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Ket was the first to finish changing. But then, that is sort of a given. When it came to getting ready for things, girls were usually slower. He would definitely get yelled at if he said that out loud, but it wasn't a mean thing to say, it was just true.

He ran his finger on the leg of his new pair of swim trunks. It wasn't the normal material that trunks were usually made out of; instead of being stiff and heavy this material was light and loose, almost like silk. It was a good fit too, even without the strings tied. And that was another thing, the strings tied on the inside of the waist, so he didn't have a goofy loop-dee-loop hanging from his belly-button like he was trying to smuggle a pair of safety-pops.

"Hell-low!"

Ket sat upright, having slouched in his wait. He looked left; Emeral was leaning against the pole of the little roof that covered the walkway between the men's and women's rooms.

"I walked right by and you didn't even look up."

"Sorry?"

She giggled. "You think too hard sometimes," she let off the wooden beam. "So...?"

"So...?" He repeated quizzically.

She raised her arms up, and twisted her upper body, "How do I look?"

Even then, it took Ket a full two seconds to figure out what she meant.

She was wearing a new swimsuit. It was colored very dark blue, almost purple like her old one. It was a very solid color with not much detail, except for one that was very noticeable. The right shoulder-strap was a very light, bluish-purple, and gradated to more of a pink as it reached the apex of her shoulder. The coloring extended from the strap, onto her chest. There, it began to take on a shape that was abstract but looked much like a flower, just like Ket's trunks, only girly. The coloring also spilled down the side, and protruded like leaves into the dark blue. She turned again so he could see the backside. It was almost a mirror-image of the front, except that the colors were reversed.

He smiled. "That looks really nice," he said genuinely.

She turned back a little slowly. "Nice?" She asked.

"Yeah," he said, standing up, "I like the design."

"Just...nice?" She asked.

"...huh?" The hairs on his neck perked up a little.

Her whiskers wilted. "Not beautiful? Or gorgeous, or hot, or...sexy, or even great? Just...'nice'?"

He shook his head. "Well, no, of course you look...hot," he corrected quietly, "It's just--"

"Then why didn't you say that?"

He froze, the question not computing.

She shook her head, jabbing him, "Forget it," she whispered, "they're coming out."

"Oh-kay!" Momma B. said, stepping through the open doorway. "Are we all ready?"

"Ket, did you get sunscreen?" Momma R. asked.

"No, not yet," he replied.

She reached into her bag and pulled it out, giving it to him with a thanks in response.

They got other things ready as he sprayed a dollop of foam on his hands and rubbed it into his fur. Towels were passed out, as were water bottles, and even while he still applied the sunscreen to his legs, ankles and face, they walked down toward the constantly shifting edge of the ocean.

"Can you get my back?" He asked his mom, but the can was taken from him.

"I'll get it," Emeral said casually, spraying the foam on her palm before anyone could object. He felt extremely nervous as her hands rubbed over him, massaging the foam, while his mom was only a few feet away, setting her towel on the blazing white sand.

"I think you look hot."

The whisper caught him off guard, and more of his nerves quivered all up his spine, from both embarrassment and from how terse she sounded. Her hands disappeared and she capped the sunscreen bottle with a snap.

"Thanks," he said, his voice a little sandy, like his feet.

"Okay, so..." Momma B. said, gazing out at the beach population. "Here are some rules..."

Emeral huffed.

"You can't go anywhere alone, you two have to stay together. You also have to stay where we can see you, no wandering off."

"So in other words, we can't have any fun?"

"There's a lot of people here, Emmy, some of them might be out to get you."

Emeral couldn't help but feel a mix of embarrassed and a little angry. Her mom was always looking at the grim side of things like that; maybe it was because she was an ER nurse, and she saw a lot of grim things, but still. She didn't have to carry it over like that.

"Don't worry," Ket reassured, "We'll be safe."

"I know I can count on you," Emeral's mom responded.

Her daughter shot a glare, "What's that supposta mean?"

"Nothing," Momma B. replied; "Ket is just older so I would expect him to be a little more responsible."

"I'm responsible, too," she protested, and then glared at her friend; "And you're only older by a year so stop trying to one-up me."

"But I wasn't--"

"Come on," she said, "Let's just go."

With an eye-roll Ket followed his agitated girlfriend toward the water. As they approached the wide area where the edge of the ocean lapped upon the wet, compacted sand, he began to understand what the sci-fi genre referred to as "high particle-density". With each step toward the ocean it felt like his matter was having to force aside an invisible wall of plasma. If he wasn't careful he could disrupt the laws of physics, a part of his body would try to fuse with the air-particles, and the entire universe would be torn apart like faulty plastic grocery bag.

The sand felt much warmer under his feet than he expected. It was still relatively early, maybe even just now turning noon, but the sand beneath his feet felt as hot as late afternoon. It almost burned, but rather quickly a layer was adhering to his pads and protecting him from the brunt of it.

Several yards away from the actual area they were heading for, there was a band of dark-brown stuff on the shore. It was in a rather straight and almost perfect line from left to right, like a machine had come and set it all out that way. It was brambly and wiry, like the world's longest extension cord, all tangled and daisy-chained.

As they passed, Ket stopped to pick some of it up. As soon as he did, he regretted it. A distinct smell hit him. Actually, he had smelled it the whole time, he had just gotten used to it, but this stuff was its origin, and so it was the highest concentration of the smell, and renewed a barrage on his nose.

Once, a few years back, he had gotten very sick with strep throat. He had a fever and felt more miserable than ever. At one point, he up-chucked so forcefully it made blood-vessels on his eyeballs burst, and worse some of it went up the back of his throat and dripped out his nose. The smell stayed with him for several hours.

That was what this stuff smelled like.

"Ugh, gross, you're touching it," Emeral yacked. "Put it down!"

He dropped it. "What the heck is this stuff?"

"It's rotting seaweed," she said. "You're not supposed to touch it."

"Well I didn't know!" He protested, wiping his hand in the dirt to try to get the smell off of it. "Besides if it comes from the ocean and we're about to jump in there, what difference does touching it out here make? We're about to go swimming in it."

Emeral squinted an eye. "You're not making this very fun," she stated.

"Sorry," he grumbled. "C'mon, let's just go in the water. I've been waiting to go in since yesterday."

She smiled, "I have too! My boyfriend's first time in the waves and I get to share it with him." She took his hand.

"Hey whaddaya doing?" He questioned, trying to pull his hand away.

"What do you mean?" She responded, latching him in her grip again.

"Our mom's are watching us ya know," he stated, glancing back.

"Ugh," she tugged him, "They're not gonna say anything about us holding hands. They told us to stay together, remember?"

Acquiescing, he jogged with her to the shore.

There were dozens of other people on the beach, most of them older than they, all of them at least teenagers. There were probably some kids their age but they were few and far between. The teenagers were all shouting and boasting, hooting and hollering and being all kinds of loud and obnoxious.

Ket felt the change in the sand's particle-density as well. The loose, dusty sand that kicked up a little as he strode, and gave way with ease under his feet,began to feel stiff and more solid. Eventually, he felt like he was running on ground as solid as tile. His feet clapped and clopped in the sand like he was walking on the world's biggest batch of oobleck, leaving shallow footprints in his wake.

The sound of the waves was much more prominent. Earlier, it had been almost like the rush of very fast winds, but now he could hear the bubbling and rushing of the water as it churned and carried forth with heavy momentum. He witnessed the wave crash several feet from the shore, and the water rushed up toward them, thinning out rather quickly.

His feet were enveloped up to just above his ankles with fizzy and bubbly foam, like the sea was a bottle of shaken soda that just exploded all over the earth. But what was most striking was how warm the water felt. It was almost as warm as water he would use to take a shower.

It crashed against his legs quickly, and he began to struggle to slosh through it, dragging his feet. This was the opposite of ice-skating. He immediately lifted his knees a little higher, as did Emeral, so that he could walk more easily, but that would not last long as they were beginning to get deeper rather quickly.

Even as they were getting farther the water began to recede and eventually they were on practically the same ground they were a moment ago. The edge of the water coiled up before them like a spring, the next wave rolling forward toward them, breaking several yards away still. A second later the water crashed against them.

Ket had to flex his calves to resist the force; it rose and rose and rose until it hit his knees. They were forced to wade through the water, and this time he felt cold. No, he felt both; as his stomach submerged his belly-button felt warm while his calves and ankles felt chilled. The mix of temperature sent a confusing shiver across his limbs.

The water pulled away again, and abruptly he was tugged forward from the front and pushed forward from the back. Were it not for Emeral's hand he may have been pulled far into the depths, at the mercy of the sudden, unexpected force of the water.

She braced him, her grip strong and gentle, a feeling he was very used to given the Jiu-Jitsu lessons. He regained his footing quickly and breathed in, his stomach now feeling the cold and the water rising up to his chin.

"It's f-f-f-freezing," he said.

"Y-y-y-yeah," she replied, "It d-d-does that, it's really w-w-weird."

Around them, the teenagers still shouted. They were all over in the water, fighting waves. The girls wooooed at the boys who stood with machismo, shouting at the waves like they were football players, taunting the ocean and challenging it to drown them. The next wave threw its force upon them, and they would rise up with it, letting the white foam of the crest crash onto their torsos, and when it passed they shook the water off their faces and shouted with triumph. "Yeah!!!"

The water began to push them back, and Ket reached with his foot to find the ground. It touched, and then suddenly he felt like he was going to get sucked in. The sand began to swallow him, pulling his leg down. He coughed and pushed with his arms, his body being tugged forward once again, but his foot keeping him still.

Emeral pulled him, fighting to stay where she was, noticing that he got stuck.

Ket wriggled his legs, both feet now trapped in the quagmire; he wriggled and writhed, and when the water shifted from pulling him forward to pushing him back, he managed to wry his limbs free and they floated with the momentum of the sea until they had a solid footing once again.

"You okay?" Emeral asked with a labored voice.

"Yeah," he replied, equally tired, "The sand is really loose."

"Yeah, you can't put too much weight on it."

Tentatively he put his foot on the sand, found it to be sturdy enough, and let his feet sink in to the ankles. The wave pulled him forward once again, exposing his neck and chest to the cold air. It was so strange; in order to stay upright he had to constantly fight with the water. It pulled and pushed unevenly all over his body, especially since it was always changing levels on him. He had to flex almost every muscle in his body, each one in a different way and with constantly changing amounts of strength.

He was getting tired really fast.

"Do you think we can go out any further?" Emeral asked with a loud voice.

He was tired, but he didn't want to quit just yet. "Sure," he reaffirmed the grip of their hands. "Let's try to get to where the waves are!"

They waited for the force of the ocean to be in their favor, and then made a mad swim. The undulating surface of the green water, warm now that their lower sections weren't in the cold spot, spat and plopped in their faces every other second. The water pushed them back, and they fought to stay where they were, without any ground to fall back on for support.

It shifted in their favor again, and they got as far as they could, hoping to get the chance to feel a wave very soon. The water began to push them back; they fought. Suddenly, a ways in the distance, they saw the wave coil up, rising like a stampede of deer running across the surface of a hillock. It rolled forward with unexpected speed, and before either of them knew it a white wall of foam and salt crashed into their faces, swallowing them like Monstro to the boat.