“You realize you’re talking about an inanimate object, right?” I said, but what I was really thinking about was that—like me—Theo had not chosen to come to Santorini. Yet another thing we had in common. And he was also right: the pool did look happy to have us here.
I rested my cheek on my arm, legs stretched behind me, water lapping in my ear. “So, Theo, what’s your life plan?”
He turned back from the view to look at me. “Swim with a girl in Oia?”
I flicked water at him. “We aren’t swimming; we’re floating. And past that.”
He shrugged. “Well, tomorrow I want to make a documentary about the lost city of Atlantis. And after that… I don’t really have a plan. I’m mostly trying not to be a jerk.”
I laughed before realizing he was serious. “Really? That’s your plan?”
He shrugged again. “I know that probably sounds like I’ve set the bar really low. But I’ve seen it a lot. Like my dad, I don’t think he started out a jerk. But he got so wrapped up in his work, and then it was like we didn’t matter anymore. It was only about his ambition.”
Hmm. Sounded familiar.
“We were one more thing that he had to move around.” He continued, eyes out to the ocean. “He was so surprised when my mom told him she was leaving, but she’d been lonely for so long. Now I wonder if he really even notices that we’re gone.”
Things had gotten a lot deeper than I’d expected, and we were suddenly much closer than we had been a moment earlier. Who had moved? Him? Me? Both of us? His forehead beaded with water, and his hair was wet and tangled, water lapping his dark, wavy strands. “I’m sure he does,” I said, but regretted it immediately. Why had I said that? I didn’t know Theo’s dad. I had no idea. And I’d always hated it when people told me how to feel about my own parental relationships. “Sorry. We have that in common. An absent dad who puts work over their families.”
Theo’s hand slipped off the edge, and he sank into the water, moving closer to me. “No. With your dad, it’s different. It always felt to me like—” He stopped abruptly. Droplets of water clung to his eyelashes, and his eyes were so serious. Even when he was having fun, they were always so serious. “Oh no. I’m doing it again.”
“Doing what?” My breath hitched in my chest, and I lowered myself into the water, my eyes level with his, mouth right above the surface. If I moved at all, I’d run into him.
His gaze studied mine. “Back at the domes, I promised not to talk about your dad anymore. Sorry.”
Oh. Right. My stomach unclenched. “You can finish what you were going to say,” I said, but I gripped the pool edge tighter, bracing myself.
“Okay.” He took a deep breath. “It seems like… well, I always felt like he was trying to find Atlantis for you.” The words spilled out, and he looked up at me plaintively.
“What?” I stood up quickly, my feet slipping on the pool bottom in my haste to move away. Spell broken. Whatever I’d felt a moment ago was gone. Now I felt defensive. “Theo, that doesn’t make sense. Why would he find Atlantis for me? He left me for Atlantis.”
Theo stood up too. “I’m not a mind reader. That’s how it’s always seemed to me.”
We stared at each other in silence, the only noise coming from the pool hum-humming and the waves crashing below. Water dripped down Theo’s chest and shoulders, but he stayed statue-still. If he thought I was going to make the first move, he was mistaken. Finally, he dropped his gaze. “Sorry. I know I probably shouldn’t have said that, but I felt like you should know.”
“Theo…” I clenched my fists under the water in frustration. “I know you really like my dad. But I don’t understand why…” You keep defending him. You can’t see him. You don’t get this. So many ways to finish this sentence, but Theo looked so sorry, miserable really, the moonlight highlighting the earnestness in his eyes. Theo may not be able to see all the facets of the situation, but it wasn’t his problem. I couldn’t take this out on him.
I groaned, then fell back into the water, keeping my eyes on the sky. The stars looked even farther away than normal. “Never mind. Change of subject?”
Brief pause, then minor tidal wave as Theo launched himself over to my side of the pool. “No problem. I even have another subject in mind.” He had a big smile on his face.
I sighed, but it was more theatrical than anything. He was still moving closer to me, and my heart seemed to think this called for an epic freak-out. “Great. What is it?”
His lips parted. “Kalamata. This boyfriend of yours, is he—”
Behind us a light flipped on, bright as a spotlight, and we both winced, covering our faces as panic flooded through me.
“Theo?” I finally managed. Maybe it was a motion detector? From another house? But Theo was looking over my shoulder, his gaze fixed worriedly on the house. “Theo, what?” I whispered.
“Shhhh.”
“Poios eínai ekeí?” a male voice called. Oh no.
Theo’s eyes moved calmly to mine. “Kalamata, listen to me. We are going to have to run.”
My heart shot to my throat. “Run? But…”
“Now.”
“Paravátes!” a voice roared from much too close.
I was too startled to react. Before I realized what was happening, Theo was pulling me out of the water, his arm tight around my waist, and then we were sprinting for the door, dripping and sliding as we grabbed our stuff and ran.
I thought the homeowner would chase us off his property and leave it at that. I’d thought wrong. Once we’d spilled out onto the walkway, our clothes and shoes a wild jumble in our arms, Theo grabbed my hand. But instead of running up toward the bookstore, he pulled me down a flight of stairs, zigzagging into the darkness, our backs to the cliff.
“Stamáta tóra!” the man yelled, his voice reverberating in the quiet.
“Th-Theo…,” I stammered. My adrenaline was so high I felt liquid, my brain a useless mess. Theo was having no such issues. He must have been a pirate evader in another life, because he began darting into narrow alleyways, down staircases, leaping over walls, even jumping a four-foot drop over the edge of a walkway—and I just flapped behind him like a kite.
I slipped at least a dozen times, but whenever I tumbled, Theo managed to catch me, eventually tossing his armload of clothes to one side so he could steady me better. Did he have a plan? Were we mindlessly running? I wanted to ask, but my brain was too jumbled to form the words.
The man’s footsteps echoed loudly over the ocean’s hammering waves. My breath came in so short and fast, I was wheezing, and right when I thought my heart was going to explode, Theo hurried us onto an enclosed porch covered by a wooden pergola. Sun chairs sat grouped at one end, and a hot tub was tucked into one corner.
He rushed us over to the hot tub, then ducked around its side, squeezing between it and the wall. “Liv, come on!”
The man’s footsteps and his angry voice boomed closer as I ducked down beside Theo. There was barely enough room for the two of us. We faced each other, our knees pulled up to our chests, separated by a few inches. We were both breathing hard.