Fish Out of Water

Hey! Here's my latest update, I know it's a short chapter, but I was too excited to wait. Thanks to everyone who's keeping up with my story!

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I went back after a week. Crossing my fingers, I tiptoed into Noah's, trying to make it to the fish section before Gecko Girl had the chance to spot me. When I reached the dark, flickering fish room I had to catch my breath. It was humid today and my shirt clung to the rise and fall of my chest as I leaned against the wall.

"Didn't know they were holding triathlons in Noah's."

I knew that voice by now, with its throaty lull, enough disinterest to pass as seductive but not enough to convince me he didn't care.

"Haha. Um. I think I might be allergic to... um animals."

"Yeah? Because you sure look like you had a lead on Claire back there." He waggled his thumb behind, and sure enough there stood Gecko Girl. I figured I needed to backpedal at this point.

"Nah, I was just super excited to see you," and at that I jabbed his chest with my finger. His lip twitched and for a moment, I think he believed me.

"No one's excited to see me unless you're my mother."

"Horrifying thought."

"Horrifying to say the least. Mum's an animal," he stuttered, "I mean—"

"That's an awful pun."

His face reddened, "Whatever."

"We're standing in a pet store and you say your mom—"

"I bet you're a real animal, Ruthie." His composure was back and he was swinging. Swinging with incredible accuracy, at that.

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I'll never forget that day. It was when I realized I needed to figure my shit out, especially when it came to Ruth. And that moment, that one second when I called her an animal, it was her turn to blush. God damnit. I wish she wouldn't. She had a cute little nose too. I guess I never noticed that, but when she got embarrassed, her face would twitch, a contorted attempt to regain her pride and it was that little button nose that wiggled at me like a rabbit. A fucking rabbit. God.

"So," I had to bring this back to ground level, "How are the pumps?"

"Working fairly well. Took me some nights to get used to the buzz."

"Lucky for you, goldfish usually keep it down." She giggled, a dimple forming.

"Hey Ruthie, I'm serious. You came into a pet store of party animals, and you pick the quietest ones."

"That gecko back there seemed pretty quiet."

"Yeah, but it comes with Claire, and she's a handful. We have to offer the two of them at a discount." Ruth snorted, her hand flying to her mouth.

"Jack!" She whispered at me.

"So what's the plan?"

"Well, I was thinking about talking about fish today. And, um, fish stuff..." She continued on, talking about feng shui or something, but my head wasn't letting me focus on her words. Instead, I felt my gaze drifting to her lips, they were—

"...So yeah."

"Sorry what was that last part?"

"I'm thinking chubby. I liked those fluttery ones, with the big eyes."

"The butterfly telescope eyes?"

"I think so. You were really into them the last time I came and I kind of, well, fell in love with them too."

She wandered to the tank of butterflies and stared. They floated, red, orange, pearly light reflecting on her face. Their mouths opened and closed with the rhythm I had memorized. I leaned forward and pinched her cheeks, forcing her lips into a fish face.

"Glub glub."

"Fuck off," she laughed.

That night I dreamed about Ruth. I had just built a bookshelf for my den, and spent most of the evening organizing my books. Steinbeck. Salinger. No, Salinger comes before. Tartt. Hemingway. Some obscure books on Taoism. At first I dreamed about pages. The letters blurred, forming a braille. Braille swirls. Then the designs flew off the pages. When they hit the air, they became suspended, lightly floated in front of my face. I pushed them back with my hand. They caught, and I pushed harder.

"Blow," I heard Ruth whisper and I blew the patterns away, revealing her. She was sitting with her legs spread wide, and in her hands she had a knife.

"What are you doing?"

"Sacrifice me, baby." Baby?

Fuck. I woke up sweating. That was not the type of dream guys wish for, let me tell you. Like, if that were a lucid dream, Ruth would be holding... Fuck. I told myself I gotta stop this. I pulled myself out of bed and turned on the lights to my aquarium. The ryukins rushed to the surface.

"Nice try, guys." But they knew I was a sucker. I really was. I sprinkled some shrimp chips over the surface of the water. Stevie Nicks and Malcom X butted each other, while the others gulped the little red disks. I watched them, and let the thoughts in my head clear.

I shouldn't have been having dreams about Ruth. She was just some girl with a huge amount of money, recently and suspiciously acquired, who decided to blow it on a new goldfish hobby. Oh sexy, definitely sexy. That's what I would do with a lot of money.

That was something that bothered me. I mean, sure, when I got past the weird attraction I had to a woman I had only seen a couple times, it was the spontaneity that bothered me. It was off. "No one just coughs up that kind of money on something they've never tried before," I whispered to Malcom X, "That's fishy, if you ask me." Malcom's eyes glared at me. He didn't appreciate my puns any more than Ruth did.

"You could at least fake amusement, you little sonofabitch." I smiled at that, and the little goldfish wiggled back to the others. I had never loved my hobby more, but now I was genuinely sharing it with someone, and she was genuinely falling in love with it. That was another thing I found sexy about Ruth. The way she looked at me when I talked to her, the way she fiddled with her earlobe when she was thinking. I laughed out loud at that. She lapsed into those bouts of deep thinking so often it was painfully obvious that biology really puzzled her.

Malcom was back at the front of the tank, and his face seemed to say to me, "Maybe that's a good thing Jack. You can't get bored when there is a sea of knowledge to be released." Talk about release— that was something I needed, if you get my gist.