Where Will the Waves Take Us

Chapter 1

I roll down the back window, letting Zoey stick her head out to drink in the passing ocean view and the people wandering by. She usually doesn’t bark at passersby, but if they have a dog? Chaos. Her paws hang out the window as if she’s about to leap out, arrest them, and reprimand them for some unspeakable crime.

I park in an open spot and step out. The salty scent hits my nose, humid air clings to my skin, and the teasing sea breeze sweeps through—somehow making the stickiness worse. I open the back door and clip her leash—blue and white daisies—onto her collar before she can bolt after a poor seagull pecking at a fallen chip. Her black fur brushes against my arm as I pat her head gently.

The Husky-cross German Shepherd leaps out with the grace of a pillow, then waits just long enough for me to lock the car before taking charge. She drags me toward the beachfront like I’m her pet rather than the other way around. I don’t mind—it’s just that sometimes her enthusiasm could pull a twelve-ton truck without hesitation.

She stops at the coastline, tail wagging so fast it looks like a fan, tongue lolling from the side of her mouth. I chuckle softly and reach down to scratch behind her ear, earning a little whine as she sits, sand spraying everywhere from that ferocious tail. Her dark brown eyes sparkle like tiger-eye gemstones.

“If I let you run,” I whisper, leaning closer, “you promise to come back, right, Zozo?”

As if sealing our little agreement, she licks my cheek, and that is all the confirmation I need. I unclip the leash and watch her bolt down the coastline, her paws leaving soft, fleeting prints in the wet sand—tiny constellations in paw shape—before the waves claim them.

I remove my shoes and socks, letting the cool water seep between my toes and wrap around my ankles. The first touch shocks me, then melts into something soothing. A quiet reminder that the world can still be gentle even when it teeters on chaos. The rhythmic hush of the waves becomes a soft melody against the sand, matching the steady thump of my heart. I wish Mother and Father could feel this with me, though they’re too busy with the business—and Roland—to notice beauties like this.

When I lift my gaze, the sky greets me like an old friend. Stars stretch endlessly above, scattered as if God spilled sugar across the heavens, a masterpiece deemed worthy of mortals. A galactic cake with midnight frosting and silver dust, each shimmer a secret no one may know.

A breeze brushes past, tugging lightly at my black hair, carrying the scent of salt. Behind me, Zoey’s joyful barks echo as she chases the white foam, a wild black silhouette under the silver starlight. For a fleeting moment, everything balances—the cold water, the warm night, the vast blue above and below, and the loyal heartbeat at my back.

I breathe in deeply, tasting the ocean on my tongue, and think that if peace ever decided to visit Earth, this is exactly what it would feel like.I close my eyes as the wind brushes my face. For a moment, it feels as if all my worries have been swept away, carried out to sea.

Then, for no particular reason, the thought of a great white shark attacking me blooms in my mind, and I giggle. At least I’d go down meeting one eye to eye.

Suddenly, Zoey’s sharp, unmistakable bark cuts through the hush of the night, yanking me out of my daydream. I open my eyes and scan the coastline, searching for my white-pawed, black-furred whirlwind of chaos and love. She’s there—darting between rocks of all sizes and shapes, barking furiously at something only she seems to understand.

“Zoey!” I call, voice stretched over the sound of the waves. She freezes exactly a second, tilts her head, then goes right back to her frantic chorus, utterly ignoring me.

I eventually walk up to her and gently rub the back of her ear, which calms her down slightly.

“What’s wrong, Zozo?” I murmur, glancing at the rocks. There’s… nothing. Nothing at all. Zoey never barked at just anything, especially not some inanimate object.

As I step closer, Zoey follows behind me, crouched like a shadow ready to pounce on any danger that dares appear. I place a hand on the rough, slimy boulders to steady myself. Peeking over, I spot a rock pool—big enough for a person to sit and relax. Comfortable-looking, that is… except for one glaring problem. It’s dyed red, and the metallic tang of iron mingles with the salt in the air.

Zoey growls at a still figure in the pool. My heart does a strange little flip—I realize I don’t like the night sky right now. Its darkness conceals details, leaving only the outline of a medium-built male who… might actually be really cute.

“Oi! Buddy, you okay?” I call.

No response. I pull my black sweatpants up to my knees and step into the pool. Fortunately, the water only reaches just below my knees.

“I am definitely taking a long, hot shower after this bloody incident,” I mutter, trudging toward the figure.

I glance back at Zoey, poised like a furry missile.

“Oh, no you don’t!” I shout, throwing my hands out to stop her. “The blood will—Zoey! Zoey, no!”

But I’m too late. She leaps in, sending water splashing everywhere. Her sparkling white paws turn cream, then pink in the blood-tinged water. I laugh, hitting my head in disbelief as she swims straight to me.

“You little rascal!” I exclaim, patting her head gently before we move toward the figure. Thankfully, her head stays dry… for now.

As we get closer to the figure, my foot hits something hard and scaly. I glance down—and sure enough, I’m right. A tail, sleek and dulled by the blood but unmistakably blue, like a midnight sky. The fins are delicate, elegant—a mix between koi and goldfish—floating effortlessly in the water.

I follow the tail, expecting to see a massive fish, maybe even something mythical… but instead, I come face-to-face with a torso. My eyes widen in shock. A merman. A real merman, right here in front of me.

Now I’m close enough to see his face, the one the night and waves had blurred. His long black hair curls at the ends, damp and drying in the moonlight. His pale face is still and cold, yet peaceful—probably because he’s unconscious. His torso is lean, toned but not ridiculous, muscles sculpted just enough to hint at strength. Half fish, half human… his form screams swimmer, predator, something untamed.

I slap both my cheeks and shake my head, "Come on, Zephyrine, stop staring! You came to check if he’s okay—not to gawk at a Greek God!"

I glance down, searching for the source of the blood. There it is—his tail, on the right side, bearing a fresh bite mark. Shark, probably. My stomach twists.

Thankfully, it’s just a puncture wound—not one of those shark attacks where it rips out flesh—but it’s deep enough to make my stomach churn. I hit my forehead. These are the days I wish I were male and muscular, able to carry a half-dying merman like he’s a sack of groceries. And these are also the days I wish I could drive my car onto the beach.

I look at Zoey and pat her head. “Okay, pup. Stay here and make sure no one comes near, okay? Please,” I plead before leaping out of the rock pool.

The sand sticks to the bottoms of my feet like glue on paper. Annoying, uncomfortable, but what can I do? I forgot a towel in the car. The cold wind makes the wet hair on my legs stand, and dries the bloody water only makes everything worse.

I make it to the parking lot, scanning for my car. Upon finding it, I fling open the boot and grab the first aid kit. For once, I’m grateful Mother forced me to keep it here. I also grab the four dark blue beach towels I brought. Locking the car, I head back toward Zoey and the merman.

Halfway there, I realize I forgot Zoey’s towel.

I pause, torn, glancing between the towels in my hand, the direction I came from, and the figure waiting for help. Four towels: one for the wound, two to lay the merman on, and one left. Perfect—Zozo gets a new towel today. Shrugging, I continue across the rocks like a little penguin, Murmuring to myself like it's no big deal

Thank goodness it’s dark; no one can see me playing first responder a a creature that's supposedly FICTIONAL!

I unfold two towels, laying them on the sand not far from where my magical patient rests. I step back, muttering to myself. Everything is set… except how on Earth am I supposed to move him without hurting him? I sigh, approaching the rocks again.

Then—splash. Cold, iron-tinged water drenches me. My feet slip slightly in the rock but I catch myself in time and I freeze, too stunned to move.

“Damn human, stay away! And take this creature with you as well!” a raspy, cold, deep voice bellows, wincing and wheezing between each word.