When the front door swings open, I jump up from the window ledge, panic flooding through me. Reece strides in, placing a bag on the bed before peeling off his jacket, his thick eyebrows drawn together.

"Are you all right?" he asks, throwing his jacket on the bed before closing the distance between us. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." I step away from his fingers before nodding toward the bed. "What's in the bag?"

"You're not a very good liar," Reece says after a moment or two, though he doesn't press the issue. "I got us some snacks and spare clothes." He moves toward the window, edging the billowy curtains out of the way before peering out. Once he's satisfied there's nobody out there, he strides toward the bathroom before looking at me over his shoulder. "I'm going to take a quick shower. Would you mind making some coffee?"

"Sure," I say, though inside I can feel my stomach swirling at the thought of doing something I have no experience of. Still, I don't want Reece to see how much I'm struggling now that I'm in the real world. I don't want him to think all I'm good for is twirling and making guests happy. Maybe if I prove him right, that I can't survive in this new world, he'll try to take me back.

Reece gives me a tired smile before heading into the bathroom. I continue to stand frozen in the middle of the motel room, as if somebody's flipped an off switch on me.

I have always known what to do in Marine World, from what time I should flip my tail in a performance to how I'm supposed to interact with a guest. But now that I am faced with something I have no understanding of, it's like my brain is trying to shut down.

Reece must know that I've never had to make a cup of coffee before, so why would he ask me unless this is some kind of test to see how well I will cope on my own? And if it is a test, it is a test I want to pass. I want to prove to him–to myself–that I can do this, that I'm capable of being self-sufficient now I no longer have Marine World to rely on.

With a deep breath, my eyes skim over the rest of the room, landing on a small table where a tray filled with packets of tea and coffee sit. I pick up one of the packets before pausing. I'd seen Teresa make herself coffee back in the facility, and I thought maybe once I held the packet between my fingers, I'd suddenly know what to do. I'd suddenly know how to be human.

Tears start to form, though I hold them in the same way I always have, as if the eyes of Marine World are still on me. The bathroom door creaks open a fraction and I drop the packet before quickly wiping my eyes.

"Aura?" Reece moves beside me, but I still don't take my eyes off the table.

"I don't know how to," I say after a moment of silence.

"How to what?" Reece asks.

I involuntarily meet his gaze. His hair is still damp and curly from his shower, his gray t-shirt now sprinkled with droplets of water. My eyes briefly fall to the corners of his mouth, which are pulled into a boyish frown.

"How to make coffee," I say, wishing my voice didn't shake.

Realization flashes across his features. He runs a hand through his hair, his jaw suddenly clenched in irritation. "I'm sorry," he says, his gaze softening. "When I asked, I completely forgot you–"

"Can't do anything?" I finish.

Reece gives me a pointed look. "I don't know anybody who can do something they've never tried before," he says, ordering me to turn around.

I hesitate before doing as I'm told. He moves behind me so that my back is against his chest, his arms snaking around the sides of me until I'm trapped in his embrace. I tense as he reaches for the coffee packet, his brown, muscular arm stretching past me before he opens it up and pours it into the mug.

"First, you have to boil the water in the kettle," Reece says in a low voice against my ear, flicking the switch on the kettle so that the light turns red. I swallow hard, the feeling of Reece's body pressed against mine both thrilling and terrifying.

I am reminded of that time in the night enclosure, when Reece had caught me having a midnight swim. Those butterflies I'd felt fluttering against the walls of my stomach, the desire I'd had to know how his skin would feel against mine. It is the same way I feel in this very moment, as though everything else in the world has faded away.

When the kettle boils, Reece's arm stretches over and he pours the water into the cup, causing a cloud of steam to brush against my cheeks.

"A little cream and sugar," he continues, stirring the contents of the cup with a spoon before stepping aside.

I turn and look at him, both of us silent as we take the other in. He's the only one who can do that. Who can look at me like he's not seeing a genetically engineered mermaid, but a real person.

"I don't think I can do this," I say, fixing my gaze on a smudge on the wall. "I can't survive out here in the real world, Reece. I don't know how to do anything."

"What do you think you've been doing, if not surviving?" Reece asks. "You're the reason you made it out of Marine World, Aura. You wanted to be free, so you made it happen. You've been doing nothing but surviving. Who cares if you can't make a cup of coffee?"

He leans in slightly, his gaze flitting to my lips for a moment before finding my own again. Whenever he looks at me, it's as if he sees me. Not the me he wants me to be, or the me that I could be, but the girl I am in this moment. I find myself leaning in closer, unsure of what it is I'm doing but knowing it feels right.