“If this were a fairy tale, this would be the part where the fishboy appears and Diana shoots him through the heart. Because he is a tragic hero, he's our fucking Gatsby, and he lived for his fish and he has to die for his fish. He would never let my fake authority, condoning his abandonment, making up rules about what's okay just to save his life, convince him to give up his family. He would never leave.
He would know that without him, none of us will be as good. Me, without a friend; and the fish, without a brother; and the island, without a story; and Diana, without her something real, we will all be a little bit less than we were before we knew him.
So he wouldn't leave. Not until I could come with him. And I have never been less able to leave than I am now.
But this isn't a fairy tale, and he doesn't appear. We stand here for a long time.
He really left.
Because it was all that we could do.”
“I like books. I thought you liked books."
"Let's be honest, Rudy, books are pornography for brains. All that subtext and bullshit and hidden imagery.”
“I think this is the part where we stop pretending we’re not going to see each other again.”
“I could totally be a . . .
whatever.”
“Sailor?”
“On a boat?”
“Yep.”
“Yeah.” He’ll sigh all wistfully. “I could be a sailor. But I’m too busy being a fish.”
“I close my eyes and listen to the ocean.
I'm thinking about sailing, to England or maybe France. The way the wind would feel on my face and the sound of his voice screaming my name through his laughter. The waves would crash like applause. God, I remember when I used to be afraid of the ocean.”
“I ignore people who need me and latch on to people who don't. I dive into every other world except my own just because I want something more glamorous than my real life. I do destructive shit so a stupid hypocritical fish will like me.
I fall for fish instead of girls.”
“I’m bored of this. I want to hear about you. Favorite color. Go.”
I laugh. “Green.”
“I’m green!”
“Fuck yeah you are.”
“Why are you laughing? Isn’t this what friends do?”
“Interrogate each other?”
“What? Uh, sure. I don’t know what that means. But yes.”
“You're absolved," I tell him.
He brings his eyes back up to mine. There's no fucking way he knows what that word means. That's a word I dream someone will say to me.
So I put it in his language. "You're free.”
“I wish we would all just fall apart so I wouldn't have to listen to the downfall happen, so slowly, so painfully.”
“He says, "But it is really whatever, you know? You've saved me way more times. And we call ourselves friends."
It doesn't matter what we call ourselves, really. "You already saved me," I say.
"That was nothing."
"I'm not talking about the cave."
He wrinkles his nose.
"That first day," I say, "When you got up on the rocks to flirt with a human boy."
He smiles big, with all his ground-down teeth shining.”
“It's not just like that. I can't just swim away."
"Why not?"
"I'm afraid I'll drown." He looks up and gives the world's smallest smile. He takes a deep breath with those lungs. "I'm afraid I'll drown.”
“He'd kill one to save me, but not to save himself. Just like I'd risk Dylan's life for him but not for me. It makes us a little horrible.”
“Make sure you're not expecting cute. This isn't Looking For Alaska.”
“I wish we could get away from our fish.”
“Pathetic, huh?” He learned that word
from me.
“Yeah. It’s like the opposite of a fish,
right?”
“He shakes his head. "They're hunting the Enkis. I know that. And I get that. But . . . we're special."
"The reason they want them is because they're special. Anchovies aren't going to cure anyone."
"That's not the special I mean." He catches another fish and hugs it to his chest.
I'm trying to be gentle. "They're only special to you because they're yours."
"I could say the same thing about that cute kid you were holding."
Well, shit.”
“I say, "Good job, buddy," and his face is like I've just fixed the whole world.”
“And fuck it, because that was seriously fucking fantastic.”
“Shit, boy. Look at me. Do they have me right now? Are you tying me up and hitting me and... whatever? Did you trap me?"
"I..." I shake my head.
"And do I look free?”
“He has lungs and a heart and he... he is just telling himself over and over again that he is all fish because that's what you wanted him to be.”
“If this were a fairy tale, this would be the part where the fishboy appears and Diana shoots him through the heart. Because he is a tragic hero, he's our fucking Gatsby, and he lived for his fish and he has to die for his fish.”
“if my friends or my girlfriend back home saw who I've turned into, I don't think they'd recognize me. And I think that's okay with me.”
“There has to be a way. I didn't die in that cave, and Dylan didn't die when he was two, and Teeth didn't die in the shrimp boat, because there is always a way. And I'm going to find it.”
“I should have touched him. I missed my chance to find out what he was.”
“You are no longer responsible. You are no longer allowed to give a shit. Nobody can need you ever again. Go.”
“My last girlfriend at home was Gabrielle. We were together for only a month before I left. I pretty much knew by the time we kissed for the first time that I was leaving soon. That's probably why I kissed her so hard that I bruised my lip against her teeth. I felt like I could get every bit of me inside of her, if I tried hard enough. I don't know.”
“Once we’re back to safety, we float on our backs by the sandbar.”
“It's not disgusting. Books are disgusting."
"I like books. I thought you liked books."
"Let's be honest, Rudy, books are pornography for brains.”
“Swim. I shove myself off the dock with my feet and fucking flail as hard as I can.”
“I don’t want you to go yet. I like having you here with me. You soothe me, baby.” He rested his head on top of mine. “You are my ray of light in a fog of ignorance and frustration.”
“The idea was flawed, of course," he said irritably. "Innately and fatally flawed. It depended on two of the human race's greatest myths: the possibility of permanence, and the simplicity of human nature. Both of which are all well and good in literature, but the purest fantasy outside the covers of a book. Our story should have stopped that night with the cold cocoa, the night we moved in: and they all lived happily ever after, the end. Inconveniently, however, real life demanded that we keep on living.”
“They can't make you do anything you don't want to do.”
“As hard as it may be to believe, I never meant to hurt you, and I sure as fuck wouldn’t stand by and let someone else hurt you, either.”
“Niten drew in a deep shuddering breath and the air was suffused with the delicate odor of green tea.
“And Tsagaglalal . . .”
“Yes, Father?”
Prometheus closed his eyes. “Tell Niten to find Aoife and ask her the question. Tell him . . . tell him she will say yes.”
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