The ocean's whispers still echoed in my ears as I sat frozen in my seat, Ms. Daniels' words hanging in the air like a death sentence.

"Jack Carter and Aria Morales."

My stomach didn't just drop—it plummeted. The water in my carefully sealed bottle vibrated, tiny ripples forming perfect concentric circles without the bottle moving at all. Since my near-exposure at the football game Friday night, my powers had been more volatile, responding to my emotions with less and less conscious control.

Not good. Not when I was about to spend a semester with Jack Carter.

I'd spent the weekend immersed in Eclipse Bay's moon pool, practicing control, feeling the ocean welcome me home—my tail cutting through currents, water bending to my will, everything perfect and balanced. Two days of peace where I belonged, far from fluorescent lights and crowded hallways. Far from storm-gray eyes that somehow held the same dangerous pull as the tide.

And now? Monday had shattered that peace with five simple words.

Jack Carter and Aria Morales.

The universe wasn't just cruel—it was calculating. First, bumping into him in the hallway. Then, finding his notebook. Then, the near-disaster at the football game where I'd almost exposed everything. Each incident drawing me closer to the one person who threatened my carefully constructed invisibility.

I could feel it happening already—the subtle shift in the atmosphere as students turned to look at me, finally noticing the girl who'd spent years perfecting the art of being forgotten. Their whispers pricked at my skin like tiny needles.

"Her? With Jack?"

"Is she even in this class?"

"Lucky..."

Lucky. Right. They had no idea what "lucky" meant when your body could transform with a single splash. When one drop of water at the wrong moment could destroy your entire life.

I glanced across the room at Jack, who looked mildly interested at best, completely unaware that he'd just been paired with a girl who could make water obey her thoughts. A girl whose very existence would become the school's biggest scandal if anyone found out.

This wasn't just an inconvenience. This was a ticking time bomb.

My fingers curled around my pen so tightly my knuckles ached. The fountain outside the classroom window suddenly spurted higher for a split second before returning to normal—nobody noticed, but I knew. I always knew.

How was I supposed to let someone like Jack Carter into my life without letting him see what lurked beneath the surface?

I wasn't the blonde athlete type he usually went for. I had black hair, brown eyes, and full Filipino features. I wore hoodies, jeans, and glasses. I didn't even give myself attention—why would Jack Carter? Yet here he was, making his way to my desk like we were about to have a normal conversation.

But there was nothing normal about this. Not for me. Not with my secret constantly simmering beneath the surface.

I watched as he stopped briefly by Brent's desk, muttering something that made his friend's expression darken further. They exchanged a quick glance—something unspoken passing between them—before Jack continued toward me.

The air seemed to shift as he approached, like a subtle current changing direction. I flipped open my notebook, clicked my pen, and fixed my gaze firmly on the page—not on the way his storm-gray eyes seemed to catch the classroom light, not on the slight tension in his jaw that hadn't been there before Friday's game.

"Let's get this over with," I said, my voice coming out steadier than I expected.

For a heartbeat, he didn't respond. I felt rather than saw him studying me, his gaze lingering longer than necessary. The water in the bottle inside my bag rippled slightly—a tiny warning sign that my powers were responding to his proximity.

"Damn," Jack finally said, his voice lower than I expected. "Not even a hello? I thought returning my notebook might have at least earned me that."

My head snapped up. He remembered that? The hallway incident had been just another forgettable moment in Jack Carter's life—or so I'd thought.

"Hi," I said, unable to keep the surprise from my voice. "Didn't think you'd remember that."

Something flashed in his eyes—amusement, maybe, or satisfaction at catching me off guard.

"I remember more than people give me credit for," he said, settling into the desk beside mine with that effortless grace that made everything look rehearsed. The movement brought him closer than I was prepared for, the faint scent of his cologne mingling with something cleaner, like the ocean after rain.

I shifted my chair slightly, creating distance. "Great. Can we start now?"

Up close, the dark circles under his eyes were more pronounced, a stark contrast to his otherwise perfect appearance. They'd been getting worse over the past few weeks—I'd noticed because I noticed everything about him, a habit I'd been trying desperately to break.

"Sure," he replied, pulling out the project packet. His fingers drummed lightly against the paper, a rhythm that matched the sudden quickening of my pulse. "Looks like we're going to be spending a lot of time together, Aria."

The way he said my name—with a slight emphasis on the first syllable, like he was testing how it felt—sent an unwelcome shiver down my spine. The water fountain outside the classroom window gave a sudden, subtle spurt, the arc of water rising half an inch higher for just a second.

I tightened my grip on my pen. "Full name?" I asked, trying to sound bored rather than flustered.

Jack leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on the desk, bringing him just a few inches closer. The movement was casual but deliberate, like he was trying to see past the carefully constructed wall I'd built.

"Jack Lucas Carter," he said, his voice carrying a hint of something I couldn't place. "Though something tells me you already knew that."

Heat crept up my neck. "It's a small school."

His lips quirked upward, not quite a smile. "That it is." His gaze held mine a beat too long before he added, "You know, this assignment is supposed to be about actual connection, not just filling out a form."

"I'm connecting with the assignment requirements," I countered, ignoring the way my heart decided to skip. The water in my bottle gave another subtle ripple. "Birthday?"

The look he gave me was different than the one he gave everyone else—more focused, like he was actually seeing me, not just looking past me like most people did.

"July 21st," he said. "Cancer, if you're into that astrology stuff."

I wasn't, but I'd read enough about zodiac signs in my endless scrolling to know that Cancers were supposedly emotional, intuitive, sensitive. Nothing like the detached player Jack seemed to be. And yet, something about the way he watched me—carefully, attentively—made me wonder if there was more beneath that practiced surface.

I definitely wasn't writing that down.

"Hobbies?" I moved on quickly, trying to maintain the professional distance I desperately needed.

"Football." He shrugged, like it was both obvious and unimportant.

I waited for him to mention parties or dating or whatever else quarterbacks were supposed to enjoy. When he didn't elaborate, I found myself curious despite my better judgment.

"That's it?" I asked before I could stop myself.

Jack hesitated, and something in his expression shifted. The practiced ease slipped, just for a moment, revealing a glimpse of someone different—someone more genuine than the persona he wore through Oceanview Academy's hallways.

"Spending time with my siblings," he said finally, his voice softening in a way I hadn't heard before.

I blinked, caught off guard by both his answer and the change in his demeanor. My pen hovered above the paper, waiting, as if I wasn't quite sure what to do with this piece of information that didn't fit my mental image of Jack Carter.

He must have noticed my surprise, because the corner of his mouth quirked up—not his usual confident smirk, but something quieter, more authentic.

"Noah and Chloe," he added, surprising me further. "They're eight. Twins." There was unmistakable warmth in his voice now, a stark contrast to the detached coolness he usually projected. "Total menaces, but in the best way."

This wasn't in the script. The project didn't require specific details yet, just basic information to get started. But there he was, voluntarily sharing something personal, something real.

"Noah's obsessed with marine biology right now—wants to be a shark scientist." Jack continued, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. His fingers stopped their restless tapping, settling into stillness. "And Chloe's into figure skating. I take her to practice on weekends when my parents are working."

My heart did a strange little flip. Jack Carter—the guy who never stayed with a girl long enough for things to get serious—spent his weekends taking his little sister to figure skating practice?

This didn't align with anything I thought I knew about him. This wasn't the Jack who broke hearts weekly, who moved through the school like he owned it, who never seemed to care about anything beyond the surface.

"Sounds like you're close," I said before I could stop myself, my voice softer than I intended.

Jack nodded, and for a brief moment, the carefully maintained image of effortless cool disappeared completely. There was something almost vulnerable in his expression—a glimpse behind the mask he wore so effortlessly.

"They're pretty great," he said simply. Then, as if suddenly realizing he'd shared too much, he straightened, his walls sliding back into place. "College plans?"

The sudden pivot caught me off guard. I'd been permitted a glimpse of the real Jack Carter, and then just as quickly, the door had closed.

"Wait," I said, frowning. "I'm supposed to be interviewing you."

Jack shrugged, that familiar easy confidence sliding back into place. "Ms. Daniels said to get to know each other. That goes both ways, Aria."

The way he said my name—with a slight emphasis that made it sound important somehow—sent an uncomfortable flutter through my stomach. The water in my bottle responded, swirling gently without being touched.

"USC," he answered his own question. "Sports medicine program. If the NFL doesn't pan out." He leaned back, studying me. "Your turn."

I hesitated, caught between my need for distance and the unexpected pull I felt to match his honesty. "UW," I said finally. "Marine biology."

I didn't mention the irony—that I wanted to study the ocean professionally while trying to hide that I was part of it. That I understood marine life in ways no textbook could explain because I'd swum alongside it with a tail of my own.

Jack's eyebrows rose slightly, something sparking in his gaze. "Like Noah. He'd think that's the coolest thing ever."

There was something disarming about the way he mentioned his brother again, like he couldn't talk about his own interests without connecting them back to his siblings. It made him suddenly, dangerously human.

I was about to respond when Jack reached for his water bottle.

My entire body froze, every muscle tensing at once. The sleek navy Owala sat between us on the desk, condensation beading along its sides like tiny warning signs. One tip, one slip, and I'd be running for the nearest bathroom, praying I could make it before scales replaced skin.

The memory of Friday night's near-disaster in the locker room flashed through my mind—the panic, the transformation, the desperate struggle to dry off before someone walked in. I couldn't risk that again. Not here. Not with Jack watching.

Something inside me responded to the threat—that primal connection to water that had been growing stronger since North Beach last year. I could feel the liquid inside the bottle, sense its weight, its movement. For a terrifying second, I thought my powers might actually freeze it solid without my conscious command.

Jack's hand paused mid-motion, hovering near the bottle. His eyes narrowed slightly, catching my reaction.

"You good?" he asked, his voice lower, more careful. Like he was trying to read something written in invisible ink.

"Fine," I said too quickly, my voice tight. "Just... careful with that."

Jack glanced between me and the bottle, confusion clear on his face, but there was something else there too—curiosity, like he was filing this reaction away for later examination. "With what?"

"The water," I said, then immediately regretted it. My cheeks burned with embarrassment. Way to be subtle, Aria. "I mean—my notes. Don't want them getting wet."

The lie sounded pathetic even to my own ears. I could practically feel my carefully constructed normalcy cracking under his gaze.

Jack studied me for a moment longer than necessary, his expression shifting from confusion to something I couldn't quite identify. Not mockery, but something more dangerous—genuine interest. Without comment, he moved the bottle to his other side, away from my notebook.

"Better?" he asked, but there was something in his tone that made me think he knew there was more to my reaction than I was letting on.

I nodded stiffly, forcing myself to breathe normally again. Great. Now he probably thought I was some kind of weird germaphobe with water issues.

Which, technically, I was. Just not for the reasons he might think.

"We should figure out when to meet outside of class," Jack said as he stood, gathering his notebook. "This project is worth a big part of our grade."

I froze. Outside of class? As in, beyond this controlled environment? Where water hazards lurked everywhere?

"We have plenty of class time," I said quickly, already calculating how many potential disasters awaited beyond Ms. Daniels' classroom.

Jack shook his head. "Not according to this." He tapped the project outline. "We need to do interview sessions, shadowing, all kinds of stuff that won't fit into class periods."

My stomach twisted into a familiar knot. Shadowing meant following him around. At football practice. Where there were water bottles, sports drinks, and sweaty players splashing each other. After Friday night's locker room incident, the thought made my skin crawl with anxiety.

"I..." I started, struggling to find an excuse that wouldn't sound completely ridiculous.

"I've got your number," he said, misinterpreting my hesitation. "I'll text you later and we can figure it out."

Wait—what? When did I give him my number?

"I don't think—"

"It's on the class contact sheet," he explained, as if reading my thoughts. "Ms. Daniels passed them out last week."

Right. The contact sheet I'd reluctantly filled out, never imagining it would lead to Jack Carter texting me. Another boundary crossed, another wall between my worlds crumbling.

"Fine," I said, because what other choice did I have? I couldn't fail this assignment, not when my GPA was the one normal thing I had going for me.

Jack shouldered his backpack, then paused, looking at me with an expression I couldn't quite read—too thoughtful for someone who wasn't supposed to notice me, too focused for someone who had a hundred other, more important things to think about.

"You know, Aria," he said, his voice dropping just enough that I had to lean in slightly to hear him, "for someone who seems to want to stay invisible, you're pretty memorable."

The water fountain in the hallway outside suddenly spurted higher for a brief second, responding to the jolt that ran through me at his words. I quickly reined my powers back in, forcing the water to behave.

Before I could process what he meant—before I could even begin to unpack the implications of Jack Carter finding me "memorable"—he was gone, leaving me standing there with my heart hammering against my ribs and the distinct feeling that I was in way over my head.

The moment Jack walked away, I exhaled shakily, my legs suddenly feeling unsteady beneath me.

Pretty memorable? What was that supposed to mean? Had I failed at being invisible? Had he noticed something about me—something different, something not quite human?

I grabbed my backpack, shoving my notebook inside with trembling fingers. The classroom was emptying quickly, students filing out in pairs, already deep in conversation about their new partnerships. Brent was one of the first to leave, practically storming out the door without a backward glance, his expression darker than usual.

Ms. Daniels glanced up from her desk as I passed. "Aria, I think you and Jack will work well together. Sometimes opposites bring out unexpected sides of each other."

I managed a tight smile that probably looked more like a grimace. If she only knew what "unexpected sides" really meant in my case—scales, fins, and hydrokinetic powers that were growing stronger by the day.

The hallway buzzed with the usual between-class chaos—students slamming lockers, conversations overlapping, the occasional burst of laughter. I kept my head down, weaving through bodies, willing myself to disappear into the background like I always did.

But something had shifted. I could feel it.

A few glances lingered a beat too long. Someone whispered as I passed. Another student actually nodded in acknowledgment—something that never happened.

Being paired with Jack Carter had already changed something. Like his social status was contagious, and now, by mere association, I was suddenly... visible.

I reached my locker and leaned my forehead against the cool metal for just a second, centering myself.

Control, Aria. Focus.

The water fountain nearby gurgled softly, its steady stream rising just a fraction higher than normal before settling back down as I took a deep breath. These involuntary reactions were happening more frequently since my swim at Eclipse Bay this weekend—like my connection to water was getting stronger, more instinctive, harder to suppress.

As I walked to my next class, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, expecting a reminder notification or maybe even Alice checking in about my Cozy Corner plans.

Instead, an unknown number lit up my screen.

Hey, it's Jack. How about meeting at The Cozy Corner after school tomorrow? Brent works there, so I know it's decent. Let me know.

My stomach dropped.The Cozy Corner. My sanctuary. The one place in Sunset Point where I felt safe, where I could let my guard down just a little. Where Alice worked. Where I edited my vlogs, where I could pretend to be normal for a few hours.

And now Jack wanted to invade it.

I thought about Eclipse Bay—the peace I'd felt there this weekend, the freedom of swimming with my tail, the perfect control I'd had over my powers when surrounded by open water. The complete opposite of how I felt right now, with my carefully separated worlds crashing into each other.

With a resigned sigh, I typed back a quick response before I could overthink it.

Fine. 4:30.

I switched my phone to silent and shoved it deep into my backpack. I couldn't deal with this right now. I had an Oceanography test to focus on, a secret to protect, and increasingly unpredictable powers to keep in check.

Jack Carter and his texts would have to wait.

But as I walked to class, water subtly responding to my footsteps—a drop of condensation sliding differently on a window, a puddle rippling without being touched—one thought kept circling through my mind:

This project wasn't just going to test my academic abilities—it was going to test every boundary I'd carefully constructed to keep my worlds separate.

And with my powers growing stronger, more responsive to my emotions...

I wasn't sure I could keep everything from falling apart.

<>

A/N: Edited. Please comment, vote, and feedback greatly appreciated.