For a while, they took turns staring at the iridescent white water in the jar through the quintescope. Then they waded into the stream and took turns staring at the iridescent white water flowing from the source.
But ten minutes later, they weren’t staring or wading. They were floating. The three of them were in the water, clothes and all.
Alma wasn’t sure if it was Shirin’s influence or the reckless feeling of being out in the middle of the night or something about that place, something about the source of the creek. But as she floated in the water, steam rising up around her, stars blazing above her, Alma thought that this was exactly where she was supposed to be.
“What a night,” said Shirin. She was bathed in moonlight. She looked, Alma thought, like a mermaid. Or like another fallen star. Alma was sure that wasn’t how she herself looked, but that was how she felt. “I’m so glad I found those jars and asked my mom about the symbols. She’s a scientist, actually. She works for Third Point Labs. Did you know that?”
“Your mother?” Hugo asked. He turned his steam-fogged visor gaze toward Shirin. “Really? I would not have expected your family tree to contain scientists.”
“Well, it does,” Shirin said, splashing water Hugo’s way. “Lots, in fact. My mom works with, like, bacteria and stuff, but she knows tons about astronomy because that was what her mother studied. My mom always wanted me and my sister to learn about it too, but Farah is always too busy to do anything with anyone. And I guess I was never really interested before. I’ve tried lots of other hobbies though—tap dance, ballet, piano, trumpet, basketball, ceramics, archery, fencing, opera, watercolor—”
“So why are you interested now?” Hugo asked, interrupting Shirin’s seemingly never-ending list.
“Yes, why?” Alma asked. She had been wondering about this since the day of their first meeting. Why would Shirin—popular and outgoing—join a club with a nobody like her?
Shirin was uncharacteristically silent. Then she said, quietly, “I guess I thought it would be something new. Something where I could just be, like, me.”
“But you said you had all those hobbies,” Alma said. “And you have a million friends.”
“That’s true.” Shirin swished her hands in the water, moonlit wakes rippling out with every motion. “But I always get bored with my hobbies. And my friends—I like them, but—”
“You find them vapid and mindless?” Hugo suggested.
Shirin’s head bobbed back and forth. “It’s not like that,” she said. “Plenty of them are smart and funny and amazing. But they—they spend a lot of time worrying about who’s popular and who’s pretty, and I don’t want to think about that stuff all the time. Maybe some of them feel the same way I do, I don’t know. It’s hard to tell.” She sighed, her eyes on the sky. “Anyway, my sister said things get better in high school. She said everyone isn’t so obsessed with fitting in and being perfect and everything. Even though she thinks she is. Ugh.”
Alma thought this might be true. James hadn’t had a lot of friends in high school, but he’d seemed less moody than he’d been in middle school. He had smiled more, talked to her more, helped her with her homework more. And when he’d come home from college for winter break in December, he’d seemed almost like a different person. But still …
“High school is a long way away,” she said as she stretched her arms above her head, letting the water rush into the empty spaces left behind.
“Too long,” Shirin agreed.
“The life expectancy for American women is 81.6 years,” Hugo said. “Assuming you live that long the remainder of middle school is just two percent of your life.”
Shirin laughed and splashed Hugo again. “Thanks, Hugo. Alma and I are super relieved,” she said. “But I don’t really want to spend even two percent of my life trying to be someone else. I guess that’s why when I found the flyer and bottles and we’d all seen the Starling, it felt like—like this adventure was meant for me. The real me.”
Alma remembered what she’d thought when she’d read the water section, and even though she felt silly, she said, “You know, when you got the water, you were kind of shining too. It’s almost like—like this is your element? Like you’re an elemental of water, like the book says.”
“Are you saying I’m—what was it? Vain and inconsistent?”
“No!” Alma cried. “No, not that part. But you’re—you make things exciting. And you’re fun. You brought us here. You brought us to the water. And I’m pretty sure this counts as an adventure.”
“Uh, yeah, I’d say so,” Shirin agreed with a grin. “What do you think, Hugo?”
Hugo was staring up at the sky. His visor-glasses reflected the shining disk of the moon. His feet kicked slowly, keeping him afloat.
“The last few days,” he said, “have mostly been profoundly confusing for me. But I cannot deny that this is the biggest adventure I have ever had.”