

Adrian’s parents were unimpressed with Maddie’s dinner table etiquette, but they liked the bouquet of wild violets and daisies she brought for them.

Adrian’s father squinted over his bifocals. “So, you’ve always lived in the area?”

They were seated on wicker chairs in the backyard while the sun splintered over the mountains. All through the meal, Maddie entertained them with her magic. Most notably, she swapped the salt and pepper between their respective shakers, causing Adrian to put too much heat on her salad and cough up black flakes for five minutes. Her parents voiced their amazement, hoping the praise would satisfy Maddie enough to make her stop.

“We just moved here last summer,” said Maddie. “I used to live by the ocean. In the city.”

“Lovely,” chirped Adrian’s mother. Her hooves were a bright shade of coral. She often complained that the nail salon in town charged too much, but she couldn’t get the same results when she painted them herself. “And how do you like it here?”

“It’s pretty limited, as far as water goes,” said Maddie. “But it’s mostly good.”

“We don’t know much about nereids, I’m afraid. A bit uncommon in these parts.”

“I noticed.”

Adrian’s parents both worked at the local post office, and they were in the habit of cheerfully honking their delivery truck horns whenever they drove past one another. The conversation turned to discussion of new packaging regulations.

When it was Maddie’s curfew, Adrian walked her to the door. “I think they like you,” she whispered.

“I don’t care if they like me,” said Maddie, looking satisfied.

They stepped outside. The moon was round and ripe. Light from the living room skittered under the door and washed over the stoop.

“You have so many freckles,” said Maddie accusingly.

“Is that good?”

“It’s your face. Of course it’s good.”

“Oh.”

Maddie closed the space between them. Adrian was accustomed now to the cool brine of her lips, the insistent press of her mouth.

Maddie pulled back and averted her eyes again. “Tell your parents I said thanks for dinner.”

And she was gone, darting across the street to the neighborhood park. From there, she would take the river home. Adrian went back inside and found her whispering parents huddled in the kitchen. They started at the thud of the closing door, looking vaguely guilty.

“Well?” she asked.

“She seems like a nice girl,” said her mother.

“She does,” agreed her father.

“She is,” said Adrian.

She helped them wash the remaining dishes and cups.

“You’re really in love with her,” said Adrian’s father. “Aren’t you?”

“I think I am.”

Her father rested his elbows on the counter. “We want you to be careful. You’re so young still. Your heart is in no shape to take a real beating.”

“We’re fifteen. We’re just having fun.”

“That’s good.”

There was a stain on the checkered tablecloth, so Adrian grabbed a sponge and began to scrub it out. Over the rumble of the refrigerator, an owl sang in the distance.

“She didn’t talk much about her family,” said Adrian’s mother.

“It’s kind of a sensitive subject.”

“Well, what has she told you?”

Adrian shrugged. “It’s personal.”

“Too personal for us?”

“Is this an interrogation?” said Adrian. The stain was mostly gone from the tablecloth, but she kept determinedly scrubbing.

Her mother’s shawl tightened around her shoulders. “I’m just making conversation.”

When Adrian went upstairs to bed, she dreamed of an underwater castle where she could hold her breath forever.

***

Maddie shook the empty bottle of red hair dye in Theo’s face. “What the hell is this?”

“Language,” said Theo calmly.

Adrian tried to pretend she wasn’t listening. She felt she was intruding on something terribly private. Ever since Maddie found the bottle in the recycling bin a few hours ago, she had been shaking with rage, pacing the foyer in agitation, preparing to unleash on Theo. Adrian knew better than to prod her with questions.

“You’ve been dying your hair?” Maddie demanded.

“It was going gray, so I spruced it back up.”

Maddie looked thunderous. “And you didn’t say anything?”

“I don’t report to you, Mads. I don’t owe you updates on my beauty routine.”

“I don’t give a shit about your beauty routine,” snarled Maddie. “That’s not the point.”

“I think you’re too upset to have a conversation right now,” said Theo lightly. “Especially in front of your friend.”

“I’m not—”

“Calm down. And apologize to Adrian.” She swept from the room, her steps absorbed noiselessly by the carpet.

Maddie was breathing hard. The plastic bottle convulsed in her grip. It looked moments away from implosion.

“Wanna go swimming?” asked Adrian quietly.

Maddie shouldered past her and led the way to the creek.

***

“She’s not like us,” said Maddie. 

Adrian was seated next to her, cross-legged on the shallow bank. The water today was a deep bone-cold, reaching Adrian’s skin even through the fur of her legs.

“She’s half-human,” acknowledged Adrian. “But what does that mean?”

“It means she’s mortal,” said Maddie curtly. “She has a human lifespan. Just like Daphne’s other stupid dead kids and stupid dead husbands.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

Adrian flinched from the old mocking tone in Maddie’s voice. “It’ll be alright,” she offered. “It’s okay.”

An aggravated noise. “Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“Placate me. You don’t need to talk down to me like I’m some idiot kid.”

Adrian wrapped her arms around her knees, tugging them to her chest. “I’m not trying to. But Theo is still pretty young. I’m sure she has lots of time.”

“The second humans stop growing, they start dying. And now her dying is getting faster. She’s going gray and slowing down. And I keep finding new wrinkles on her face.”

Adrian scooped up a handful of river. She watched the strands of water spool out through the gaps in her fingers. “I don’t really understand death.”

Maddie’s leg struck out, kicking up an angry little wave. “Think if it was your parents. Imagine if they weren’t going to live forever, but you were. And after they were gone, you had to be without them for the rest of always.”              

“I thought Theo wasn’t your mother.”

“She’s not,” said Maddie. “But I’m her daughter.” She ground her teeth into her jaw and closed her eyes. “Adrian,” she said, “I can’t watch her die. It’ll kill me.”

“No, it won’t.” Adrian tried to sound confident. “You’ll survive it just like you’ve survived everything else.”

“What do you know about what I’ve survived?”

“Only what you’ve told me.”

“Exactly.” Maddie kneaded her hands together and cracked her knuckles. The sound was like the cap bursting off a glass soda bottle.

“You have a family, though,” said Adrian tentatively. “A real one.”

“I can’t live with them, remember?” said Maddie.

Adrian tried to stay level-headed. She ran through potential solutions, pretending she was a computer algorithm designed to fix Maddie’s problem. “Maybe there’s something you can do to make Theo immortal. Or at least stretch out her life.”

Maddie jerked her head up, eyes flashing. She stood and wiped muck from her scaly legs.    

Adrian fumbled to contribute more. “Since you’re so good at magic, maybe there’s a spell you can do. Or you can give some of your power to Theo.”

This suggestion was apparently a misstep.

“Don’t be an idiot,” snapped Maddie. “It doesn’t work like that.”

“But why not?” pressed Adrian. “You’re so strong. There must be something.”

“You don’t know anything. I’m telling you there’s not. I’m not—I don’t have that kind of magic.”

“Oh.”

“Is that all you can say?”

 “No. I’m just thinking.”

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

Shame prickled in Adrian’s stomach. She focused her gaze on a stack of clouds, refusing to blink until the corners of her eyes stopped stinging. “I’m just trying to help.”

“I don’t need it.”

“I’m going home, then,” said Adrian. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 She left without waiting for a reply.

***

 Theo:

      I don’t need you anymore. Don’t worry about me.

- Mads

 Adrian couldn’t figure out why she wasn’t surprised. Why she didn’t feel much of anything at all.

 “Did you know?” demanded Theo.

 “No.”

“She thinks I’m dying.”

“Is it true? That you’re mortal?”

 “Yes.”

Adrian studied Theo’s face. She pretended to be Maddie, watching the soft creases around those eyes deepen and darken, sucking inward to contour the bones beneath. “She was really upset.”

Several moments passed before Theo was composed enough to talk. “If she doesn’t want to be found, she won’t be.”

She folded the note back into her palm, and when she opened it again, it had vanished.

“Did Maddie teach you to do that?” asked Adrian, suddenly jealous. “Did she show you her magic?”

Theo said nothing.

Someone from the police station came to see Adrian later in the day. She answered a long set of questions to which she had few answers. The news of Maddie’s flight from town looped on every channel all evening long, and Adrian pressed her pillow over her ears to stifle it. Her parents were reluctant to give her space, but they stopped knocking on the door once Adrian locked it. Dusk came quick. Adrian’s room dimmed around the edges. She felt vacant, and she willed the feeling to stay. She stretched it, let it expand, shrouded herself in its deep quiet. She didn’t want to look at whatever was underneath. And when she peeled the vacancy back one day, there would be nothing left to see, not even a scar.                                                                 

***

The water was warm. Adrian dipped her head back and let her hair steep into it. It was calm in the pool, calmer than the river. Warmer. She didn’t miss Maddie. Everything was dull without her. If she didn’t want to be found, she wouldn’t be. The light was always on in Maddie’s room. Adrian didn’t miss her. Everything was dull. Dumbass. I can’t watch her die—it’ll kill me. There wasn’t any news. If she doesn’t want to be found, she won’t be. Adrian’s parents said she needed something to keep her occupied. A hobby. The water was warm. Chlorine made her sneeze.

Showing up at tryouts meant a guaranteed spot. They need one more swimmer, and you’re the only one who showed. Not even you can mess this up, dumbass. The whistle blew, and Adrian swam hard and didn’t surface for air until she reached the end of the lane.