Zuran had to take care of the business he’d told me about when I’d happened across him at the palace, so I couldn’t ask him to take me to the oasis and instead settled for directions. I wanted to see it, to walk the place where little Venan first took it upon himself to follow every rule told to him without an authority figure looking over his shoulder. Even with Zuran’s instructions, though, I didn’t really have the faintest clue how to get there, so I waited until the sun dipped lower in the sky and began to kiss the horizon to trek out of the Ka-lik’et gates and venture into the untamed desert. It might have been foolish to decide to make the journey at night, but the temperature was cooler, and the sky above was cloudless with an ideal offering of moonlight to guide me.

He’d pointed me in the general direction, along with mentionings of certain natural landmarks I would past, and I just started wandering that way in hopes of seeing the landmarks Zuran had described. The sight of the first one, a twelve-armed purple plant resembling a cactus brought a lilt of satisfaction that I was indeed heading toward the proper destination, but after that, I stopped seeing the things he’d told me to look out for. It felt like I walked for hours, passing sand dune after sand dune without any sign of an oasis in sight. The sun had disappeared completely by the time I decided I wasn't getting anywhere and I should probably turn back, but, just as I turned on my heel to retrace my steps home to Ka-lik’et, my senses were suddenly struck with an aroma I had never smelled before. It was sweet, perfume-like yet fresh. I would have compared it to something floral, but no flower on Earth could have replicated that smell.

The rows of sand dunes were all I could see in every direction, but there was one heaping dune in particular directly before me, and it was from there that the smell seemed to be coming. After a second of consideration, I opted to wander forward just a little more to the other side of the massive dune and find out what the source of the scent was.

The moment I stepped upon the peak of the sandy pile, I realized I had made it to the oasis. Free-standing in the middle of the desert, surrounded by nothing but sparse plants and an ocean of sand, was a sight straight out of a fantasy novel. Reddish-brown rocks rose from nothing and towered at least as high as the dune itself, and in the center of their unnaturally-formed circle was a pool of water so brilliantly blue and yet so deeply black it was hard to believe it was water at all. The perfume was stronger here, and wafts of breeze filtered it across my nose repeatedly until I could smell nothing else. Straining my ears a bit, I could hear the gentle rippling of the ethereal lake responding to the wind’s persuasive jostling. Everything was still, but the air around me felt alive with supernatural electricity.

I descended the dune, sliding a bit on the loose sand before finally coming to a halt at the very base. As I recollected my balance, I looked up at the vast rock towers, awed by their height and formation. They were creviced and multi-colored in their hues, but they were as beautiful as anything a human being could create—more so, probably. Still, even as I gazed up at them, I felt a roll of fearfulness in my gut. How could any child ever jump off something so high? Venan’s parents were right to be concerned about their children leaping from the top of one of the cliffs; they stood nearly as tall as one of those enormous cranes at construction sites.

Weaving between the rocks, I approached the shore of the oasis pool. So overpowering now was the flowery aroma that it nearly choked me, but I didn’t dislike it. On the contrary, I actually found it soothing. It was like being in a spa full of aromatherapy oils, except there were no masseuses or cucumber facials here. I plucked my shoes from my feet, laid them neatly at the bottom of one of the rock towers, and strode into the water until it reached my ankles. Then, I closed my eyes and breathed deeply.

It never ceased to boggle my mind how black the ocean was on this secluded piece of shoreline. There was no visual contamination from neon bar lights or streetlamps, but even if there was I didn’t think it would matter here. The water was so dark it swallowed even the moonlight, and not a single star could be seen reflected on the tumultuous surf.

Florida smelled differently at night. The warm, heady scent of sunshine left when the first streaks of navy wheedled away at the turquoise sky, and in its place was a light, damp scent. Like rain. Yes, that’s what it was. Florida night smelled like rain, even when there wasn’t any. The humidity people battled all day didn’t disappear with the onset of night; it just took a rest for the midnight hours, and we were left smelling its slick cologne.

I slid my palms over the sides of my hair, flattening my hair to gather it into a ponytail. Plucking the band from my wrist, I tied back my tresses and let my arms drop to my sides. This was freedom.

“Tavi! Are you coming in, or what?”

Michelle whipped her hand through the water, flinging beads toward me. They fell short and dropped to the sand where circlets of sludge formed. I stared at them, fascinated, but a second flick of Michelle’s hand sent drops misting onto my face, and I looked up again.

“What about Dave?” I called to her. The ends of my ponytail whipped my face as a sudden breeze caught the strands, and I pulled the few that caught in my mouth from my lips.

“He’ll be here,” she replied, her expression becoming excited. “He better, anyway. He promised he’d bring Rick.”

I shook my head and plunged my toes into the sand, wriggling them deep beneath. The ground felt cooler the further down I went, and it sent a shiver up my spine. “Forget Rick,” I told her. “You know he’s been arrested, like, three times. And he’s too old for you.”

“He’s nineteen. That’s only three years’ difference,” she argued.

I watched her stroll out of the water, battling it against her thighs until she was free from its tug, and she strode toward me with her arms swinging at her sides. Sand kicked up from her heels as she walked to coat her moist legs.

“Yeah, but that’s still illegal, at least at our age,” I pointed out.

“Since when do you care about what’s legal?” she jibed, drawing close enough to prod me in the side. I squeaked and pulled back.

She was right, though. I didn’t care about what was legal. What I cared about was Michelle hooking up with a guy who was no good. I didn’t have time to tell her that, though, because Dave stepped through the brush protecting the beach from view a second later, and in his tracks followed Rick. Michelle’s eyes lit up.

“Hey, boys,” she purred with an excessive amount of sensuality.

I rolled my eyes. Dave saluted her casually and stumped across the sand to me. As he wrapped his arm around my waist, he tugged me to him and kissed my neck with a murmur. “Hi, babe.”

“Hi,” I murmured back. His other arm snaked around me as well, and I was flattened against his front. He leaned down to kiss me on the mouth, but I kept my eyes open and pinned over his shoulder at the guy with shaggy bronze hair. Michelle had reached him now, and I watched her perform her signature flirt: hand on hip, hip popped out, head toss, bright smile.

Dave pulled back and looked down at me quizzically. “You cool?” he asked.

“Did you have to bring him?” I whispered, disgruntled. He twisted his neck to look over his shoulder at Rick and Michelle, who were now too close for my comfort. I’d always been a little too overprotective of my best friend, but this was different. Rick was bad news from start to finish.

“Why not?” he replied. “Chelle likes him.”

“Yeah, well, she shouldn’t,” I snapped.

Dave rocked from side-to-side, pulling me along with him until we were practically dancing to the sound of the waves licking the shore. “Let her do what she wants to do,” he chided. His voice was low, like he was a predatory cat and I was the prey he was preparing to catch and eat. “That’s what you’re here for, right? To do what you want? Otherwise, you’d be at home with your mom right now. Right?”

Michelle reached up and curled her arms around Rick’s neck, and I watched his hand slide down to her rear. “Yeah,” I muttered absently. “Yeah, that’s right.”

* * *

The house was dark and too quiet. I closed the screen door behind me as silently as possible, then followed suit with the heavy wood door, lifting on the knob at the closure to prevent the telltale click. I had sand everywhere: in my hair, in my jeans, in the toes of my socks. For a second, I considered going to the kitchen closet and retrieving the broom just to sweep up after myself and hide the evidence, but I figured it would be safer to just retire to bed now and get up early to clean before Mom woke up.

“Octavia.”

The voice came from nowhere, and I screamed like I’d been set on fire. Whirling around, I saw nothing but the shapeless outlines of furniture. After a second or two, however, my eyes adjusted, and I saw the slender form of my mother sitting upright on the couch.

“God, Mom, are you trying to give me a heart attack?” I wheezed, clapping a hand to my chest to calm my pattering heart.

“Ironic. I was going to ask you the same thing,” she replied.

Uh oh. She was mad.

“Sorry, it’s so late. Michelle and I fell asleep watching ‘Titanic,'” I lied.

Mom rose from the couch. I could hear her knees cracking in protest. She was one of those women who looked too young for her age, but her body was definitely up to speed with her years—maybe even a little too much. “I ran into Michelle’s mom at the supermarket tonight. She was under the impression her daughter was here. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

Crap. “She was probably joking.”

“You know, Octavia, a little bit of rebellion in your teenaged years is a good thing. You’re learning to stretch your wings so someday you can fly. When you start crossing the line, though—”

“Yeah, I know, it’s a sign of pain,” I griped, rolling my head back with irritation. “It’s a Band-Aid instead of the true path to happiness or whatever.”

She wasn’t going to let me off so easily. “Exactly. So, tell me about your pain. Let’s fix it so we can start making you happy,” she said.

I had too many emotions in my angst-ridden body. I was embarrassed at being caught, I was annoyed she was lecturing me, I was scared she knew where I really was and with whom, I was ashamed I kept disappointing her, I was mad she kept treating me like a child. Before I knew it, everything converged into one huge, unstoppable emotion, and I burst.

“I don’t know, Mom, maybe I’m just screwed up! Maybe I’m not perfect!” I shouted.

“This is about your father, isn’t it?” she asked. She was quiet and calm, and that only infuriated me more. I wanted her to shout back, to give me a reason to lash out other than myself. “You miss him.”

“Maybe I do miss him!” I yelled, throwing my coat to the ground and kicking it into the darkness. “Maybe I wish it was you who died instead of him!”

And with that horrible, crushing statement, I fled from the room with sand falling from my hair.