At first Theo didn’t do anything. Then he grinned and nodded, impressed. “You’re a skeptic. Interesting.”
I shook my head hard, sending my bangs straight into my eyes. Skeptic sounded wishy-washy. Like someone who was leaving a little space open just in case it might be true. And the anger boiling in my chest left no space for something like that. “No, I’m a realist. Meaning, I only believe in things that are actually substantiated. That have proof.”
Now his eyes relaxed, his eyebrows rising knowingly. Honestly, those eyebrows had their own dialect. “Got it. Name something that we have proof of?”
Huh? Frustration tumbled through me. “Um… like gravity.”
His lips pulled into a smile that was equal parts triumphant and smug. “We don’t have proof of gravity.”
Now it was my turn to stare at him. How delusional was he? “Um, hello? Yes, we do.”
He shook his head, his smile growing. “No, we have evidence of gravity. And evidence of electrons. There’s a difference between evidence and proof.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Isn’t your mom a lawyer?”
Smug just seemed to add to his charm. I honestly wanted to pull my hair out. “Theo, what are you talking about?” I groaned.
He held his hands up. “You’re right, Kalamata. We don’t have proof of Atlantis. I don’t know if Atlantis, like, the utopian Atlantis, really existed, or if it’s just a story. But I do know that one of the most well-respected minds in history was adamant about it having existed, and that despite all the problems with it, people have been drawn to the story for centuries. There’s something to the legend.”
His point was ridiculous, clearly. But it also had an undeniable sort of logic. This was the problem with Atlantis. It was so magical and unattainable that it wrapped its tentacles around your mind and refused to let go. “I still don’t believe in it,” I said.
“You don’t have to believe in Atlantis, Kalamata,” he said, stepping in closer. “But it’s better if you’re at least open to the possibility.”
His bottom lashes were all clumped together, and the ends of his hair were slightly damp, which should have been revolting but definitely was not.
I needed to stop thinking about this boy’s eyelashes. I shook my head. “Sorry, Theo. It’s nothing against you. But believing in Atlantis is just not a possibility for me.” Not anymore.
He hesitated, then lifted his chin to meet my eyes. “I’ve been thinking about what you said last night, about your dad leaving you for Atlantis. I think sometimes things look a certain way, but we don’t always know for sure that they are that way.”
“Excuse me?” My heart was hammering, and it took every ounce of strength I had not to yell at him. “Not following you.”
He leaned forward, and I couldn’t help but notice that morning light was Theo’s friend. His eyelashes cast a shadow on his cheeks, and his eyes looked darker and deeper. As if he could read my mind, he smiled, his lips parting slightly. “For example, you think I’m good-looking, right?”
I nearly choked on my own saliva. “Theo! Boyfriend, remember?”
A boyfriend who still hadn’t called me back. How many hours had it been now? But still.
He adjusted his hat. “Wait… you have a boyfriend?”
“Theo!” I groaned, and he grinned at me.
“Bad joke, sorry. But hear me out. Theoretically, if you didn’t have a boyfriend, you likely would have noticed that I’m attractive, the same as I’ve noticed you’re very, very pretty.”
OMG.
Did he really just say that? My cheeks were bright flames, and the island spun ever so slightly. “Theo…”
He grinned and waved me off. “Relax. I’m a complete gentleman. Fully respect you and your boyfriend…” He trailed off, raising one eyebrow.
“Dax,” I said.
“Dax. The point I’m trying to make is that just because your dad believed in Atlantis doesn’t mean he would leave you for it. The same way that just because you and I are clearly attracted to each other doesn’t mean that either of us is going to act on it.”
Wow. My body decided to fulfill every stereotype it possibly could. Heart racing, palms sweating. Also, was I smiling? Ugh. I was. I could only guess what shade of red my face was. Vermillion. Scarlet. Ruby. Everything he was saying should have sounded cocky and arrogant, but it didn’t. It just sounded sort of matter-of-fact. Sort of… true. “Theo, I have no idea how to follow this conversation.”
His smile went lopsided. “Sorry, I get that a lot. My brain works fast. And my mom says I connect things that other people don’t. Maybe it’s a trilingual thing? Anyway. The real deal is that I think you have your dad all wrong.”
I shook my head. This was exactly like last night. Why did Theo think he knew anything about me and my family? Also, he couldn’t really be open to Atlantis being real, could he? I mean, it was one thing for my dad to go for it. He’d been raised before the internet, and as far as I could tell, the story had sunk deep down into his bones and caught ahold of him. But Theo? He had a screen in front of him 24/7. He could actually research things. “What about you? Do you think Atlantis is real?”
He studied me for a beat, his eyes thoughtful. “I’m excited about making a documentary. And I don’t think we have to decide one way or another whether Atlantis is real.” He gestured to the wide expanse of the caldera. “I would say that most stories, including the ones we tell ourselves, have a nugget of truth in them, and I think Atlantis is no different. Is it possible that there was some massive, destructive event in history that inspired the legend of Atlantis? Of course. And Santorini definitely matches up with it.” He met my eyes again. “Besides, what’s the harm in believing?”
What’s the harm?
Had he really just said that? The harm was that believing could rip you away from your family, sending you halfway across the world on a delusional treasure hunt. The harm was that you could become so obsessed that you missed your family’s birthdays, homecoming dances, and thousands of bedtime stories—
STOP. I slammed on my emotional brakes, screeching to a halt. I was over this. Whatever my dad had or had not done, that was over. I had moved on. I blinked angrily a few times, steadying myself, and when I looked up, Theo was still watching me. Though studying me was more like it. He might as well have had a camera on me, he was clearly picking up my every move.
“So?” Theo’s eyebrows went up in amusement. “Do you think you could at least be open to it? Because we really need your help. Also, I think you need to tell your dad how you really feel about Atlantis.”
And there it was. The final straw. “I’m sorry, are you telling me how to interact with my dad?”
“No. Yes? No.” He shrugged his shoulders up and down in confusion. “I don’t know what the right answer is.”
If I weren’t so angry, I probably would have noticed the undeniable cuteness in Theo’s fluster. “I’m going to take a breather. I’ll see you up there.” I whirled around, head held high, and marched briskly up the path toward the crater.
My whirl/march wasn’t nearly as dignified as I’d hoped. Not only had my eyes gone blurry with angry tears, but Theo had been right about footwear—sandals were not ideal for a hike up loose volcanic rock.