Popping in both earbuds, I flick through my various scattered playlists, all named for their purpose. My thumb hovers over my cleaning mix, and I tap play.

High energy pop and EDM fills my ears as I scrub the tiles in my bathroom, the whole time shaking my hips and swishing my tail back and forth.

I woke up at two pm this Saturday morning, and instead of being totally dead, I'm full of random energy and drive to clean; of course, I'm not gonna pass up what will most likely be my only opportunity to willingly clean something in the next month.

Even after just a week of staying here, I can already see a thin layer of soap scum and stray fur accumulating. I clean out the hair-trapping drain, silently thanking Pops for having me gut all those fish over the years- most likely the only reason I can handle this without gagging.

"Well, good morning sleeping beauty. You doing okay?" Mom asks, a cup of tea in her hands.

I pop out an earbud. "Hm? Oh- hi Ma. Yeah, I don't know why, but I just totally zonked out today. Now that I'm awake though, I feel like I'm full of crazy energy. Nothing's wrong though."

"The energy's probably because you got ten hours of sleep, Honeybear." She leans against my bathroom door frame, chuckling. "You would tell me if something was wrong though, right?"

I nod, looking back to reassure her. She takes that as a good enough answer.

"Well, I was just coming to let you know that Pascal came by. I told him to come back later, since you were still asleep."

I sling the garbage bag I was tying up over my shoulder. "At two pm? Wow, that's so early."

"You know some people prefer to be awake during the day actually."

"Yeah, crazy people."

"You mean like Dad and me?"

"For sure, you guys are totally bonkers."

She laughs, giving me a hug before I take the trash out.

I have nearly the entire kitchen and living room tidied up, scrubbed, and vacuumed by the time six rolls around. Mom and Pops went out to walk the boardwalk for the evening, so I made my dinner of leftovers and ate it alone in the peace and quiet.

Having a clean house feels like winning a marathon pretty much every time, but it feels especially badass when you did it all yourself without being asked. I just sit there, munching on a leftover burger and sipping my iced tea as I harvest the fruits of my labor.

I'm all finished and am rinsing off my plate when I hear a knock at the front door. I wonder if Mom and Pops got bored of the shops already.

I go over to open it, and when I do I'm met with the face of a familiar red otter.

"Pascal?"

"CJ, c'mere."

Before I can ask questions, he grabs my wrist and pulls me out the door into the pink and orange sunset. I would try to pull away, but I'm so curious as to why he came all the way here to drag me outside that I allow myself to be led.

Pascal lets go of my arm as we approach the beach, and he swan dives into the shallows, surfacing a few meters away. He playfully raises a paw to beckon me in.

I'm not in any clothes to be swimming, and he knows this. Still, I'm so curious and dumbstruck by the past thirty seconds that I can't help but be tempted to follow him in. Despite myself, I cave. I laugh at how weird this is while I kick off my shoes and socks, leaving them in a neat pile outside of the tide. I wade out into the water, and he swims up to meet me.

For a second, the chill shocks my skin, but it adjust quickly to the warm water.

"Where are you taking me?" I ask.

The water is shallow enough for him to stand, but he chooses to paddle circles around me playfully. "There's a sand bank a little ways out. I saw a cool fish I think you would like."

"You brought me all the way out here and got me soaked to show me a fish?"

"Yerp."

Maybe I'm being too much of a good sport despite how little he's telling me, but I feel intrigued, and I find it too easy to trust those excited eyes full of the sunset.

"Fuck it, guess we're going for a swim."

I dunk myself fully underwater, surfacing right next to him. I see him give me a sly grin.

"It's good to know how easy you are to peer pressure."

I splash him, and he flips onto his back, kicking his way out to sea. I follow as best as I can. All that time spent reeling in fish gave me strong arms for swimming, but none of the stamina and agility Pascal shows, and by the time we're a few yards past shore, I'm panting behind as Pascal only gains distance on me.

Thankfully, I feel my feet hit sand, and I step up onto the bank. The water is about a foot deep here, only deep enough for a few small fish to flutter between my legs as they scatter.

Pascal steps up and pulls off his hat, revealing a considerable head of red hair that he shakes the water out of before replacing it.

I look around in all directions at the citrus painted ocean. Nothing sticks out to me as a fish beached on a sand bank, and I have no idea how Pascal would be able to keep a fish in one place without a net or trap.

"Okay, Ceej, c'mere."

Pascal takes my paw and leads me over to the opposite end of the bank, sitting over the steep edge and letting his feet dangle. I look down, trying to make out the dark water, when I see a giant fin breach the surface. I scream and fall hard on my ass.

Without thinking, I grab Pascal's arm with both of mine and try to yank him back on the sand, but he's surprisingly strong and hardly budges.

What happens next perplexes me to no end. He reaches his other paw into the water and strokes the fin as a blue shark rises up to the surface, looking happy to accept the attention.

"Pascal, that's a shark. It'll bite you if you get too close!" I shout, not daring to come any closer.

"What kinda sharks are you meeting?" He asks, sounding just as confused as me, "you know, you're more likely to get hurt by a dog than by a shark, right?"

I remember vaguely hearing that stat somewhere, but that's only because so few people are ever around sharks. It doesn't mean that a shark wouldn't bite you if you gave it the chance.

"Yeah, but sharks still bite! And they bite hard."

"That's weird, cause this one seems like it wants to be pet."

I'm furious at Pascal's calmness as he watches the shark swim circles in front of him. It's not a huge shark, probably four feet at the longest, but all I can think about is its mouthful of razor-sharp jaws taking a bite out of my leg.

I shake away the image. "Pascal, I don't want to be here anymore."

"Oh- uh... okay. Here, we can swim back-"

"Swim back? With sharks in the water?"

He stares at me, puzzled. "What's so bad about sharks?"

That's probably the stupidest thing I've ever been asked when there was a shark swimming three feet away from me. "That's like asking someone 'what's up with you and dying?' as if being afraid of dying is a weird thing."

My voice has more venom than I notice, and I see him start to realize how uncomfortable and scared he's made me.

"I-I'm sorry, Ceej, I just thought that being the fish guy, this would be your thing. The sharks here aren't that bad at all. I dive with 'em all the time. Are you sure you don't wanna try?"

I look down at the water and watch the sharks circling. The one that Pascal's showing to me is just hovering there at the edge of the bank, its tail swishing lazily back and forth, brushing up the sand. It's too shallow for it to swim, but could it whip up and bite me if it wanted? I'm too scared of it to move.

"Hey-" Pascal places a supportive hand on my arm. "Is this… Is there something that I don't know about going on here? Like, is this a phobia thing? I could probably shoo off the sharks-"

"No-… No it's okay, I just…"

I feel my face growing hot, and I stare down at the sharks instead of looking at Pascal- somehow they're the least scary thing here. My eyes fill with tears.

"It doesn't sound okay, chum."

I wrap my arms around my legs and bury my face in my knees. Definitely wasn't expecting this to be how my evening went, but I guess anything could have come from following your friend unexpectedly out to sea.

"… When I was little, Pops and I took me ocean fishing during one of our vacations. We were on a canoe he brought with him- probably not very good to take out on the ocean, but nothing was gonna stop him from going after that angler-fish." I laugh bitterly, trying to make it easier for myself.

"I was being super rowdy on the boat, cause like… I was what- five or six? He was so pissed with me, I remember. He was yelling something at me and trying to get me to sit down, and I was really upset that he took me with him, so I didn't listen… I fell in without my life-jacket on, and-"

My voice breaks. I take a second to try to breathe, but I see Pascal staring intently at me, a look of pity that makes me feel even worse.

"Did something… bite you?" He asks after a while.

I nod. "I wasn't a very good swimmer, but I could float okay with my tail. I was on my back when… I felt it on my leg first- like getting poked for an injection, but instead it's a hundred of them all at once. It dunked me instantly, and I couldn't breathe. I don't even remember when it let me go, just that I woke up after in the ambulance."

"Holy shit…" Pascal looks horrified, and somehow that makes me feel better. "That's awful, man. I can't believe your Dad took you out there without a life jacket."

I hadn't thought about it in a long time, but it was true. Maybe if Pops hadn't been more focused on fishing than he was on me at the time… maybe I wouldn't have been bitten. Maybe it wasn't the shark's fault.

My fingers trace the hairless spots on my legs where the scars healed, and I can see Pascal looking at them.

"I know that it thought I was like, a seal or something, since it let me go right away. Or- I know that now, even if I didn't then, but-"

"But it still hurts. You still got hurt."

The words stab my heart, and it fills me with this cathartic relief. Yeah, I was hurt, and even if things are better, it still stings. I rest my face on my knees to wipe away the streaming tears.

"I'm sorry I brought you out here. I should have asked you first."

I feel Pascal rubbing my shoulder sympathetically, and I lean into the touch.

"You couldn't have known…"

"But I should have asked. Next time, I will."

We both sit there in silence as the last of tears flow out, dripping onto my already sopping wet tank-top and shorts.

"CJ…" He stops for a second, his words careful, "are… are you safe with your parents? Cause it sounds like your Dad wasn't taking very good care of you."

I wipe my face and turn to face him, though I don't meet his eyes. "I'm safe now, but back then… that's the problem. It's like, everything is fine now; my folks got their shit together, but I'm still so hurt by the stuff that happened. Stuff like that- them not taking good care of me, even if they do now."

We sit there for even longer. The sun has fully set, though the sky is still lit with a bit of blue and purple. I want to say more, but there's nothing else I can think of.

"No one can fault you for that. Those kind of things stick with you, even when you don't want them to." Pascal leans forward, idly sifting through the sand. "It's good that things are better, but it'll also take time for you to recover from when they weren't. It's like a pan on a stove; even when you turn off the heat, the pan stays hot."

"Yeah, I knew that already... It's just-"

"Hard to practice what you preach?"

"Yeah…"

It's like he reads my mind. It feels so good to finally have someone who just listens and gets it- acknowledges it.

"I should just expect us to get into stuff like this every time we hang out," I laugh, and I'm painfully aware of how hard I'm trying to get the attention off of myself.

"I'm a smarty pants." Pascal says it so earnestly that the comedic timing is unintentionally perfect, and I snort.

"Could I… Could I pet one of them?" I dare to ask before I grow too scared.

He looks at me, then back at the darkening water. With a nod, he reaches down to the deeper edge of the bank and brushes through the sand. One of the shark hears his call, and slowly floats up to the surface.

I watch as it gets close to his hand and I wince, but it only nudges its nose against it, as if to say 'pet me.' Now that it's close, I see it has dark reddish skin and a wide front- a hammerhead, I think. Strange as it looks, I can't say it isn't at least a little cute floating there.

Pascal gently takes my hand, and with his fingers clasped behind mine, he guides me into the water to rest on top of its head. Carefully, I place my whole palm down. It feels… rough. Like sandpaper, but not as harsh. I pet it a little, and it closes its eyes contentedly.

"There ya go," Pascal goes, almost cooing at me, "you're a natural."

I laugh nervously as it gently pulls away back into the water. "I did it!"

"Yeah, you did CJ."

I look over to see him looking straight at me, and our eyes meet. In the dark, I can see his eyes even less than normal, but I still see the twinkle of dusk dancing around in them. They're dark like pine bark, and as deep as the sea.

"S-Sorry," he says, breaking away.

"It's… alright."

What was that? It was… I have no idea what that was- why we were staring- why I saw so much in those eyes of his. Am I blushing? Ugh, that was probably so embarrassing.

"Do you wanna swim back?" He asks me in that same, rumbly whisper.

I look out into the sea that stands between me and solid ground, and it reminds me of all of the sharks circling us right now. I gulp.

"Would it help if I carried you?" Pascal offers, "like on my back, I mean. You can hold onto me, and I'll swim us both to shore."

In his eyes I see that same genuineness he's had this whole time, and despite my fear, I nod.

He eases himself down into the water just off the edge, and he waits with his back towards me. I'm not sure how to grab him at first, but as my hands hesitate, he moves them around his neck, and I clasp them over his chest. For once, I'm the one flustered.

Gently, he walks me down off the bank and into the water, and before I know it I'm floating, hanging off his back as he swims us back to shore. I think of all the water beneath me and how many sharks it could contain, but somehow, I know I'll be okay. Having Pascal here makes it okay.

He doesn't stop until it's shallow enough for us both to stand. "This is our stop," he jokes.

I get to my feet, and we wade up far enough that the water is at hip-height.

"Thanks, Pascal."

"Anytime. I know you'd do the same for me."

I giggle. "Maybe I'd try, but I ain't built for swimming."

"You're literally a beaver! And you got those big arms too, lots of strength in your strokes. I bet you could bench-press swimmers like me."

Stupid as I am, I scoop him up bridal style before he can even react, and I carry him to shore.

"You would win that bet, I guess," I joke.

I look for Pascal's reaction, but he looks totally dumbstruck, his face entirely washed in red. "I… was right. You can lift me..."

"I-I'm sorry, I thought it was-"

"Wait-" He stops me before I put him down, a disappointed look on his face, and I stand there awkwardly bent, halfway to setting him down. "-I mean- n-nah nevermind, you can put me down."

Easing him back onto the sand, I straighten out, well, everything. My hair, my clothes, the fur on my arms- I suddenly feel very self-conscious of every inch of my everywhere.

"Sorry…"

"D-Don't apologize. That was… Y-You're good, I mean. Don't sweat it."

We stand there in silence a few seconds longer, just fumbling with our clothes and kicking around sand.

"Well, uh… thanks, Pascal, I'll see you around," I say, breaking the silence.

He looks like he's snapped out of thought. "Anytime, broski." I see him finger gun, only to immediately cringe at it.

I just laugh it off and wave goodbye as I walk back home, my mind still swirling, though I'm not sure with what.