Mack: Sorry, he’s camera shy.
My heart sinks a bit at the rejection, even though it’s silly. We’re talking about fish. Fish tanks, at that.
Typing bubbles appear again.
Mack: But I’ll send you a picture of the new tank, how about that? I haven’t switched him over yet.
I raise my brows.
Jules: Deal.
Mack: Incoming.
As I wait for the picture in my inbox, I click through my open tabs. Multiverse. Aquariumaniacs. Fanfic.
I click back, and the message from Mack has arrived with an attachment.
Why am I so nervous to see a picture of an empty tank? Something about it feels so personal.
I open the attachment and gasp, hand to mouth.
The tank is huge. Bigger than anyone could possibly need for one fish, unless he’s keeping a shark or dolphin in there, which the Freemont Aquarium forum people would find highly unethical. But the enclosure takes up half the wall. Next to the tank, tacked up, is a framed picture. It’s too blurry to make out what’s inside, but it kind of looks like the face of a man.
Hmmm. Could it be? Could that be Mack? Why would he have a picture of himself on his own wall? Then again, he is a man . . . they do weird shit like that.
And what could he possibly need with a tank this enormous? But also, we did meet on a fish forum filled with fish fanatics on a local forum called the Aquariumaniacs.
What was I expecting?
I click my mouse to zoom in on the picture, narrowing my eyes to inspect closely. There’s a reflection in the tank of the room in front of it, but it appears mostly empty other than a long white couch.
Then something in the corner of the reflection startles me. I blink hard to determine the image, and then my adrenaline spikes.
What the fuck is that?
There’s a creature in the picture. Or at least part of a creature. Surely that can’t be a fish? Can it?
But it looks like a fish.
I lean in, mind racing.
At least, it looks fish-like. But also . . .
Also, it looks like a man.
Chapter 2
Izoom in on my screen and put my face right up to it, but that does nothing but blur my vision even more. I lean back again and squint, and the image clarifies.
In the very corner of the picture is a face. Almost one that looks like a fish but also oddly like a man. It’s white and translucent in color, I can only see about the top quarter, or at least what I think is the top quarter. A large opalescent light blue eye, a high forehead, or at least what might be called a forehead. But also . . . an ear?
The fish has ears? Like human ears? Something like that. Ears but with pointed little fins circling the outer shell.
I sit back in my chair. Relax. It’s an illusion what you’re seeing. A reflection of a reflection. It’s just his fish. He only has the one, so it must be really, really big. Also, there’s gotta be fish in the world that resemble people.
My fingers type quickly, and I search the internet for “fish that look like humans.”
Results pop up, videos with creepy, human-like aquatic creatures swimming in murky, gray waters. Despite the off-putting images, I sigh in relief. It’s totally possible that this fish has a human-like face. A weird mixture of genetics that got us to where we are today.
Maybe that’s why Mack doesn’t want to share any pictures on the forum. A rare fish like he has could potentially put him in danger. Someone might want to steal it. Do experiments on it. Fry it up for dinner. You know how dangerous aquarium forums are.
I laugh a little to myself and shove another soggy spoonful of Froot Loops in my mouth, chewing thoughtfully on the soft grains.
All this isolation has done a number on me apparently. I wasn’t always a shut-in. But it happens easier than you’d think.
I pick up my phone to text Kate. She’ll set me straight, although Kate is a weirdo in her own right. She has four boyfriends, none of whom I’ve ever met, and one of them, I’m pretty sure, is a ghost.
She didn’t always have a ghost boyfriend. She used to be super normal, and we went to college together.
I guess I used to be super normal too, according to a lot of people.
I save the image and tap Kate’s contact from my phone.
“Good morning, my darling,” she says, answering on the first ring.
“Damn, why are you up so early?” I look at the clock and realize it’s now six fifteen in the morning.
I probably should’ve checked before calling, but I’ve always kept weird hours, and Kate never seems to mind. At least, ever since she’s been with her four boyfriends, she seems infinitely happy.
