I watched the sun set from the shore.

Their bodies still visible; black dots against the foamy whiteness of the waves. The sun menaced, growing redder, angrier, as it kissed the line of the sea making the earth look square. I thought about leaving, as I always did when my mind became too loud and my company too quiet. But I didn’t. I stayed right where I was as their screams of joy echoed across the emptying beach, carried by the wind to the top of the hills behind me.

            "Mommy! Mommy!" I pretended not to hear as Clara called after me, waving her arms wildly above her head, "look at me! Look how high I can jump!"

            She attempted to jump over a wave, but it rolled over her, bringing her knees first into the damp sand. She placed her hands in front of her and pushed herself back up, wiping her knees first and then cleaning her hands on her stomach. She clumsily removed her hair from her face and gave me a toothless grin.

            I wanted to keep pretending I hadn't noticed her, but she stood her ground expectantly until I gave her the thumbs up. Then she turned around and went back to playing in the waves. Andrew gurgled in his basinet, but I turned my attention back to the setting sun. The hues of orange and red growing more and more intense, while the sky, still unsure what mood it was in, turned from pink to blue to purple to orange and finally to deep sea blue, blending in with the horizon.

            I was told it wouldn’t last, that with time and therapy the post-partum depression would disappear. But the more time passed, the less I cared and the more I wanted out of this life I had created for myself. I drifted from my children, not wanting to be in their presence, and as much as I loved Dexter, he clearly didn’t understand.

            "Rose… Rose," Dexter shook his wet hair over Andrew making him high-pitch giggle-gurgle, before walking towards me. He planted a kiss on my forehead, "don’t think about it," I hated how well he could read me, "remember what Dr. Feinstein said, out of mind, completely," I gave him a meek smile, "did you see Clara? She's having a great time! Do you want to go swim with her?" I hated when my husband babied me.

            "I think I'm ok, I'll just sit here with Andrew," he nodded and walked back to the ocean where Clara was screaming "Daddy, Daddy! I'm a mermaid!" and diving into the waves. I looked at my son and thought about how much I wanted to love him in all his baby fat, drooled on glory. He stared back at me with huge, questioning baby blues he inherited from my mother.

            "Hi puppet, you want to come with mama?" I hated how my voice sounded, dumbed down, but still he stretched his fat arms out to me. I felt disgusted as I bent down to pick him up and had to keep reminding myself that this is what a good mother did. I could see Dexter smiling out of the corner of my eye. I pretended not to see him and bounced Andrew on my knee making him smile.

            I remember when he was born, pink and slimy and all I wanted was to hold him and cuddle him. The first few months were ok, I never wanted to let him go, but now things had changed and I didn’t know how to love him anymore. It hadn't happened with Clara, her birth hadn't depressed me and I hated that she had to suffer the consequences of her brother being born.

            Andrew pulled on my hair and I let him. At least I was feeling something.

 ***

            I had been in and out of the water all week. My parents had even let me skip school a couple times in order to keep training. It was going to be my first big competition since my surgery a couple years ago and I was amped. At first, my mom didn’t want to let me get back out there, but I grew impatient and annoying and kind of left her no choice.

            "You have to let her do it," my dad was always on my side, "it's her passion and passions require risks." He would say this in front of me but I could hear their whispers behind closed doors as he told my mom that he too was scared but there really was nothing they could do about it. "She's a Lyle," he would say, "and Lyles always find a way to do what they want to do."

            He was right, of course. I think it took me like two weeks before I decided that a few broken bones weren't going to stop me. The first couple of days my friends would come home to visit me in my bed, I felt like an old invalid person even though it had been just a bump— my mom and I disagreed on how big of a bump it had been — I would ask them about the waves and I knew they'd gotten the "don’t talk about surfing" shpeal from my mom because they would get quiet and awkward.

            The doctor told me I couldn’t do sports for a year, but there really was no way I could stay out of it for that long. It's just one of those things that, yeah they matter in the long run, but maybe I if I pushed myself only a little bit at a time it wouldn’t really make that big of a difference. I started slowly, at first only going for walks around the park and riding the Longboard around the neighborhood. Soon that turned into paddle boating and biking and eventually I found myself back in the water.

            By the time I got back on a surfboard, too much time had passed and my body was no longer taught and balanced. My arms were complete noodles and I would climb on top and find myself wiping out constantly. My limbs no longer responded as quickly as they had right before the surfboard had literally shattered on top of me as a wave worked me like it was its job. To my utter shock — my mom calls this the Cassandra factor, nothing is expected and everything is a much bigger deal than it ought to be — I needed to retrain my body before I could sign up for another competition.

            But I did it, finally. I've been working my butt off during school breaks and weekends to be ready for this next competition. It's been way too long, but I think I'm finally ready. My mom says that my expectations for myself are too high right now and I need to ground them or some shit like that, but realistically speaking I'm as good as anyone else going out there next week.

            The waves today were nuts, like super high and strong and a couple times I thought they were going to throw me off, but I managed a perfect bottom turn anyway. By the time I decided to take a break for the day and come home, I was the only one left with this other family. The little girl was paddling on the shore with her dad. The mom was sitting like way off looking sad. I think if I see them again I'll tell her parents that they should get her a board because she clearly wanted to get on those waves. She eyed my stick like it was a brand new Barbie jeep when I got out.

 ***

            I've been swimming all day. I try to stick to my area of the pond , but sometimes it gets hard. I feel the cool sensation of the water caressing my soft skin and I think about all the fish out there in the ocean. I think about how easy life is for them. They don’t have to worry about anything — except maybe being eaten. But even that is a worry we all share, regardless of our size and name.

            I used to be one of those idealists. The whole, "don’t judge a crab by its color or until you've swam a mile in its shell" clichéd thing. I was raised right; taught to fend for myself, to hunt when needed but not to waste, and that no matter what, we all share the ocean with other living beings. It was hard at first, because everything just looked so edible, so appetizing. But you swim among the fish long enough to know when you're actually hungry and when you're stomach is growling from vice.

            Everything I learned from the world of the sea I learned from living in it. The who's who of each corner of the ocean and what areas it's ok for me to swim in and which areas I should stay out of. I did learn some from my parents too; they were big enthusiasts of what made the ocean so special, they loved telling me stories of how much everything has changed since they were first born. But it wasn’t for long because eventually I had to learn the hierarchy of the sea on my own and take care of myself. It's always been like that in my family. You're born, you learn a world of history in a day and then you're left on your own, to discover everything the world has to offer.

            Anyway, I won't overdo it with the historical details of my life, they're really not that exciting. But I will say that I am a solitary creature, I like to be alone with my thoughts, to hear the water swooshing past my ears. It gives me time to really appreciate the world I live in, with all of its complexities. It gives me time to observe and to create my own opinions about what is going on around me. I like to watch the schools of fish swimming by, to try to understand why it is that they must always be together, while some of us cannot stand the thought of being in such large company for such large amounts of time.

            Mostly, I try to steer clear of the traditional stereotypes of my kind, I really do, they do us no good, they only further taint our image. That's why I'm ashamed of what I plan on doing. I'm ashamed that I have to resort to this choice, but at this point I think there really is nothing anyone could say to change my mind.

***

            I remember when I was a teenager, I would take my younger cousins out to the water with me. I would try to teach them to surf, but mostly I would just end up with them sitting on the nose of my longboard while I carved the waves. I was pretty good back then — growing up in Hawaii will do that to you. I would spend hours and days at the beach with my friends, turning the perfect color of brown and even earning a couple extra bucks with lessons. But eventually my summers — and even my weekends and after schools — at the beach dwindled and then I got accepted into college and moved to the east coast, exchanging my eternally crumpet skin color for the sickly white of winter.

            I told myself I'd keep coming back. That I didn’t need to sit in an office for my entire summer, that I could very easily split it and spend half of it at the beach — obviously that didn’t work. So then I told myself I would go back after I graduated. But then I got my dream job in DC, where I eventually met Dexter and followed him to New York where we got married.

            When we finally moved back, a couple months ago, it didn’t feel nearly as sweet as I always thought it would. Dr. Feinstein said being somewhere that made me feel comfortable would help me get better faster. So Dexter asked to be relocated and I quit my job, we packed up our things and left the concrete jungle for this haven. But I've been gone for so long — and my parents moved to Florida to be closer to us — that everything seems unfamiliar. In the mean time, while I get re-accustomed to my surroundings, it takes my mind off all my other problems.

            When we first arrived, Dexter played all my old surfing tapes for Clara, who immediately claimed she "wanted to be like mommy and ride a plank!" and I promised I would take her out and teach her for some mother-daughter boding time. I finally conceded, and this morning when she woke up at 5 AM and started jumping on the bed, I let Dexter continue his untroubled sleep and took her out to the beach.

***

            I woke up to the sound of the blender at 5 AM, "rise and shine sleeping beauty," if there was something my dad could not know is that I was incredibly hung-over from Race's party last night and the last thing I wanted to do was go out into the waves, "one week until the competition, you can’t be slacking on me now," he approached my room and stuck his head in through the crack.

            "Goawayb," I mumbled into my pillow, but my dad took that as an excuse to walk into my room and open all the shades, "Daddy it's 5 AM on a Saturdaaaaaay," I said in my best "daddy's little girl" voice.

            "Pet, you promised me and I promised your mom that the only reason I was supporting you was because we all knew you really wanted this, now get moving child!" he walked out of my room to my grunting and begrudgingly getting out of bed. I loved my dad's support, I really wouldn’t have been able to get back on the board without him, but damn was he putting a damper in my sleep.

            I got dressed, thinking about the night before. For the first time in a while I felt really confident walking into a party, like I knew what my plan was, even if it was a plan for the next week. I spent all night talking to Dax who, until last night, had always looked at me with pity eyes. Thank god all of that changed and let's just say, I think after last night I'll have a new fan screaming my name from the beach.

            After I was done daydreaming, I walked downstairs, only to realize what a dork my dad was, he had packed us a cooler and everything. He put my breakfast plate in front of me and turned back around whistling "Surfin' USA" knowing it would get a laugh out of me. I finished my breakfast and said, "You really need to update your surfing music old man," he smacked me with the dishtowel and grabbed the car keys to head out.

 ***

            The sun has come out again, I can only see the few rays that reach the bottom of the ocean, but that's enough to let me know a new day is starting. Most everyone doesn’t realize how dark and cold the bottom of the ocean is. I don’t usually swim down there, I'm a little bit scared of the unknown. Who would have guessed right? That I also have fears? That I'm not as fearless as my image tends to make other believe?

            I swam down there even before the sun was out because I was hungry. I still didn’t succeed in finding anything appetizing. Fish… fish are good, but a meager fishy won’t satiate the hunger that's been growing in me. I haven't come across large enough schools, or even large enough fish. I've learned to stay clear of the big nets, that catch all the fish, that look so appetizing.  I've seen more than one of my peers getting stuck in one of those. It didn’t matter how much they tried to fight their way out, those nets hold and don’t allow a single thing out.

            This morning, after I ventured down, deeper than I'm used to, I finally consolidated my plan. Yesterday it was a mere thought, but today, today I decided that it was necessary. A lesson must be taught and someone has to understand the consequences. I want to give them an excuse to fear me as much as I fear them. I don’t understand why we are always made to be the bad guys when I have seen many more of us die at their hands than the other way around.

            I swim with purpose, and sooner rather than later, I will reach the beach. The sun is starting to shine even brighter now. Not only is my path clear but also my mind. I hope to find someone at the beach at this hour, anyone at this point.

***

            The beach was practically empty when we got there. Clara wanted to carry the board herself, like "a big girl," she told me. I watched as she dragged the board, which was twice her size, behind her. Every time I made a move to help her lift it, she would glare at me behind her curly black lashes. I stopped to put our stuff down under a tree but she was too focused to notice and kept going straight to the ocean.

            "Clara! Come back, we need to practice on land first," she looked back at me, defeated, and ran back leaving her board next to the ocean.

            "But mommy I want to go on the waves!" she whined.

            As I took her shirt off and applied SPF 70 to her baby white skin, I said, "You will, I promise!" it was the first time in a long time that I could relate to my daughter. Maybe Dr. Feinstein had been right, I needed to feel comfortable again and surfing would bring me back to normal. I gave her a genuine kiss on the forehead before taking her hand and walking down to the board.

            I drew a board on the sand and explained to her the movements. They came back to me easily and looked even more natural on Clara than they ever did on me. Maybe this will be our saving grace. As I became more and more at home with the beach and the board, I started looking at Clara differently. Or maybe I should say I went back to looking at her the way I used to.

            She popped up time and time again with ease. Her smile stretched as far as it could go and her pigtails were covered in sand, but she didn’t care. I wish I'd remembered to bring the camera, but I had been so focused on pretending I had forgotten to really feel.

            "Can I go in the sea noooooow?" she asked

            "Yeah, let's go get your rash guard!" She jumped up from the drawn on board and ran back to our stuff, pulling on the rash guard before I had even reached her, "I'm reeeaadyy!!" she screamed at the top of her lungs before covering her mouth with both her hands and going into a fit of giggles.

***

            Dad drove all the way to the beach with the windows down and I hanging my head and arms outside the window.

            "Hey, doggy, get your body back in the car," he pulled on my left arm, "we don't want any more broken bones, ya hear?

            I collapsed back into the seat, "it's the best way to feel the air dad," I turned off the AC and opened the rear two windows as well, "take a deep breath and feel the sea," I said closing my eyes and inhaling deeply.

            My dad laughed and called me a hippie surfer chick, "who do you think I got it from?" I asked turning to look at him. Not long ago I had discovered pictures of my dad in his 20s. He was all long hair and hemp necklaces before he met my mom. He says she grounded him, I say she made him boring.

            The beach was mostly deserted, except for the little girl from the day before with her mom. I watched as her mom taught her how to pop up on a drawn on surfboard. I thought about going over to them and giving them a few words of wisdom as my dad untied my boards from the hood of the car.

            "Want to give me a hand?" asked my dad bringing me out of the stupor while he struggled with keeping his balance and pulling the board down, "I remember when you first started surfing," he motioned with his head to the mom and daughter duo I had been looking at, "you were as much of a natural as that little girl seems to be. And you would NOT let me help you carry your board," he said cracking a smile, "now you expect me to do all the dirty work," I ran over to his side and grabbed the board he had been pulling down.

            We set up camp not too far from the shore, since my dad wanted to take pictures, and I got to stretching and warming up. The sea looked a little mushy, making it a great warm up but terrible if the waves were not to pick up later on. I looked at the horizon and tried to remember my first big surf — the first time I actually stood up on a board and pretended like I had any idea what I was doing — but I couldn’t. My years of surf had all began blurring in together and this was my last chance at actually getting something out of it.

            After much quarreling, I had agreed that if nothing real came out of this last competition then I would apply to college and go off to wherever accepted me come next year. But if I have to leave, I promised myself I'd go somewhere where I could continue surfing, none of that big city, cold weather crap

***

            As I approach the shallower parts of the ocean — the beach — I see some swimmers, but not enough that I would cause a scene. I tread the water carefully. As much as I want to give them a reason to fear, a reason that would make their murder of my kind in numbers justifiable, I also want them to understand that I am a living creature as well. That I too deserve a place in this ocean and that things without me wouldn’t be the same.

            I stay far away enough that I can survey my surroundings. I will need to pick someone small, someone that looks defenseless. This might make me even more horrible, but I can’t afford going after someone who might fight back. God knows enough of us have gotten hurt when trying to attack. Humans, they too have their own hidden strengths.

            I've never tasted human. I've heard it tastes funny, nothing like what we're used to eating. Their meat is supposedly chewier. I don’t think that'll be a real problem since I have many teeth and honestly I barely chew my food before swallowing it. Baby seals are my favorite. They're small enough that I can eat a whole one before others come — lured by the smell of blood — but large enough to satiate my appetite. Unfortunately, I haven't come across many seals lately, which means I've stuck with fish. Until now.

***

            "Ok Clara, are you ready?" she looked at me bewildered, as I held the board in place and told her to paddle. The sea was relatively calm, which was good considering she still hadn't managed to catch a single wave.

            "You got this sweetie, just paddle with your arms and kick those strong legs of yours," I gave her encouraging words and she nodded to me in return, "Now!" I said taking a step back from the board. She kicked up a lot of water, but didn’t move much in any direction.

            "Mommy I can’t do this," she sniffled.

            I approached the board once again, "Yes you can! You just have to pretend that the only way you're going to get close to the shore is if you paddle with all your might. Remember what Mommy told you? There's only so much the wave can do for you, you have to help it out too!" She started crying.

            "You don’t like me anymore right mommy? Is it because I can’t surf?" I pushed her drooping pigtails out of her face. I never thought it would hurt me this much to hear her say that, I thought it would feel like a relief.

            "Of course I like you. In fact, I love you!" I smiled and cleaned the tears that had become one with the ocean spray off her face, "and I am so proud of you for trying to surf. We can keep coming back as many times as you want, until you get it ok?" she nodded and flashed me a gap toothed smile, "you want to try again?"

            She nodded sniffing, and, this time, she got into position without me having to tell her where to put her arms and legs. I've never seen her look so focused and I couldn’t help but smile to myself. For the first time in a long while, I could really see how things were going to get better. Maybe not immediately, but there was something to look forward to.

***

            I sat on my board watching the sun slowly rise. When we had first gotten to the beach, the sky was still an awkward shade of blue, but as I sat on my board on the line up, the sky slowly became more and more yellowed until it reached a happy hue of green.

            On mornings like these, I had to remind myself to take a deep breath and thank God for letting me come back to where I belonged. I had known so many people who had suffered less severe injuries than mine and had never managed to get back out. "It's all about will power," my doctor had told me, "if you work hard enough you'll be out there in no time, but you can't give up on your body, no matter how much it hurts."

            I'd been through so much to find myself back in this same place. Now, I was a week away from my biggest competition yet and I still panicked when I first hit the water. It was something I couldn’t tell anyone because I knew it was all in my head. I had to pretend to be a bad ass who feared nothing and no one.

            I watched as the swell began picking up, a little stronger so that I wouldn’t have to paddle as much, but weak enough that my muscles would get a chance to accustom themselves to the strain. I looked to my right where the little girl and her mom were still trying to catch a wave. I could tell she would get it eventually, but right now she was kicking up more water than anything. It was cute, but I just hoped that barney wouldn’t get in the way.

            I looked back at my dad, who was standing at the beach looking out at me. He flashed me a thumbs up, which I responded with an open palm. It was our sign, to check in with each other. The waves weren't cranking yet so I couldn’t quite give him the thumbs up.

            I turned my board around so it was facing the beach again, I stretched my body out on the board and felt the wax and scratches of the board through my boardies and rash guard. I looked back to see a wave begin its slow approach and growth. I looked once again towards the little girl with her mother and then I began to paddle.

            I got up swiftly and smoothly, making a cut back with ease. The sea carried me carefully close to the shore and I knew it was going to be a good day. My dad had now sat down with a book and was no longer looking at me expectantly, he knew there was nothing to worry about anymore

***

            I can see three distinct people in the water right now. There is one person on a surfboard, alone, apart from everyone else. From the way she kicks her feet, I can tell she's an experienced swimmer and possibly strong. I should try to steer clear of that human.

            Further out, there are two other humans. One has little feet and kicks up in every which way drawing my attention almost immediately. It might be harder to get to that one since she is with a larger human, but it seems like a safer bet than going for the lonesome one.

            I need to hurry up and make my move. The longer I wait the more humans will arrive at the beach and then it will definitely be hard to get away once I've made my mark on the little one's body.

            I set my sights on her tiny feet and begin my slow approach.

***

            I looked back at the ocean and saw that the swell was starting to pick up and realize that our time was running out. If she didn’t catch a wave in the next couple of minutes we were going to have to give up for the day and come back some other time. When the waves got too big, even I had a hard time fighting the current.

            "Ok baby, let's try one last time ok?" Clara nodded at me. I could tell she was starting to wear out because her gaze was not as determined as it was. Her eyes were droopy and I knew that as much as she wanted to catch a wave, she really wanted to go home, drink some iced tea and take a nap.

            I looked back to see a wave slowly growing in speed and size as it approached us. This is it I thought to myself, this is going to be the wave of all waves.

            "Paddle, paddle, paddle!" I said as Clara began the rapid movement of her limbs.

***

            I looked to the side and saw the little barney catching some speed with the next wave. The mother was waving her arms around wildly, excited that for the first time in a while, her daughter was going somewhere. I smiled at myself and even cheered along with the mother. She turned to look at me and nodded a thanks, while my dad put his book down and looked up to see what all the commotion was about.

            As I turned to look back to see when the next wave was coming, I saw the man in a grey suit. That noah was swimming straight in their direction. I panicked as I often do when I see sharks. Regardless of how much time I spend in the water, they still scare the crap out of me. I wanted to scream but I knew that would lead to more commotion and that would make the noah speed up. I remembered my lifeguard training and made sure that both of my feet were on top of the board. I began paddling slowly in their direction so I wouldn’t call too much attention to myself.

            "Excuse me!" I said animatedly but not too loudly. The mother could barely hear me as her daughter began even greater advances on catching that wave, "Excuse me, lady, you need to get out of the water," I said, this time even closer to them. She turned to look at me, confused. I gave her a meek smile and pointed in the direction of the grey fin.

***

            The girl had come so close, so calmly, that the last thing I expected was her pointing towards a shark. I didn’t know how to react, I had forgotten how to deal with real sharks in all my time surrounded by wolfs. My first instinct was to make much more noise and bigger movements than Clara was making to bring its attention towards us. But then I looked at the young girl and knew that if it came towards us, both of us were toast.

            "Clara baby!" I screamed at her. She was too focused on getting up and paddling fast to hear me, "Clara stop paddling!" I screamed at the top of my lungs.

***

            I saw the look in her eyes. The look of utter defeat and fear. I didn’t know what to do. I wished there was something I could do. My dad still hadn’t taken his eyes off the water, he could tell that something was wrong.

            I lifted both of my hands up on top of my head, signaling him to be on the lookout. He quickly dropped his book on the sand and ran straight to the shore. He lifted both of his arms up in question and I pointed towards the little girl. The mother was crying and I felt awkward but I knew this was the best time to keep my calm.

***

            I don’t pay attention to anything else. I swim straight for the kicking feet. I don’t want to eat her whole, just take a bite.

            I feel the wind tickling my fin as I gain speed. Just a bite I remind myself. It doesn’t matter how delicious that human meat tastes, you want to just bite. I speed up again, seeing the image of the little human getting closer and closer to me.

***

            I was frozen in place. There was nothing I could do. The girl next to me had signaled her dad and he was making his way slowly into the water. I didn’t know what he could do, but whatever happened, he could pull Clara out of the sea much faster than I could considering how far I was from her. I think he was holding a rock in his right hand, and by god I hoped he was strong enough to fight the shark back.

            My breaths were coming in shallow and I was crying out in fear. My baby girl. All I wanted was for her to be happy. For her to get a chance at being happy at least. I realized how much I loved her, and Andrew, at that moment. I realized how the thought of losing her was cutting deep into my soul.

***

            I was gripping my board so tightly that my nails were starting to bend against the hard resin. I looked down to find the mother gripping my arm but I couldn’t feel anything anymore.

            "Come on daddy, come on," I kept mumbling under my breath, "just get her out of here."

            My eyes were starting to tear. I had heard of countless shark attacks but I never thought I'd actually see one. I never thought I'd see someone so young under the jaws of a fucking noah.

 ***

            This is it. This is it. I open my mouth wide just as I see her begin pulling her foot away to stand on the board.

***

            I heard the scream before I saw anything. I swam to her as fast as I could, at that point I didn’t care if the shark came after me too. I just wanted to hold my baby girl. I just wanted to make sure she was going to be ok.

            The girl's dad had already pulled her out and was screaming at the incoming people to call 911. Everyone was in shock, but I saw a couple people pull their phones out.

            The sea had turned red with her blood and the foam was a Barbie shade of pink. I couldn’t see very well through my tears but I prayed and prayed it had only bitten her. I prayed it hadn’t actually taken a part of her with him. I hoped he hadn't made her his lunch

***

            She let go of my arm and began swimming towards her daughter. I was still frozen in place, too scared to move. I could see my dad with the girl in his arms running towards the shore. The only thing on my mind was finding where this noah had gone and making sure he didn’t come after anyone else.

            While I looked around I began slowly and calmly paddling towards the shore. With the aid of the waves, the little girl's blood had become one with the sea. I couldn’t see the shark in front of me, but when I turned back I saw his fin slowly receding. My heart was pounding in my ears and I knew there was no chance I was going to be ready for my competition next week.{C}[S2]{C} 

***

            Cass, her dad, Clara and Rose all reached the ambulance as it approached the beach parking lot. Cassandra's dad was holding on tightly to Clara as she screamed out in pain and fear, not letting go as her wails pierced his heart. He kept whispering "you'll be ok" into her ear, as Cass held on to Rose's hand, also trying to ease her fear.

            The salty tears mixed with the sea and blood and stuck to everyone's bodies and clothes. All Rose could think about was how much she was going to have to scrub the rash guard to get the stains out. Cassandra knew this was the end of her career as a surfer {C}[S3]{C} — for now. She couldn’t fathom the idea of having to step into the sea any time soon. It made her angry, angrier than she had ever been. Cass's dad kept seeing his own little girl's face on the snotty Clara. He wanted to help, to ease everyone's pain. He was used to being the positive one, but at that moment all he could do was thank God the shark hadn't gone after Cass.

            Rose stood to a side watching the scene unfold. She kept asking herself how this could happen. She thought it was her fault, for not being more present in Clara's life in the last months; for letting her mind takeover her heart. She promised herself she would be better, she would try harder.

            Clara was in pain, yes, but she had also had the best day with her mom. She remembered back to her last day of school in New York, when she had learned about the decline in the shark population. She knew this would mean no more surf classes for a while, but at least she would have a cool scar forever.

            This moment brought them together for a couple of hours, as they waited for the surgeon to assure everyone that Clara was going to be ok and that no she had not lost any limbs. But as the sun began setting once again, Cass and her dad returned home and Clara and Rose were joined by Dexter and Andrew. They would never see each other again as not long after, Cass got accepted to USC and moved to California and Rose and her family moved back to New York.

            As for the shark, he vowed to never go after a human again. He realized he didn’t like how they tasted.