Chapter 3: The Boy Who Didn't Belong
The next day, Maridaz couldn't stop thinking about Elian.
His words echoed in her mind, as strange and unsettling as they were: "The ocean likes you." It felt like a riddle, one she wasn't sure she could solve. And why did he know about the beach? Why did he always seem to be looking at the horizon, like he was waiting for something—or someone—to return?
She tried to push it out of her mind, but when the school bell rang, there he was again, standing just outside the door, leaning against the brick wall. As if he were waiting for her.
Elian didn't smile when she approached. He didn't do much of anything that was normal. But there was something about the way he stood, the way his eyes followed the movement of the ocean from the distance, that made Maridaz feel like an intruder in her own life.
"Hey," she said, trying to sound casual, despite the nervous flutter in her stomach. "I, uh, wanted to thank you for yesterday. That was... kind of weird, but... nice."
He glanced at her, his eyes as cold and distant as the sea itself. "You were thinking about the ocean, weren't you?"
She blinked, taken aback. "How do you know that?"
Elian tilted his head slightly, as if he were assessing her. "It's in the way you look at it. You're drawn to it."
She swallowed, the breath caught in her throat. There was something so unnerving about him—like he could see into her thoughts. "I like it. The sea. I don't know why, but I do."
Elian's gaze softened just a fraction. "The sea doesn't let go easily. Not once it finds you."
Maridaz had no idea what he meant, but somehow, she didn't ask. There was something in his eyes—a depth that made her hold her questions back. Something about him felt ancient, almost as if he was a part of the sea itself.
"Do you… like the beach too?" she asked, testing the waters.
He nodded, and for the first time, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I've been there longer than you think."
Before she could respond, he straightened, his gaze slipping past her to the street beyond. "I need to go."
"Right." She took a hesitant step back, unsure if she should say more. But when she opened her mouth to speak, she noticed the strange way he was looking at her—as if he were torn between leaving and staying. It unsettled her, but in a way she couldn't explain.
"See you around, Maridaz," Elian said, his voice almost a whisper.
She watched him walk away, his silhouette blending into the mist that always seemed to hang just off the edge of the town. He wasn't just handsome—he was distant, like a dream that could slip away with the tide.
It was then that she realized something that made her stomach drop.
She hadn't told him her name. Yet, he knew it.
---
Later that night, Maridaz sat at the kitchen table with her parents, picking at the slice of birthday cake her mom had made. The flickering candles in the center of the table cast soft shadows across their faces, making the room feel warm and familiar.
"So, how was your day?" her mother asked, pushing the salad toward her. Her voice was gentle, but there was something strained about it tonight, like she was trying to hide something.
"Good. Boring, actually," Maridaz said with a half-smile. "Same old stuff."
Her father, Eli, didn't look up from his newspaper. "I see Elian is still around."
Maridaz froze. Her parents rarely mentioned him, and never by name.
"You mean the new kid?" she asked, trying to sound casual.
Her mother's eyes lingered on her, though there was no warmth in the look—only something like… concern? It was hard to tell. "Yes, the one with the eyes like the ocean."
Maridaz frowned. "How do you know about him?"
Her father cleared his throat and put down the paper. "Word travels fast in this town. People talk. The boy doesn't seem... normal. Be careful around him."
Her pulse quickened, and she couldn't help but feel a cold chill run down her spine. What did they know about him?
Before she could ask any more questions, her father picked up his paper again, and her mother stood to clear the dishes.
Maridaz was left alone at the table, feeling like she had missed something—a piece of the puzzle that didn't quite fit.
That night, she tossed and turned in bed, the shell she had found at the beach resting against her pillow. It pulsed again, just as it had before, though now it felt stronger, louder, like something was waking up inside of it.
The wind outside howled, and the house creaked as if it, too, were trying to tell her something.
But Maridaz just closed her eyes, her thoughts swirling around Elian, her parents' warnings, and the strange connection she felt with the sea.
She drifted off to sleep, not knowing that the waves were calling her name again—louder, clearer, and closer than ever before.