{"sf1_id":null,"sf2_id":"n6Jbdp6n","title":"The Observer Effect - Act 1 Part 1","author":"CilDem","words":12421,"posted_at":"2026-06-29T07:12:53.000Z","tags":["Astronomy","Beach","Dragon","Dragoness","Drama","Fantasy","Feral","Human","Interspecies","Introspective","Modern","Music","Non-Anthro","Romance","Slice of life","Straight"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/n6Jbdp6n-the-observer-effect-act-1-part-1","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/n6Jbdp6n","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/a8/af/a8af3fdb-93d8-419b-80a9-cd9402d1a548","description":"This story is focused on a guy named Marco and a dragoness named Catalina. They play eye tag for a whole the day before college classes start. Who knows what will happen 👀.  \n  \n This it the kind of prologue to this story. It's more of a pilot, but equally as necessary to the story. Kinda.  \n  \n Yo, what's up. We writing a book. Interact with it or something if you like it. I'm testing the waters to see if the people would like a romance like this. If you do, get me to like 10 likes or something and I'll try to pick up the pace. Also, every chapter is associated with a song. You don't have to listen to them, but it would be cool if you did. Ch.1 - The Worst Guys by Childish Gambino. Ch.2 - Chapter Six by Kendrick Lamar. Ch.3 A Tale Of 2 Citiez by J.Cole. It will get important later in the story, so start now maybe?","content":"The morning found Marco before Marco even had the chance to find himself.\n\nSunlight had already crossed the floor, conquered the walls, and was making its way toward his face. The light continually slipped over a pair of beat-up Vans before reaching the edge of an unmade bed. Somewhere near the window, his speaker was still playing music. Low. Mellow. Something R\u0026B enough to make the room feel deeper than it actually was.  \n  \nThe dorm smelled like coffee grounds, detergent, a hint of bad decisions, and an ocean breeze drifting through a crack in the window.  \n  \n**Ch.1 - The Worst Guys**  \n  \nMarco slowly creaked an eye open. The other followed close behind. He stayed still for a second, letting his brain turn back on piece by piece. Only then did he notice the breathing behind him.  \n  \nHe carefully turned to his side. Jasmine had stolen his pillow sometime during the night and was now hugging it like it wasn’t his. Half of her curls covered her face. One arm was tucked beneath the pillow, the other wrapped around it tight enough that Marco wasn’t completely sure he could win it back without a court order.  \n  \nHe stared at her for a second. She slept peacefully. Good for her.\n\nMarco turned back toward the ceiling. His thoughts slowly sorted themselves. Jasmine shifted beside him.  \n  \nTime to escape.  \n  \nHe eased himself out of bed one inch at a time. The mattress creaked. As Jasmine shifted again, Marco froze. Jasmine murmured something in her sleep. He waited. Nothing moved. Sweet.\n\nHe moved again, slower this time. One leg out. The other followed. The blanket tried to catch around his ankle at the last second. Nice try. That trick had worked way too many times before.\n\nWith one final creak, the bed released him. Finally free.  \n  \nMarco stood there for half a second, shirtless, barefoot, squinting at his own room. His room looked like somebody had robbed a laundromat, panicked halfway through, and left plastic water bottles as evidence.  \n  \nClothes were everywhere. Bottles were everywhere. His basketball was somehow hiding near his guitar.  \n  \n“Great… I really, really don't want to clean right now.”  \n  \nHis hands started grabbing clothes anyway.  \n  \nHe grabbed a hoodie. Hamper. He grabbed a soccer jersey. Hamper. He grabbed some drawstring shorts. Missed. Good enough. Jasmine’s clothes… Those he set neatly on the edge of the bed.\u0026nbsp;\n\nEventually, most of the floor felt normal again. Except for the clothes that missed the hamper, which were sitting there looking stupid.  \n  \nMarco stared at them. They stared back with animosity.  \n  \nWith a sigh, he defeatedly walked over to pick up his failed attempts of greatness. He picked them up too. For real now, the floor was clean.  \n  \nNext came the desk.  \n  \nEmpty water bottles. Sticky notes. A sketchbook covered in stickers of constellations. His astronomy textbook sat open beneath everything, pages marked up with notes that had started organized and slowly turned into some kind of ancient language only he could read.  \n  \nHe brushed his fingers over the sketchbook. Instead, he grabbed a bottle.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCrunch.  \n  \nJasmine shifted. Marco froze… Nothing. Crunch. Still nothing. “...Last one,” he whispered.  \n  \nCruuuuuuunch.  \n  \nMarco glanced back again…  \n  \nNo change.  \n  \nSweet.  \n  \nThe bottles went into the trash. The stickies stayed. Procrastinating was easier when color-coded.  \n  \nMarco crossed to the closet. Soccer jerseys. Graphic tees. Drawstring shorts. That was pretty much it.  \n  \nHe pulled out a white Inter Miami jersey, one of the cleanest ones; grabbed black cotton shorts; and put on his white Adidas shoes. Instead of getting dressed, he folded everything over the chair.  \n  \nBelow, near the edge of his bed, his skateboard peeked out. He walked over and nudged it slightly. It disappeared into the dark. Now, the room was looking… Alright.  \n  \nHe went back to his desk for his phone. His elbow knocked the sketchbook straight off the edge because the stars had apparently enjoyed comedy, which was news to him.  \n  \nThe pages flapped open before they hit the floor with a thud. Marco stared down. The summer night sky stared back.\n\nHe stared at the floor for a moment. His gaze drifted back to Jasmine. Her face kept that same soft expression as before.  \n  \nHe crouched, picked up the sketchbook, and studied the drawing for a second. Marco’s eyes met with the sketched Hercules. A small smile tugged at his face.\n\n“Not bad… but you’re still crooked as hell.”  \n  \nHercules played the silent game. As usual.\n\nMarco closed the sketchbook and put it back on the desk. He grabbed his phone off the charger and crept out of the bedroom.  \n  \nThe living room air conditioning hit his bare chest immediately. A chill ran down his spine as he crossed into the kitchen. If it could even be called a kitchen, there wasn’t even a microwave! So basically, a kitchen with prejudice.\n\nHis bare feet touched cold tile, and he almost turned around right there. Though he was starving, the winner was decided before the challenge even happened. Marco opened the fridge. Cold air rolled out like the place had been hiding Antarctica behind the door. His shivering hands grabbed a carton of eggs and butter and quickly left the below-zero environment for the less chilly, but still kind of cold, kitchen.\n\nHe set both on the counter, then crouched to grab a pan from the cabinet. A sticky note waited inside. He leaned in to read closely.  \n  \n“Buy tortillas.”  \n  \nMarco stared at it. “Oh. Yeah. I should do that.” The thought left his brain instantly when he grabbed the pan.  \n  \nAbove him, another sticky note clung to the cabinet. It read…  \n  \nCall mom.  \n  \nHe stared at it for a couple seconds before pulling it free. His thumb rested on the note. Later, he thought.  \n  \nMarco folded it once and slipped it into his pocket. The note lingered in his mind a moment too long.  \n  \nHe grabbed a whisk, a spatula, and a mixing bowl. Salt. Pepper. No cheese. No ham. No peppers. Nothing exciting. Broke people omelette is still an omelette. Appreciate the craft.  \n  \nHe cracked the first egg into the bowl. Crack! Clean. Second egg. Crack! Also clean. Two for two. Gordon Ramsay would probably still call him an idiot, but statistically, this was going great.\n\nMarco whisked until the yolks turned smooth. Added salt and pepper. Set the pan on the stove. Butter melted slowly and began bubbling at the edges.\n\nThat was his cue. The eggs hit the pan with a soft hiss.\n\nAbsolutely spectacular.\n\nMarco tilted the pan, guiding the liquid toward the edges with the spatula. The yellow sea shifted. The spatula defended the border. Civilization rose from chaos. Soon, the liquid became solid. Peace returned to the kingdom! A golden age was born—  \n  \n“Mmm… Marco?” A voice echoed from behind.  \n  \nMarco sighed. The kingdom collapsed.\n\nHe turned. His eyes met a figure wrapped in a blanket, a hand rubbing an eye, and messy, curly hair. She had sat up in his bed and was now looking toward the kitchen. She looked half asleep and completely confused.  \n  \n“Morning sunshine,” Marco said, amused at the sight.  \n  \n“...Is someone cooking?”  \n  \nMarco’s eyes returned to the pan.  \n  \n“I sure hope so. I'm soooooo hungry. \" The spatula resumed moving.  \n  \n“...”  \n  \n“Marco…”  \n  \nHis eyes stayed focused on the pan. “Yeah? What’s up?”  \n  \n“You’re the only other person here.”  \n  \nThe spatula paused. A second later it resumed. “Oh,” a smile crept across Marco’s face. “Then yeah.”  \n  \nA minute later, Jasmine sat across from him at the tiny dining table that was really just a table pretending to have purpose. Two very simple omelettes. Two plates. No forks that matched. The good life.  \n  \nMarco slid into the “dining room” chair, opposite of Jasmine.  \n  \nJasmine stared down at the food. “So you cook?”  \n  \nMarco pointed his fork at her. “Since I was a kid. It’s just something I know how to do.”  \n  \nJasmine paused for a fraction of a second, trying to read his expression. Marco ignored it and dug into his omelette.  \n  \n“Are… Are you trying to impress me?”  \n  \nA small chuckle escaped Marco. He shook his head. “Nah.”  \n  \n“Good.” Jasmine continued into her food.  \n  \nMarco stayed focused on his food. “I mean, why would I?” He stabbed a piece of omelette. “We literally just slept together.”  \n  \nJasmine let out a small smile. “Fair enough.”\n\nThey ate. Forks scrapped against plates. Small talk happened every so often, not romantic, not awkward, and only until both plates were picked clean. Marco stood up and collected the dishes. Jasmine continued to ask questions.  \n  \n“You cook for everybody?”  \n  \nMarco made his way to the kitchen. “Only people I accidentally let stay the night.”  \n  \n“...Accidentally?”  \n  \n“I mean, you kinda invited yourself,” Marco said as he set the dishes into the sink.  \n  \nJasmine rolled her eyes. “You are such a liar.”  \n  \nMarco smiled softly. “Little bit.”  \n  \nSilence settled over the tiny room, and Marco’s eyes found the window. Outside, the city was already bright. Already loud. Already moving. The ocean breeze pushed lightly against the glass like it wanted to join the conversation. His gaze settled there for a long while, long enough for Jasmine to notice.  \n  \n“Uhh… You good?”  \n  \nMarco’s eyes stayed fixed onto the glass. “I’m chilling.”  \n  \n“...” Jasmine studied him a moment longer, then continued.  \n  \n“That’s not what I asked.”  \n  \nMarco smiled again before breaking his gaze from the window. He turned back to her, the smile sharpening just enough to become useful.  \n  \n“What time is it?”  \n  \nJasmine paused, reached for her phone, and froze completely. It was 7:50. She had work.  \n  \nShe shot out of the chair so fast it almost tipped over.  \n  \nMarco leaned against the sink, completely victorious, as Jasmine scrambled around the room for her clothes. Shirt. Shoes. Phone. Bag. One earring that had somehow ended up under the table. In just a minute, Jasmine had all of her clothes on and was walking toward the door. She cracked the door open and paused.  \n  \n“You know…” she said, looking back at him. “You’re not as much of an asshole as people say you are.”  \n  \nMarco crossed his arms. “Don’t go and ruin my reputation.”  \n  \nJasmine shook her head, smiling, and closed the door behind her.  \n  \nMarco stared at it for a couple seconds.  \n  \nNo. He decided to do something with his day. Classes haven't started yet. His dorm mate would move in tomorrow. Jasmine was gone. The dishes were in the sink, pretending they weren’t his problem. Perfect time to leave.  \n  \nMarco went back to his room, grabbed the outfit waiting on the chair, and got dressed. White jersey. Black shorts. White Adidas.\u0026nbsp;\n\nHe hit the bathroom next. A toothbrush, a razor, deodorant, and a comb all greeted him in front of the sink. The big four. He freshened up, splashed water through his curls, and gave the mirror a quick look. His right ear caught the light where the small earring sat.\n\nMarco reached for his phone once more, then his earbuds and his wallet. Finally, he pulled out his skateboard from below his bed.  \n  \nThe board rolled against the floor like it had been waiting all morning. Marco smiled at it.\n\n“Yeah, yeah. I’m coming.”\n\n* * *\n\nClack!  \n  \nThe wheels hit the pavement with a familiar sound. Marco pushed once. Twice. The hill did the rest. Cool, salty air was pushed past his face and raced behind. The music in his earbuds mixed with everything else the city had already been awake long enough to make. Construction could be heard somewhere in the distance, gulls arguing overhead, and somebody laughing loud enough that everyone in the dorms probably heard it.  \n  \nUCSH always seemed so much different the week before classes began. So empty… No. More like half-finished, maybe. Parents helped carry boxes past Marco, toward the dorm buildings. Freshmen walked around campus like they knew where they were going. Upperclassmen walked like they owned the sidewalks. Someone had already claimed the grass outside the student union with a hammock.  \n  \nA moving truck stood parked on the curb, just outside the main hall. Its back was wide open. Two human parents struggled to carry a minifridge to the entrance. Beside the two, a velvet dragon barely older than Marco balanced three mattresses on his back like they weighed less than a feather. One of the parents looked exhausted. The dragon just looked annoyed.  \n  \nMarco continued skating down the campus and suddenly came to a stop. A construction crew had blocked off part of the sidewalk. Fresh concrete spread across the path beneath the sign that read:  \n  \nDRAGON CROSSING CLOSED  \n  \nA worker waved two dragons toward a temporary ramp. One complained anyway.  \n  \nMarco stepped on the back of his skateboard, popped it up, grabbed it, and walked towards the road out of campus.  \n  \nAlong the side of the road, a food truck was stopped and open for business. The aroma instantly captivated Marco. Dragons and humans both ate these tacos. They were basically world-famous.  \n  \nHe stopped, contemplating if it was worth the money. He checked his wallet and was met with twenty dollars and an expired gift card.  \n  \nMarco glanced toward the food truck. Back to his sad wallet. Food truck. Wallet. The wallet snapped closed. It wasn’t a good idea. It wasn’t worth it. There would certainly be other moments to have tacos.  \n  \nMarco walked past the food truck, to his disappointment, and threw his skateboard to the floor once more.  \n  \nClack!  \n  \nThe board hit the pavement, and Marco was moving again. The salty breeze whizzed past, and he took a moment to take it all in. The music that flooded his ears, the commotion of a new year at university, and the sound of people playing basketball.  \n  \n\"...?\"  \n  \nMarco stopped once again and took out one of his earbuds. Someone was calling his name.  \n  \n“Marco!”  \n  \nHe glanced over to his right; a bunch of friends from his freshman year were running ones with each other. One of them, nicknamed Tank, cause he’s an actual giant, was calling out to him.  \n  \n“Wanna join real quick?”  \n  \nA smile appeared quickly across his face.  \n  \n“Only if you wanna lose.”  \n  \nTank snickered. “Yeah right, bro. C’mon, run the ones with me.”  \n  \n“Aight then.”  \n  \nMarco picked up his skateboard and made his way to the courts.  \n  \n\"Alright, Tank, how we doing this?”  \n  \n“To eleven. Ones and twos. Loser’s ball.”  \n  \n“Check.”  \n  \n“Loser buys the other a Gatorade.\"  \n  \nMarco grinned. “Dude… I’m so broke.”  \n  \nTank grinned in response. “Me too. That's why we're doing this.”  \n  \nTank started with the ball. He absolutely backed Marco down. Shoulder. Another. An easy layup.  \n  \n1-0  \n  \n“Holy shit, dude, do you eat bricks for breakfast?\"  \n  \nTank spun the ball in his hands and smiled toward Marco. “Only on weekends.”  \n  \nThe ball was now in Marco’s hands. He checked the ball and got to work. A little hezi for Tank to bite on. A swift crossover. A tween. A quickstep. Tank reached, and Marco blew right past, hitting a reverse layup.  \n  \n1-1  \n  \n“Oooh!” a few bystanders exclaimed. Nothing insane though.  \n  \nTank’s ball. He went for the same maneuver, but Marco was ready for it. Marco reached just as the ball hit the concrete and stole it. Marco dribbled back toward the three-point line and went for the shot… Just for it to be sent into the stratosphere by Tank. Absolutely denied.  \n  \nMarco chuckled as the ball disappeared over the fence. “Yeah… I deserved that.”  \n  \nSweat slowly replaced the ocean breeze as buckets were traded back and forth.  \n  \n“Five-Four.”  \n  \n“Are you serious, Tank? That was totally a travel?”  \n  \n“It totally wasn’t. It’s called a delayed gather step, dipshit.”  \n  \n“Fine. It doesn’t even matter. Watch this.”  \n  \nThe scores slowly grew in number. It was 5-5, 5-7, 9-8. Before either knew it, match point had arrived. The score was 10-9, Tank in the lead. Marco’s ball.  \n  \nMarco went for one last move. A hezi. A crossover, which got Tank leaning. A step back. A pull-up jumper. Time moved slowly, the release was perfect, and the arc seemed immaculate. A couple people in the crowd shouted. Marco could imagine the sound of the swish. Then…\n\nIt hit the back rim.\u0026nbsp;\n\nDONGGGGG! The sound was deafening. Everyone looked toward the sky as the ball popped up, and it flew right down into Tank’s hands. He took his chance and scored the easiest layup of his life. Marco was still looking at the sky when Tank scored.  \n  \n“Eleven. That’s game.”  \n  \nMarco paused. He stared toward Tank.  \n  \n“...Run it back.”  \n  \nTank laughed. Hard. Marco stood there with a fire no other could extinguish. He was out for blood.\u0026nbsp;\n\nTank slowly stopped laughing; wiping a tear from his eye, he responded. “Nah. I got work in a little bit.”  \n  \nMarco folded his arms. “Don’t be like that.”  \n  \nTank laid a hand on Marco’s shoulder and patted his back with an endearing smile on his face. “Scoreboard buddy.” Then he walked away.\n\nMarco was left in the middle of the court, the ball rolling to his feet. The few people watching lost it. Despite the situation, Marco couldn’t help but smile.\n\n“Nah, I'm ready now,” Marco exclaimed. He turned to face the crowd and shouted. “Who got next?\"\n\nMarco played ball for an hour or two more; he was joking, and laughing, and especially talking shit. Marco won a match. Lost the next. Won one. Lost another. Yet no matter the outcome, Marco always smiled.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“I’ll see you guys later!” A sweaty Marco shouted to the court; everyone waved him off. The familiar clack greeted his ears along with a song by Childish Gambino.\n\nThe wind ran along his body. A bus station whizzed by. A human was sitting on his phone, while two older dragons beside joked and laughed. The sight brought a smile to Marco’s face before he took a turn.\n\nBuildings started to grow taller as Marco entered deeper into the city. Another turn approached, and the ocean breeze blew into his face. He shielded his eyes for a moment, stopped, and lowered his hand to look at the horizon.\n\nThe sun reflected onto the dark blue water. It was as if the ocean had stars of its own, shimmering for the city of Santa Hidalgo to see.\n\nWaves rolled back and forth along the sandy shore. The crashes echoed throughout the beach. The sound of seagulls' cries and people talking accompanied the sound. The salty breeze continued to travel past Marco.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe beach bustled with life. Along the sand, a group of humans played a game of spikeball. Next to them, a dragon poured sunscreen upon a human's back. Just past, two dragons surfed along the water. No matter how many times he saw it, the sight would always be ridiculous. He still never understood how they did it.\n\nThe skateboard resumed its rolling as Marco pushed against the pavement. The city continued to move against him. The clacks of the grooves began to sync to the music that blasted in his ears. It was at the point where he didn’t know whether he was nodding to the song or the sidewalk.\n\nMarco rode around the city for a while longer before making his approach to the record store. The skateboard came to a halt as Marco’s foot met the ground.\n\nHis foot kicked the back down as the front came flying up; he caught it with practiced precision. Smooth.\n\nThe board was promptly tucked under his arm as he reached for the comically large handle that accompanied an equally as comical, large door. The door barely budged as he pulled, no matter how much power he put into it.\n\nThe more effort he put into opening the door, the more the sense of feeling incredibly stupid grew along with it. Eventually, he noticed a paper that read something:\n\nCLOSED FOR RECONSTRUCTION\n\n“…Are you kidding me!”\n\nMarco stood staring at the sign for a long moment and threw his skateboard back on the pavement. With just enough force that the clack was much louder than usual. His foot rested on the board as he checked his phone. Not a single notification.\n\nIt was as if nothing wanted to work in his favor today.\n\nTank just had to run away like a coward, and I’m going broke. Since when were tacos so expensive anyway?\u0026nbsp;\n\nMarco glanced up from his phone, ready to complain to absolutely nobody but himself, when something moved effortlessly across his vision. A dragon was walking toward the beach.\n\nThis one hadn’t been particularly special; dragons weren’t really rare in Santa Hidalgo. They all enjoyed the shore, complained about construction, and got in people’s ways on sidewalks. Stuff like that. Though this dragon, she had Marco’s thoughts stuttering for half a second.\n\nHer scales reflected a light lavender, not quite pink, not purple either. Like someone had taken the color of clouds in a sunset and turned down the saturation. Gold rings hung from both ears, catching the sunlight with every movement of her head. A burlap satchel rested across her body, bouncing gently with each step she took. She looked no older than he did. Maybe twenty?\n\nBut yeah, she was huge! Well, like dragon huge. 8 feet at the shoulders maybe. Her neck curved into a lazy S so her head rested higher than the record store door. Though she didn’t move like something huge. She moved like the city made room for her before she even got there.\n\nPassers by shifted around her without really thinking about it. A guy with a surfboard stepped aside. A woman pushing a stroller slowed down. Freshmen stopped talking mid-sentence, watched her pass, then pretended like they hadn’t.\n\nMarco noticed all of it. Immediately noticed himself noticing.\u0026nbsp;\n\nHuh… Pretty dragon.\n\n…\n\n…What?\n\nMarco’s brain froze for a heartbeat; the weird, unwelcome thought floated around in his head. Not wrong, particularly, just kind of a weird thing to think. Like thinking a trash can was cute…\n\n…Damn. That was fucked.\n\nThe dragon glanced toward the record store. She found Marco. Their eyes met. The music in Marco’s ears continued to sing. No wave crashed at the perfect time. Nobody dropped a drink in slow motion. She had stopped in her tracks and stared at him. He stared back just as intently, for some weird reason.\u0026nbsp;\n\nIt continued for one second. Two. Three. One too many seconds for Marco.\n\nThough he didn’t know if it was just him, her scales felt familiar. He had never seen her before. But he wondered for a moment if he had.\n\nThis whole time, the staring contest continued. He should have looked away. That was the normal thing to do. Normal people ended eye contact the moment it became weird. Though he was the one standing outside a closed record store, sweating through his jersey, a leg resting on a skateboard, staring at a dragon that seemed as if she didn’t fully understand how sidewalks worked.\u0026nbsp;\n\nSo he looked away. Very casual. So smooth.\n\nHe checked his phone again, even though absolutely nothing had changed. Still no messages. So he decided to check the weather app.\u0026nbsp;\n\n85 degrees Fahrenheit. That’s crazy! It’s not like he was outside to feel it.\n\nMarco glanced up from his phone; the dragon had continued its stroll toward the beach, no longer looking at him. Good. That was over.\n\nThe phone returned to his pocket, and his foot pushed off the ground. The wheels caught the groove between two slabs of sidewalk, and that almost threw him into the pavement.\n\n\"Shit—\"\n\nAt the very last moment, he caught himself. One hand hit the concrete, and his legs spread outward like the accident was on purpose.\n\nA couple walking stared at him. Marco nodded once.\n\n“Street performance… Got any money?” He tried to smile convincingly.\n\nThey kept walking.\n\nHe lifted himself onto his feet and pushed off the pavement once again. This time with a lot less dignity and a lot more caution. A few strokes passed when Marco turned his head to look at the dragon one last time. The dragon was looking right at him as well.\n\nTheir eyes caught each other, and both immediately turned away. Marco faced forward, lips pressed together like it would hide the grin, and continued to push off the sidewalk.\n\n“What the hell was that?” He muttered as music softly returned to his ears.\n\nThe skateboard rolled beneath him, the ocean glittered to his left, and somewhere behind him, the dragon kept walking towards the water like she hadn’t just ruined Marco’s ability to act smooth for five whole seconds.\n\n**Ch.2 - Chapter Six**\n\nThe apartment awoke quietly. Never on its own. Catalina made sure of that.\n\nA window slid open. Another followed. The balcony door opened last. Cool ocean air wandered inside like it had an invitation, carrying the smell of salt and sunscreen. A scent that never seemed to leave Santa Hidalgo.\n\nShe stood there for a couple of minutes, head hovering over the railing, with her eyes closed. One slow breath in. One slow breath out.\u0026nbsp;\n\nMuch better.\n\nThe room always felt instantly happier the moment the breeze came inside. Or maybe she did. Sometimes it was hard to tell the difference.\n\nA familiar cry echoed from outside. Catalina chuckled before she even looked.\n\n“You again?”\n\nThe seagull cocked its head. Waiting. Catalina laughed softly in response.\n\n“You’re so spoiled.”\n\nThe bird blinked. She sighed dramatically while grabbing a bag of crackers she kept by the door.\n\n“…You’re lucky you’re so cute.”\n\nHalf a cracker landed on the floor. The seagull accepted its payment without so much as a thank you. She smiled at the bird as it flew away into the horizon.\n\n“Rude.”\n\nCatalina turned her neck; the blanket on the couch wasn’t folded, one corner of the rug had curled upward, and a plant leaned slightly toward the window.\n\nFive minutes later… Everything was exactly where it belonged. Only then did she head toward her bedroom.\n\nShe reached for her satchel to grab her iPad. Instead… She reached for her cabinet.\n\n“…”\n\nSlowly, she opened it. An army of Hello Kitty plushies and collectibles stared back at her. Some sat. Some waved. One wore a tiny astronaut helmet. Catalina smiled despite herself.\n\n“I know.”\n\nShe wasn’t talking to anyone.\n\n“…It’s embarrassing.”\n\nThe plushies sat there, unconcerned with her confession.\n\nShe gently nudged one that had turned sideways.\n\n“There.”\n\nShe closed the cabinet and immediately turned over her shoulder. Empty room. A smile creeped across her face. No one needed to know.\n\nCatalina made her way toward the kitchen. A sleek white color scheme with a black fridge. The tablet was held tightly by her tail as her paw wrapped around the fridge. The chill air faded as quickly as it came, and a carton of strawberries was placed on the counter.\n\nA knife and a cutting board were fetched with her long appendage as her digits tapped on the screen. A psychology podcast filled the room as the knife was handed to her paw by her tail.\n\nThe podcast echoed through the room as chops cut in every so often. Catalina had lifted herself onto her hind legs, supported by her front, when a slow shuffle came from the hallway. One step. Pause. Another step.\n\nShe smiled before looking up. Sofia’s claws dragged on the floor, her left wing hung lower than usual, and her eyes hadn’t fully opened yet. Bad sleep.\n\nBy the time Sofia had appeared in the kitchen, Catalina already knew what she wanted to ask.\n\n“Nightmare?”\n\nSofia stopped walking. “What?”\n\n“Did you have a nightmare?”\n\n“…How did you know I had one?”\n\nChop. Catalina froze. She didn’t actually mean to say it out loud.\n\n“I—”\n\nHer eyes dropped to the cutting board.\n\n“Lucky guess.”\n\nIt wasn’t.\n\nSofia’s black scales glowed slightly as she gazed at the beach from the balcony. Seagulls cried overhead, and the ocean breeze continued to enter the apartment.\n\nCatalina continued listening to her podcast and cutting fruit. A ding interrupted her session. A message had popped up from her brother.\n\nMatty Bro\n\n\\\u003c gl with another year of college mom and dad wish well \\\u003c3\n\nCatalina switched the knife from her paw to her tail as she shifted along the counter to her tablet. Her digits pressed against the screen once more.\n\npreciate it kid see you in a couple months \\\u003c3 \\\u003e\n\nThe podcast returned playing as the tablet was set down. The tail had finished the remaining cutting and scraped the strawberries into a bowl. The fruit rested calmly, just waiting to be devoured.\n\nSofia quietly wandered over to the counter, eyes lingering on the bowl.\n\n“How do you make sliced strawberries look so appetizing?”\n\nCatalina glanced up from the bowl and gave a little shrug. “I just cut them.”\n\nSofia looked entirely unconvinced. “You literally sliced every single one into the exact same size, even the big ones.”\n\n“…Does that even matter?”\n\nSofia reached a paw into the bowl anyway. “It matters enough that I noticed.” She popped one in her mouth and continued while chewing. “I took one.”\n\nCatalina's tail flicked and nudged the bowl towards her. “Those are for the both of us. But did you have to take the biggest one?”\u0026nbsp;\n\nSofia chewed thoughtfully. “They’re all the same size though.”\n\n“But that was the biggest of the same-sized ones.” Catalina reached a paw and dug into the bowl.\n\n“…Guess you’re right.” Sofia went in for another big slice. Catalina watched as she threw it into her mouth. She lost the fight with a smile.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“You’re the worst.”\n\nSofia chuckled slightly. “I know.”\n\nThe podcast continued murmuring in the background. “People often mistake confidence for certainty…”\n\nCatalina reached and turned the volume down just a little. Sofia commented on her listening choices. “You actually listen to those?”\n\nShe responded with a nod. “Just staying ahead of the game.”\n\nSofia stared as Catalina strolled across the kitchen toward the pantry. “Do they not make you overthink everything?”\n\nCatalina shrugged as she reached for two slices of bread. “I already do.”\n\n“Fair enough then.”\n\nThe toaster clicked as the bread disappeared inside.\u0026nbsp;\n\nFor that moment, the apartment fell into a comfortable silence. The kind where neither rushed to fill it.\n\nSofia lifted herself to lean on the counter, absentmindedly scratching her horns as she spoke.\n\n“Sooo…” Catalina glanced over. “You excited for classes?”\n\nA small smile appeared on her face instantly. \"Actually—\" She caught herself, sighed, and continued. “…Yeah.”\n\nSofia let out a soft chuckle. “I could tell.”\n\nHer eyes widened for a second. “How?”\n\n“You reorganized your backpack twice this week.”\n\nCatalina blinked, then gave a sour expression. “Hey, I only reorganized it once!”\n\nSofia stared at her.\n\nCatalina broke and scratched her scaly cheek with her paw. “Okay… maybe twice.”\n\n“Thought so.”\n\nCatalina laughed softly, shaking her head as avocado spread across toast.\n\n“I just want to be prepared.”\n\n“Well, who doesn’t.”\n\nSeconds passed as avocado met toast. Sofia went to fill the silence.\n\n“You know…” she said, watching Catalina move from the cutting board to the sink and back to the counter without stopping. “…I don’t ever think I've seen you do, like nothing.”\n\nCatalina paused for a fraction of a moment, yet the knife kept moving.\n\nShe's probably right.\n\n\"I wouldn’t even know where to start.”  \n  \nSilence settled for a few brief moments. Her eyes glanced toward the surfboard that lay against the wall.\n\n“I think I’m gonna head out in a bit.”\n\n* * *\n\nClick!\n\nThe final strap locked into place.\n\nCatalina rolled her shoulders and glanced back to make sure the surfboard rested evenly along her spine. It sat between the base of her neck and the rise of her wings, held on tight by two dark straps that crossed beneath her chest and around her middle. Secure, balanced, not too tight. Her satchel hung close beside.\n\nThere were few things more embarrassing than having your board slide sideways mid-flight. Only a few. Actually no, there were many things more embarrassing. Though it was definitely up there.\n\nShe tugged once more with her tail, testing the clasp until it gave a slight creak. The board stayed still.\n\nSofia watched from the kitchen, still leaning on the counter with a strawberry between two claws.\n\n“You’re going now?”\n\nCatalina glanced toward the open balcony door. The curtains blew slightly with the ocean air. “Yeah.”\n\nSofia popped the strawberry into her mouth. “But you just ate.”\n\n“I’ll be fine.” Catalina walked closer to the balcony.\n\nShe rolled her eyes. “Fine then, don’t blame me when you get a cramp.”\n\nCatalina smiled and nodded. The feeling lingered as she took another step closer to the balcony.\n\nThe apartment always looked so calm from this angle. Morning light stretched across white cabinets, a glass table, and the couch blanket she folded earlier. For a second, it seemed so peaceful, just enough to stay in.\n\nOnly a second, though; her eyes met imperfection soon after. A knife and a cutting board both lay unwashed in the sink.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCatalina went to turn around when Sofia cleared her throat and spoke. “Go. I’ll deal with them.”\n\nShe glanced over slightly. “I wasn’t even going—\"\n\n“You were.”\n\n“…”\n\n“You were about to clean the cutting board.”\n\nCatalina’s tail flicked once. “It would take ten seconds.”\n\n“Yeah, ten seconds I'll spend on them. Me. You go to the beach.”\n\nCatalina held her gaze a moment longer, then gave a small sigh like she had suffered greatly. “Alright, you win.”\n\nThe balcony waited patiently.\n\nBeyond it, the city had already begun moving. Cars slipped through the streets, a bus screeched to a stop, and two dragons crossed the skyline, their wings cutting clean shapes through the morning haze. Farther out, the ocean flashed white where the sun had touched it.\n\nCatalina stepped through the door. Warm concrete pressed against her paws. The wind slid under the edge of her wings before she even opened them. Impatient yet familiar.\n\nShe breathed in her surroundings. Salt, sunlight, car exhaust, coffee from a café nearby, someone’s laundry detergent. All of Santa Hidalgo, mixed together, alive before eight in the morning.\n\nShe spread her wings.\n\nFor one quiet moment, all of the thoughts in her head lined themselves up. The podcast. Sofia’s face when she asked about the nightmare. Mateo’s text. The cutting board in the sink. The folded blanket. The fact that she wanted another slice of avocado toast.\n\nThe wind pressed harder, and everything loosened.\n\nCatalina pushed off the concrete. The balcony dropped beneath her. For a few seconds, she was falling. Her wings caught.\u0026nbsp;\n\nWoooooooosh.\n\nAir filled beneath her like hands pushing her up from below. The apartment fell away, the street opened, and the city widened.\n\nCatalina was between buildings, low enough to catch the smell of breakfast from open windows, high enough that no one had to step around her.\n\nA human on the sidewalk looked up, shielding his eyes. A little dragon on a neighboring balcony waved their tail. Catalina smiled and dipped a wing in greeting. The child waved harder. She couldn’t help smiling.\n\nHer neck turned toward the beach.\n\nThe surfboard stayed steady against her back, shifting only slightly whenever she angled her wings. The straps pulled at her shoulders with familiarity. A reminder of where she was going.\n\nBelow, Santa Hidalgo unfolded into many pieces. Rooftop gardens, landing pads, traffic lights with dragon-height signals, a dragon carrying a package, a street vendor arguing with a customer while flipping something on a grill, and two students jogging together, one human, one dragon, both equally as miserable.\n\nThe dragon was pretending not to struggle. The human beside was pretending not to notice. It was kind, she thought. Or prideful.\n\nShe banked right. The ocean came fully into view. Blue upon blue upon blue. A kind of blue that made every problem seem smaller and made one remember that problems were usually patient. They waited.\n\nCatalina tucked her wings lower and dove. Wind rushed over her scales.\n\nThe warmth of the sun spread across her back, settling into the lavender. The board shook faintly against her spine. Waves rolled toward the shore in long, foamy, white lines.\n\nHer breathing slowed. Up here, nobody needed anything from her, no one asked if she was okay, no one watched her too closely, and no one expected an answer. There was only the rush of air against her wings and a sea waiting below.\n\nCatalina continued diving.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe beach rose slowly at first, then all at once. Circles became umbrellas, and moving dots became people. Nets stretched across the sand, while humans and dragons alike played volleyball on them. Most of the time, a dragon would raise a tail to block a human's shot.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe landing zone came into view near the south end of the boardwalk, a wide square of reinforced concrete painted with yellow wings.\n\nShe angled herself toward it. The wind changed immediately. Up high, it had been smooth, generous, and easy to trust. Closer to the ground was a different story. Heat lifted from the pavement as ocean air pushed inland. A bus rolled by below, throwing a pocket of hot exhaust into the mix.\n\nCatalina adjusted without thought. Her left wing dipped as her right rose. Her tail swept behind her, making sure to keep the board steady. The surfboard tugged against the straps. She held herself level. Almost there. A seagull crossed in front of her at the last second.\n\nCatalina stared blankly. The gull stared back, just as blankly. Neither changed course.\n\n“Seriously!?”\n\nHer wings spread wider. The bird finally remembered it had survival instincts and decided to flap out the way.\n\nCatalina came down much harder than she meant to.\n\nThump! Her paws met the concrete.\n\nThe pad gave a tremble beneath her weight. A human glanced up from his phone, decided what he saw was none of his business, and continued scrolling. Good choice.\n\nCatalina folded her wings against her sides and stood still for a second, letting the last bit of flight leave her body.\n\nFlying always ended too fast for her. Even when she was the one choosing to land.\n\nShe reached back with her tail and unhooked the first clasp; the second and third followed close behind. The surfboard slid free with a soft scrape against the harness before her tail settled it beside her.\n\nIt was longer and wider than most human boards, shaped to carry a dragon’s weight without fighting the water too much. The front curved slightly upward. The back narrowed into a deep split that gave her tail room to move.\n\nA human board asked for feet. A dragon board asked for a whole body.\n\nCatalina quickly attached the strap on the surfboard to her ankle, hooked the board with her tail, held it against her body, and made her way toward the water.\n\nThe sand changed everything. Concrete held still, sand remembered every step.\n\nHer paws sank slightly with each step, warm grains pushing against her paws and in between her claws. Around her, the beach had divided itself into its usual little worlds. Human surfers next to the pier, dragon surfers farther out where the waves came larger. Families rested under umbrellas, college kids pretended they weren’t hungover, and a pair of older dragons sunned themselves like they hadn’t invented the concept.\n\nCatalina passed them with a polite nod. One nodded back without opening his eyes. Respect.\n\nShe slid off her satchel and advanced toward the water.\n\nNear the shoreline, the water curled forward and around her paws. It was cold and sharp. If she wasn’t awake before, she was now. She smiled gleefully at the feeling.\n\n“Okay.”\n\nThe first wave reached her ankles; the second climbed higher. By the third, she was moving.\n\nCatalina pushed the board ahead of her, wading until the water deepened around her chest. She promptly climbed on, settling her weight evenly along the board center. Her front found their place near the forward grip. Her back was braced further behind. Her wings lifted slightly, just enough to where she could listen to the air but not catch it.\n\nMost humans thought dragons surfing looked ridiculous. Catalina understood why. Humans controlled the board with their feet, pressure through the back foot, turned shoulders, small shifts, and quick corrections.\n\nDragons didn’t work that way. Paws held on, wings gave balance, and the tail steered.\n\nCatalina’s tail slipped into the slit at the back of the board, the tip just touching the water. A small flick left, and the board angled right. Her wings hovered, catching every wobble before it became a wipeout.\n\nA wave lifted beneath her. Not big enough, so she let it pass. Another rolled behind it. Much better.\n\nThe water gathered around the board, rising with a quiet force. Catalina lowered her front, wings stretching outward, tail steady in the channel. The wave pulled, the board trembled, and caught\n\nFor one perfect second, everything aligned. Her paws held firm, her wings adjusted, her tail cut through the water, and the board shot forward.\n\nCatalina laughed before she could stop herself.\n\nWind rushed over her scaly face, spray kept along her sides, and the wave carried her toward the shore, fast and clean. She leaned further into it, now with her whole body. Her left wing dipped as her tail curved right. The board carved across the face of the water in one smooth line. The ocean pushed, and she answered.\n\nJust ahead, a dragon wiped out with an enormous splash as the wave overtook them. Catalina swerved around the foam, laughing again.\n\n“Watch your tail!”\n\nThe other dragon shouted back from somewhere in the water. “I meant to do that!”\n\nSure you did.\n\nShe rode the wave until it softened, until power became foam, until speed became drift. She stepped off into the shallows, water breaking around her legs and sunshine across her back.\n\nFor a moment, Catalina just stood there, smiling at nothing. Her thoughts were quieter. Not entirely gone, but quiet. That was enough. For a while, that was all she needed.\n\nThe sun slowly climbed as wave after wave passed. Catalina had lost track of time in the usual way. The ocean gave her much better things to focus on. The pull beneath the board, the angle of her wings, the pressure of the water against her tail, the sunlight that warmed her back every time she turned to the shore.\n\nShe rode one wave too early and lost it before it had any real shape. She rode another too late and had to bail sideways before the board slipped out from under her. A laugh escaped her both times. Saltwater filled her mouth, her wings slapped the surface, and her tail kicked foam everywhere.\n\nA human surfer nearby raised a fist.\n\n“Good shit! Ten out of Ten!”\n\nCatalina coughed up seawater and lifted her tail in the closest thing to a rude gesture she could manage.\n\nHe laughed. She did too.\n\nThe next wave came cleaner. Catalina caught it just as it broke, paws firm, wings spread, tail dragging a smooth curve through the water. The board obeyed, imperfectly. That was the way she liked it. Perfect things got boring once one knew how they worked.\n\nThe ocean didn’t care how prepared she was. It just rolled out waves, one after another. It constantly changed. So she had to change with it. Again, and again, and again.\n\nBy the time she finally stepped into sand again, her legs felt heavy and warm. Her wings dripped with seawater in uneven trails. Sunlight shimmered against every scale of lavender until some looked almost silver.\n\nShe shook her whole body once. A couple sat beneath a tent as ocean water sprayed their direction.\n\nCatalina froze.\n\n“…My bad.”\n\nThe woman wiped water off her sunglasses. Her boyfriend slowly lifted a now damp potato chip out of a bag. Catalina’s ears lowered.\n\n“That one’s on me.”\n\nThe woman stared for a second longer, then snickered while shaking her head.\n\nCatalina laughed softly in relief and backed away before she could ruin anything else.\n\nThe beach had gotten much louder while she was out. More towels, more music, and more kids running in places they should absolutely not be running. A large volleyball game had formed: humans on one side, dragons on the other. It was either going to get incredibly competitive, or someone was about to get absolutely humbled. Most likely both.\n\nCatalina unhooked the ankle strap from the board and dragged it farther up the sand with her tail. Water dripped from the split at the end, leaving a dark trail behind. She found herself an open spot near the boardwalk and lowered herself carefully onto the warm sand.\n\nThe warmth welcomed her like it had been saving the space. She stretched one wing out. The other followed after.\n\nWarmth settled over her back as she loafed, slow and heavy, soaking into the places the water had cooled to quickly. The world softened around the edges. Gulls cried overhead, a kid laughed so hard he hiccupped, and somewhere behind, a speaker played a slow, reggae song.\n\nCatalina closed her eyes. Just one minute, she told herself. Just one.\n\nTen minutes later, her stomach disagreed. Loudly. Her eyes opened.\n\n“…Mmm,” she groaned.\n\nShe lifted her head and craned it toward the boardwalk. A row of seaside restaurants sat facing the water, glass windows, outdoor umbrellas, and hosts pretending they weren’t melting in the heat. The furthest one had a patio large enough for dragons. She remembered the place had bomb breakfast burritos.\n\nThat decided it.\n\nCatalina stood, sand sliding down her scales in little streams. She shook out her wings again, much more carefully this time, and pulled the surfboard upright. The harness was still attached near the front, dipping into the sand.\n\nShe considered flying home first.\u0026nbsp;\n\nHer stomach grumbled in response.\n\nThat had decided her next course of action.\u0026nbsp;\n\nShe crossed the beach toward the restaurant, board tucked against her side, and harness straps hanging over her tail. She passed a collection of shops before reaching the location. The hostess saw her approaching and immediately grabbed a larger menu from beneath the sand. Catalina appreciated that, just another reason she liked this place so much.\n\n“Just one?” the hostess asked.\n\nCatalina nodded. “Yeah.”\n\nThe hostess smiled politely and led her to an outside patio where the dragon seating faced the ocean. No chair, obviously, just a low, reinforced platform with enough space for her to fold her legs beneath her and keep her tail out of the walkway.\n\nThe hostess placed a menu on the table. “Someone will be right with you.”\n\n“Thank you.”\n\nCatalina watched her walk away. Shoulders relaxed, real but polite smile. Probably new, but not terrified. Catalina liked her energy.\n\nShe leaned down toward the menu. Breakfast burrito, avocado toast, eggs, and bacon. All with a dragon-portion upgrade. She smiled; Sofia would’ve commented on the avocado toast.\n\nHer tail reached instinctively toward the satchel on her side with her tablet. And her wallet.\n\nNothing.\n\nCatalina paused. Her tail reached along her side again.\n\nNothing. Gone. Zilch.\n\nHer smile dropped instantly. Her neck turned down so fast it could’ve given her whiplash. No satchel. No tablet. No wallet. No keys. No, nothing. Just scales, the surfboard, her harness, and a deep disappointment in herself.\n\n“…You’re kidding.”\n\nThe waiter arrived at exactly the wrong time.\n\n“Can I start you with something to drink?”\n\nCatalina slowly looked up, a very weak smile strewn across her face. The waiter's smile stiffened a little. He knew. Not exactly what happened, but something he should not have walked into.\n\nHer weak smile stayed weak when she spoke.\n\n“Water would be great. I’ll be right back actually.”\n\n“Of course.”\n\nShe stood way too quickly, then stopped when the surfboard sifted against the railing. Right, it’s a public sidewalk.\n\nHer eyes met the board, and she glanced toward the boardwalk. She alternated between the two. A human would probably have carried everything. She was not human, now was she.\n\nCatalina carefully tucked the surfboard and harness under the patio table, angled so it wouldn’t block the way of any passerby, and gave the waiter another weak smile.\n\n“I forgot something.”\n\n“Take your time.”\n\nHis voice said, \"No rush.\" His eyes said, \"Please don’t leave unpaid equipment here forever.\" That was fair.\n\nShe stepped away from the patio and made her way toward the beach at a pace that was absolutely not a panicked walk. It was purposeful if anything.\n\nHer claws clicked slightly against the wood. Wood turned to cement, as crowds shifted around her. A boy with a dripping ice cream cone stared up at her in fascination. His mother tugged him gently, ushering him somewhere else.\n\nCatalina smiled at the kid. He hid behind his mother. A second later, peeked out again. That’s too cute. The smile stayed until she reached the stairs down the beach. At the bottom of them, she saw it, her satchel, exactly where she had left it.\n\nIt was half-buried in the spot where she had been sunning herself, one strap curled in the sand like it had given up on her.\n\nCatalina stopped. Relief came first, then embarrassment, then irritation. Mostly at herself.\n\n“One job…” she muttered to herself.\n\nOf course! One routine changes and suddenly I’m forgetting everything.\u0026nbsp;\n\nShe crossed the sand and grabbed the satchel with her tail, shaking it once to free the sand from the strap. Her tablet was inside. Wallet and keys too.\n\nNobody stole it. She’d just simply outsmarted herself.\n\nShe slung the satchel through her neck and across her shoulder and turned back toward the boardwalk.\n\nThe beach hummed behind her, with waves, laughter, and seagulls complaining about something that was most definitely their own fault.\n\nA sharp clack echoed somewhere ahead.\n\nHer eyes wandered to see the sound. A human stood outside, skateboard tucked under an arm, wrestling with an oversized door that refused to cooperate. He pulled once. Not a budge. He frowned and pulled, now with more of his body. Still nothing.\n\nCatalina slowed without meaning to. The poor guy was genuinely committed.\n\nHe pulled once more. The door stayed exactly as it had been for the last three pulls. Eventually, his sight drifted to a piece of paper taped near the glass.\n\nCLOSED FOR RECONSTRUCTION\n\nHis shoulder dropped a little as he muttered something loudly and unintelligible.\n\n“Yeah,” Catalina muttered quietly to herself. “That’ll do it.”\n\nThe human stood there for another moment before dropping the skateboard onto the sidewalk with considerably more force than necessary.\n\nClack!\n\nHe whipped out his phone. His thumb hovered over the screen without really doing much. Maybe waiting for something? She couldn’t tell.\n\nHe seemed tired, not exhausted, though. His shoulders were relaxed. His jaw wasn't. That wasn’t a normal combination.\n\nSweat had darkened the collar of his white soccer jersey. His dark curls look like they had given up staying neat a while ago. His hair was paired with an eyebrow slit and a goatee-and-mustache combo. One earbud remained in his pierced ear while the other hung loose down his torso. His foot rested atop his skateboard almost absentmindedly, like he spent so much time riding on it that it felt strange standing on the ground. He couldn’t have been much older than her. Twenty-ish.\n\nHer gaze lingered a moment longer than she meant to.\n\nHuh. Kinda—\n\n…\n\nNo.\n\nBefore she could finish her thought, the human had looked up. Their eyes met.\n\nCatalina stopped walking. She hadn’t meant to stare. Apparently neither had he, because it looked like he was caught with his paw in a cookie jar. Though a hint of surprise rested on his face, maybe at the fact that someone else was looking at him.\n\nNeither of them broke away. One second passed. Two seconds. Three. Too long.\n\nCatalina knew perfectly well she should break eye contact. Instead, she found herself wondering why he seemed vaguely familiar. He didn't; she had never seen him before, so why did it feel like she had? The thought vanished as quickly as it arrived.\n\nThe human suddenly broke eye contact. Very decisively. His phone appeared in his hand almost immediately. Catalina watched him stare at a screen with an intensity that suggested he wasn’t reading a single thing on it.\n\nShe almost smiled. It looked suspiciously like he was pretending to be busy.\n\nSo she continued walking. There. Problem solved. No more awkward staring.\n\n…\n\nShe had taken perhaps eight steps when she heard a voice call out.\n\n\"Shit—\"\n\nCatalina turned instinctively. The skateboard had somehow lodged itself between two uneven slabs of pavement.\n\nThe human pitched forward. One hand slapped against the sidewalk, while his legs shot outward in an attempt to prove to gravity that he had won the battle. Catalina flinched.\n\nA couple nearby started as they passed. He stayed in that position while looking up at them. He gave a nod and a smile.\n\n“Street performance… Got any money?”\n\nThe couple continued walking.\n\nCatalina bit her tongue.\n\nDon’t. Don’t laugh.\n\nA tiny snort escaped before she could stop it. Oops.\n\nThe human rose to his feet; he climbed back onto his skateboard with impressive commitment to pretending his dignity remained intact.\n\nHe pushed away, noticeably more careful this time. Catalina watched him roll down the sidewalk for another few seconds before reminding herself she had somewhere to be. Her stomach grumbled at the thought.\n\nRight. She turned forward.\n\n…\n\nFor reasons she couldn’t explain, she glanced back over her shoulder. At exactly the same moment he looked back too.\n\nTheir eyes met again. Both immediately turned their attention somewhere else.\n\nCatalina faced forward so fast her satchel swung against her side.\n\n“…Why did I do that? ” she asked absolutely nobody.\n\nThe ocean breeze carried away the thought before anyone could answer.  \n  \n**Ch.3 -A Tale Of 2 Citiez**  \n  \nRubber wheels hummed as they caught every groove in the pavement.  \n  \nClack! Clack! Clack!  \n  \nMarco decided to let the sidewalk determine where he went for a while.  \n  \nThe city blurred together into familiar pieces. Apartments and cafes: cafes turned to murals, and murals became intersections. The music in his earbuds drowned out traffic until everything around him became rhythm and noise.  \n  \nThe dragon popped into his mind.  \n  \n“...Dude.” He shook his head and muttered to himself. “Get over yourself.”  \n  \nShe was just some dragon. A weirdly pretty dragon. Which made no sense.  \n  \nMarco decided he wasn't dealing with the problem at this moment. So he shoved every thought of her into the same corner of his mind where embarrassing stories from middle school lived.  \n  \nThe board rolled onward. Ahead, the city had transformed into smooth concrete and painted rails. The familiar sounds echoed to him before the place did. Wheels scraping metal. Someone landed hard enough to rattle plywood. A chorus of “Dude!” and “No way!” filled the air. The skatepark. Now this was heaven.  \n  \nMarco picked up his board near the entrance, giving a quick scan of the place. Same graffiti. Same stickers. Same chipped quarter pipe. Same kid trying to ollie the same three stairs he’d been attempting since June. He almost landed it too. Almost. His board launched forward while the rest of him stayed behind. The kid sucked air through his teeth and spoke. “...Ow.” Marco laughed under his breath and approached the boy and squatted on the ground.  \n  \n“You’re getting closer.”  \n  \nThe kid looked up, rubbing his head. “Yeah… I almost had it.”  \n  \nHe smiled. “You definitely almost had it.”  \n  \nMarco got up and walked away. His board dropped onto concrete. Clack! One push. Another. The bowl welcomed him as it always had.  \n  \nMomentum carried him down the drop. His knees bent naturally as the concrete curved naturally beneath. He climbed up one wall, crossed toward the center, climbed the opposite side, and snapped a lazy kickturn near the coping before gravity pulled him back down.  \n  \nEvery fear dissipated as the board pulled him down. Money. Classes. Expensive tacos. The closed record store. Even the dragon. There was only speed.  \n  \nHe pumped once more through the bowl, launched himself over the spine, and landed with a satisfying crack against the concrete.  \n  \n“Yooooo!”  \n  \nMarco lifted a hand while rolling away.  \n  \n“Thank you. Thank you.”  \n  \nAnother skater rolled beside him. “You trying the handrail today?”  \n  \nMarco glanced toward the rail. “Yeah… How about fuck no.”  \n  \n“What happened to go big or go home?”  \n  \n“I’d like to be able to skate back home. That's what happened.”  \n  \nThe skater laughed. “Fairs.”  \n  \nFor nearly an hour, Marco drifted from obstacle to obstacle. A kickflip. Missed. Another try. Landed. A sloppy fifty-fifty grind. An accidental shove-it that counted because no one could prove otherwise. He spent ten minutes with that same kid, helping him figure out why his board kept turning sideways on an ollie.  \n  \n“It’s your shoulders.”  \n  \n“...My shoulders?” The kid glanced toward them in confusion.  \n  \n\"Yeah.\" Marco stepped beside him. \"You open them too early.”  \n  \nThe kid rubbed his neck. “What does that mean?”  \n  \nMarco chuckled and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I didn’t either when someone told me.”  \n  \nHe moved the kid’s shoulders square with the board. “Just pretend there's a camera pointing at your chest. Don’t let it look anywhere but forward.”  \n  \nThe kid nodded seriously and tried again. Pop up. Slide. Land. Not perfect, but improvement. His eyes lit up anyway. “I DID IT!”  \n  \nMarco patted the kid on his back. “What’d I say?”  \n  \nThe kid grinned before skating off to show someone else. Marco smiled to himself. Maybe he wasn’t completely useless.  \n  \nHe pushed toward the edge of the park to catch his breath. Right now, he wished he had brought a water bottle. Like bad.  \n  \n“...Awesome.” Guess the water fountain it was.\n\nHe rolled to the fountain near the entrance. Bent down. Took a swig. Three more followed. The cold water immediately worked its magic.  \n  \nHis hand wiped across his mouth. Much better.  \n  \nThat was when Marco noticed something: lavender crossed the sidewalk beyond the fence. His eyes followed automatically.  \n  \n“...”  \n  \nNo way bro.  \n  \nIt was that same dragon. Again. She wasn’t looking at him. She simply walked past the skatepark with that same burlap satchel, yet now carrying a surfboard on a harness strapped to her back. The sunlight caught her golden earrings before she disappeared behind a row of palm trees.  \n  \nMarco stared blankly. “...Huh.” His eyes lingered. A small laugh escaped him.  \n  \n“Guess this city is smaller than I thought.”  \n  \nMarco pushed away from the skatepark with slightly tired legs and a much lighter mind. The city felt slower now. It wasn’t the city, though; it was him.  \n  \nThe board rolled lazily beneath him as the sun climbed slowly overhead. He passed a mural of two dragons painted across an apartment complex. His eyes drifted toward a tiny observatory built into the roof of the university’s physics department. The building sat along a lonely hill, far from the university.  \n  \nOne more day. Just one more day. He would return to arguing with professors over gravitational lensing and pretending tensor calculus wasn’t actively trying to kill him in one day.  \n  \nHe smiled longingly as his eyes lingered on the dome.  \n  \n“Can’t wait.”  \n  \nThe thought alone gave him energy to push harder. Clack! Clack! Clack! The skatepark disappeared behind him.  \n  \nA few minutes later, concrete gave way to grass. The city park stretched beneath dozens of old palms whose leaves brushed softly against one another as the breeze rolled through. Families occupied nearly every patch of shade. Kids chased pigeons with a confidence they absolutely did not deserve. A group of teens played hacky sack. A woman was lying peacefully in a hammock.  \n  \nNear the center of the park… Someone yelled.  \n  \n“MAN ON!”  \n  \nMarco turned his neck instinctively. A pickup soccer game covered a chunk of the grass. Humans. Dragons. A couple who most likely wandered in a couple minutes ago. Just his kind of game.  \n  \nA loose ball escaped the field and rolled toward him. Marco stopped it with the inside of his foot. A player waved over and spoke.  \n  \n“You joining?”  \n  \nMarco grinned. “Bet. What’s the teams?”  \n  \nHe hid his skateboard beneath a nearby bench along with all of his personal items before jogging onto the grass.  \n  \n“Shirts.”  \n  \n“Damn.” Marco looked down at his damp white jersey. “How convenient…”  \n  \nMarco passed the ball toward the player he was talking to before. The player continued to speak.  \n  \n“No slide tackles and no fighting.”  \n  \n“...Now you're taking all the fun out of the game.”  \n  \nA few laughs circled the field. The game had restarted.  \n  \nMarco popped into midfield, and the nine immediately passed the ball towards him. Perfect. His first touch killed the ball cleanly. His second pushed it forward. His third—  \n  \nA defender stepped. Marco rolled the ball behind his standing foot. He yelled, “Megged!” Then continued dribbling.  \n  \n“Ohhhh!”  \n  \nThe defender threw both hands into the air. “No shot.”  \n  \nMarco couldn’t stop grinning. “That’s one.”  \n  \nHe kept moving. Physics had taught him a lot about predicting motion. Soccer taught him how wrong those predictions usually were. Bodies accelerated. Momentum changed. Passing lanes opened and disappeared before anyone could notice. Marco loved that part. He wasn’t the fastest, yet he could act like he was thanks to those spaces.  \n  \nA teammate made a run. Marco didn’t look. He simply flicked a ball to seemingly no one. Three seconds later… His teammate appeared right where the ball had been waiting.  \n  \n“...Absolutely filthy!”  \n  \nThe teammate buried the ball into the corner. The entire shirts team erupted. Marco pointed at the player who scored.  \n  \n“Good shit!”  \n  \nThe teammate pointed back. “Nutty pass, bro!”  \n  \nThe game continued. The ball moved back and forth. Someone slipped trying to defend a dragon almost twice their size. A dragon apologized after accidentally sending a human spinning with their tail. The human stood laughing.  \n  \nBy the time Marco’s lungs started burning, the score had reached five to four. Nobody knew who was winning anymore. Nobody really cared.  \n  \nSomeone blasted a shot over the crossbar. The ball sailed toward the walking path. Marco jogged after it before anyone else could. He stopped it just before it rolled into a flowerbed.  \n  \n“Got it.”  \n  \nHe glanced up, past the bed. And froze.  \n  \nJust across the path, walking calmly beneath the palm trees. Lavender scales. Gold earrings. Satchel. Surfboard. It was her. Again. Looking right at him.  \n  \nHe clutched the ball harder.  \n  \nWhat the hell?  \n  \nShe quickly looked away just as he looked her way.  \n  \nMarco pinched the bridge of his nose. “Seriously?”  \n  \nHe stood there, holding the ball much longer than necessary. One of his teammates yelled from across the field.  \n  \n“White jersey!”  \n  \nHe turned. “Yeah?”  \n  \n“You throwing in the ball today or next semester?”  \n  \nMarco shook himself free and started his jog back. “Shut up! I’m coming!”  \n  \nHe launched the ball back into play. Yet even after the game resumed… His eyes drifted to the path one last time. She was gone now.  \n  \nMarco scratched the back of his head.  \n  \n“Okay…” Now it was getting weird.  \n  \nThe game dissolved in the way they usually do. Someone had to leave for work. Someone else claimed they were dying of dehydration. Another promised they would return tomorrow, knowing full well they wouldn’t.  \n  \nMarco wiped the sweat from his forehead with the bottom of his jersey before grabbing his belongings from under the bench.  \n  \n“Good runs.”  \n  \n“You too, bro.”  \n  \n“Same time tomorrow?”  \n  \n“Maybe… If I can walk.”  \n  \nA chorus of tired laughs echoed through the field as he pushed away.  \n  \nThe board carried him downhill toward the waterfront. The noon sun had mellowed, trading its white glare for something warmer. The closer he got, the stronger the smell of salt became until it overpowered the smell of hot pavement.  \n  \nClack! Clack! Clack!  \n  \nThe promenade stretched alongside the bay, lined with palms leaning slightly over the water. Tourists wandered the area without urgency. Cyclists weaved around them. Joggers trailed behind the cyclists, somehow looking miserable despite living somewhere so pretty.  \n  \nMarco chuckled to himself. “...Idiots.”  \n  \nHis skateboard slowed naturally. He hopped off and popped it up before tucking it beneath his arm. He decided to walk instead.  \n  \nThe ocean glittered beside him. Small waves slapped gently against the seawall. A ferry drifted lazily toward the harbor. He found an empty section of railing and leaned his back against it. There was something strangely entertaining about just watching people exist.  \n  \nHe craned his neck to look at the water. Below, a father attempted to teach his daughter how to skip stones. She threw the first one straight into the air. Both ducked.  \n  \n“...Close enough, sweetie.” The father rubbed the daughter's head lovingly.  \n  \nMarco smiled at the sight. He turned his neck forward again.  \n  \nA dragon wearing an expensive-looking satchel briefcase held an ice cream cone with his tail while taking a phone call. The cone slipped. Splat… The dragon stared toward the fallen ice cream for a whole three seconds.  \n  \n“Well.”  \n  \nThe call continued.  \n  \nA pair of elderly women sat on a bench feeding seagulls despite several signs clearly depicting not to. The birds clearly appreciated the civil disobedience.  \n  \nA teenage couple argued over directions while standing directly in front of a map.  \n  \nMarco raised an eyebrow at the sight.  \n  \n“...It’s literally right there?”  \n  \nThe couple didn't notice. They walked in the wrong direction, most likely because that way was a dead end. He shook his head, smiling, curls delayed as he moved. Cities fascinated him. Millions of lives moving independently. Everyone the main character of their own story. Everyone carrying on, somewhere to be. Everyone worrying about something no one else could see.  \n  \nHe wondered how many stories passed him today. How many celebrations. How many breakups. How many people were quietly having the best day of their lives. Or the worst.  \n  \nThe thought lingered longer than expected.  \n  \nA breeze rolled through, ruffling his curls. Marco hopped onto the railing, hands grabbing the metal.  \n  \n“...People are weird.”  \n  \nA voice behind him answered immediately.  \n  \n“They really are.”  \n  \nMarco glanced to his left. An old dragon sat beside, on his haunches. A fishing rod was propped against the railing. Neither had noticed each other.  \n  \nHe chuckled. “I wasn’t talking to you.”  \n  \nThe dragon laughed in response. “I know.”  \n  \nThe two stay there for another minute in comfortable silence, watching the promenade unfold before them.  \n  \nEventually, the old dragon reeled in an empty line with a disappointed sigh.  \n  \n“Nothing today.”  \n  \nMarco shrugged. “Maybe they made plans.”  \n  \nThe old dragon barked out another laugh. “Yep, they usually do!”  \n  \nMarco laughed softly before hopping off the railing and throwing his skateboard to the ground.  \n  \n“Good luck, sir.”  \n  \n“You too, kid.”  \n  \nClack! Clack! Clack!\n\nThe board rolled onward, carrying him farther along the waterfront while the city continued living around him, half-unaware that somewhere out there, a lavender dragon continued with an equally ordinary afternoon.\n\n* * *\n\nThe rehabilitation smelled faintly of saltwater, antiseptic, and fish. Catalina loved it. Most people probably wouldn’t.  \n  \nThe building sat just a few streets away from the shoreline, tucked behind a weathered marina where pelicans constantly tried, and usually failed, to steal lunches from fishermen. A bell chimed softly as she stepped inside.  \n  \n“Hi.”  \n  \nA woman behind a desk looked up from a clipboard.  \n  \n“Oh, thank goodness.”  \n  \nCatalonia stared. “Should… I be worried?”  \n  \n“Only if you're afraid of birds.”  \n  \n“...I already am.”  \n  \n“Perfect.”  \n  \nThe woman pointed to the back room. “Room three. You can put your stuff in the locker room.”  \n  \nCatalina sighed dramatically. “I knew volunteering would become dangerous.” She promptly disappeared behind swinging doors.  \n  \nThe room exploded with noise, squawks, flapping, tiny chirps, and one extremely angry pelican.  \n  \n“Good morning to you too…”  \n  \nThe pelican answered with a glare. Catalina wasn’t fully convinced birds had facial expressions, yet this one did apparently.  \n  \nShe sat beside a table where a volunteer was wrapping a seagull's wing.  \n  \n“Need a paw?”  \n  \n“Please.”  \n  \nCatalina immediately held the bird gently while the bandage was secured.  \n  \n“It's okay…” The bird fought for a moment before slowly settling. “There you go.” She stroked the bird very gently with a claw; its breathing slowed in response. “...Good.”  \n  \nAcross the room, another volunteer laughed. “I swear, they only calm down for you.”  \n  \nCatalina glanced toward the gull, then back toward the volunteer, very confused. “They do?”  \n  \nThe volunteer snickered. “Every time.”  \n  \nShe glanced toward the bird again; it seemed much more relaxed. “...Huh.” She never noticed.  \n  \nAn hour disappeared as she cleaned enclosures, prepared food, and recorded recovery notes. She helped guide a rescued sea turtle into a therapy pool. It may have been repetitive, but Catalina liked repetitive. There was comfort in routines that helped something heal.  \n  \nShe paused beside an outdoor enclosure. A young pelican gazed near the edge of the water, a wing still wrapped, longing.  \n  \n“...Soon.”  \n  \nCatalina rested a foreleg against the fence.  \n  \n“You’ll be back out there soon.”  \n  \nThe bird turned toward her and back at the waves. She smiled in response.  \n  \n“I know.”  \n  \nBehind her, someone called out. “Catalina!” She turned; an older volunteer waved a clipboard. “We’ve got another intake.” Catalina immediately trotted over and spoke out.  \n  \n“Coming!”\n\nWithout another thought, she disappeared back inside, where another frightened animal needed someone patient enough to convince it the world wasn’t ending.  \n  \n\"Done...Finally,\" Catalina groaned. Her shoulders sagged.  \n  \nA familiar voice called from behind. “Heading out?”  \n  \nCatalina turned. Miriam, one of the senior rehabilitators, smiled while stacking towels in a cabinet.  \n  \n“Mhm,” she nodded.\n\n“You worked through lunch again.”  \n  \nCatalina froze. “I did?”  \n  \nMiriam raised an eyebrow. “You forgot again.”  \n  \n“...Oh.”  \n  \nShe genuinely had.  \n  \nMiriam sighed with the practiced patience of someone who had witnessed this exact exchange at least twenty times.  \n  \n“Go home.”  \n  \n“I am.”  \n  \n“And eat.”  \n  \n“...I was planning on it.” Catalina offered an awkward smile.  \n  \nMiriam seemed unconvinced.  \n  \n“Hey, I actually am!”  \n  \n“...Good.” Miriam pointed toward the volunteer hallway. “Now get out before I find another task for you.”  \n  \nCatalina laughed softly and trotted down the hallway. “Yes, ma'am.\"\n\nThe door swung open as she was met with the locker rooms. Catalina walked along the metal lockers and stopped in front of hers.  \n  \nClick.  \n  \nThe door creaked. Inside, everything she had left two hours ago stayed exactly where it was placed. Her satchel, her flight harness, and her surfboard, which leaned neatly against the back wall, still smelled faintly of saltwater.  \n  \nShe reached for her satchel first. Tablet, wallet, and keys all still inside. Good.  \n  \nHer tail looped the strap around her neck and shoulder. Next came the harness. She lifted it carefully, checking each buckle out of habit rather than necessity. Nothing was loose. Satisfied, she slipped it over her body with practiced efficiency. Finally, she reached for the board. Her tail steadied the weight while her paws guided it along her back. The pressure settled against her spine. She fastened the harness. Click. Click. Click. Perfect.\n\nShe gave everything one last check. No repeating what happened earlier, she thought. Satchel, secured harness, surfboard, all good to go.  \n  \nOkay, now she could leave. She nudged the locker shut as she turned to walk away.\u0026nbsp;\n\nClunk.  \n  \nThe rehabilitation center began emptying by the time she stepped outside. The marina glowed yellow under the afternoon sun. Fishing boats rocked against their ropes; pelicans stood along docks like judgemental old men, and the air smelled of salt, diesel, and fried seafood from somewhere down the street.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCatalina stretched her wings one at a time, contemplating flying. It wasn’t even far, and she had already spent most of the day in the air today. Besides… The city was always nicer this time of day.  \n  \nThe boardwalk was just a few blocks ahead, much busier than it had been in the morning. Families wandered through restaurants, street musicians filled the air with guitar chords, and someone laughed enough for the promenade to hear. Catalina decided to walk down to the street once more and head home from there.  \n  \nShe was about to turn left when suddenly a familiar sound filled the air.  \n  \nClack! Clack! Clack!  \n  \nHer eyes drifted to the noise automatically. There he was, that human from before. White jersey, eyebrow slit, earbuds, and a skateboard. He drifted slowly beside the seawall, one foot resting, while the other pushed every couple seconds. His attention stayed on the water, occasionally glancing at people passing by. He never once looked her direction.  \n  \n“...”  \n  \nHuh.  \n  \nShe’d seen him earlier. Outside the record store, and again near the park near the beach. Now he was here. Her eyes narrowed.  \n  \n“That’s strange…”  \n  \nIt wasn’t suspicious, not entirely, but Santa Hidalgo wasn’t exactly tiny. She watched him from the street before the promenade. He smiled at something an elderly dragon had said before continuing on his way, completely unaware she was there.  \n  \nCatalina’s eyes lingered for another second. Maybe he lived nearby. Maybe they both had similar routines. Maybe–  \n  \nRing! Ring! “On your left!” A cyclist rang a bell right beside her.  \n  \nShe moved instantly. “Oh. Sorry.”  \n  \nThe cyclist nodded gratefully before continuing ahead, and when Catalina turned her neck to look back…  \n  \nHe was gone. The human disappeared into the crowd. She blinked once.  \n  \nWeird.  \n  \nHer tail adjusted the satchel on her shoulder, and she continued her way back to her apartment. The thought should have disappeared there. Instead, it stayed with her for several blocks. Just quietly enough to be annoying.\n\n* * *\n\nMarco was swallowed by the city once again, another face wandering Santa Hidalgo’s sidewalks. Somewhere behind him, Catalina disappeared into the crowd just as easily, carrying her surfboard home beneath the late afternoon sun. Neither looked back; the city simply carried on.  \n  \nMoving trucks continued unloading freshmen into dorms across campus. Parents squeezed in one last lecture before saying goodbye. Professors shuffled stacks of untouched syllabi across cluttered desks. Empty classrooms waited patiently for conversations that hadn’t happened yet.  \n  \nThere was only one more day before UCSH fully came alive.  \n  \nOne more day before hallways filled with familiar faces pretending not to be nervous.  \n  \nOne more day before Catalina would reorganize her backpack for what she insisted would be the last time.  \n  \nOne more day before Marco reunited with Di.  \n  \nOne more day before sophomore year starts. Before assignments. Before professors. Before, ordinary moments would become entirely unforgettable."}