I watched the silhouettes of Bea and Merilee float behind the watery curtain. Their naked bodies seemed natural now, lovely almost, airy like sea maidens dancing gracefully together, apart, then together again as though embracing. The rush of tumbling water played tricks on my eyes, and I imagined they were kissing. I took my sunglasses off and squinted. Jesus. They were kissing, really kissing, on the lips. Totally making out!

Mirabelle continued dozing, unaware. Did she know? Was this just happening now or had it been going on for a long time? Roommates my ass. I sat back down and tried not to watch, tried to concentrate on anything else. I took a bite of my sandwich, but my appetite was zilch. The sea cows were going at it now, knotted together, twisting behind their glass curtain, then suddenly they flew apart. Oh God, they caught me watching. I dropped my head and pretended to eat, but they were already scrambling back down those rocks, slipping into the water, swimming back toward shore toward me. Now what?

I grabbed my Walkman, put on my headphones, and scrunched myself as small as I could as the sea monsters lumbered onto shore, water dripping off their bodies.

My heart pounded as they came nearer, toweling off and wrapping themselves in those ugly sarongs. Merilee whispered; Bea nodded. I glanced around furtively for an escape as they plodded in my direction, clump-clump, holding hands, wet heads hanging bashfully, staring at me with bad-puppy eyes as if they’d dug up the flowers and were about to get punished. I prayed something terrible would happen before they reached me—an earthquake or volcanic eruption. Behind them, Mirabelle climbed onto shore. She hopped up and down on one foot, tapping her head to clear water from her ears.

They stood before me, naughty girls. My mother tried explaining something, “…wanted to wait…” “…really love her…” “…should have told you…” “…right honey?”

I let the Walkman fall from my hand as I ducked past them. Their words skidded off my back. I stripped down to my black, shiny bathing suit; a superhero revealing her true identity. I took a deep breath and charged into the water. Cold, but not as cold as me. I was no longer afraid. If an electric eel had swum up to me, I’d have grasped it in my hands and twisted its neck—lights out for good.

From shore, the falls had appeared a lot closer. I swam as hard as I could, pushing forward and trying not to swallow water. My superpowers were fading, and I remembered that in my other identity, I was a weak swimmer. I bore down and gulped at the air, pulling myself toward the falls. Gasping for air, I arrived at the base and gripped the rocks, heaving myself up.