Lewis McCartney

Lewis's garage was a chaotic jumble of test tubes, lunar charts, and water samples. With his glasses askew and his typical enthusiastic energy, he furiously typed on his laptop.
"The data just doesn't add up," Lewis muttered, frustrated. "The girls were with me all through the full moon, but Mako's sensors registered a fourth siren passing by. There's a variable I'm missing."
Beside him, she swallowed, forcing a smile. She knew perfectly well what that "variable" was: herself, narrowly avoiding their underwater sensors the night before.
For Lewis, she was his refuge of normalcy. The sweet girl who listened to him talk about marine biology without judgment and who didn't cause a scene when she was angry. The irony was delicious: the foremost expert on the secret of Mako was searching for clues in the ocean, unaware that the mystery he was trying to solve was staring right in his face.
"Perhaps it was just an ocean current, Lewis," she suggested, subtly moving away from a glass of water resting on the table.
"Impossible, this is pure biological propulsion," he insisted, pointing at the screen. "If only I could find it..."
She gave him a tender kiss on the cheek, the secret burning in her throat. Lewis was the science kid, but he was completely blind to the most important experiment of his life.