everywhere in the world, so it always feels like you’ve already been
there. Angelo and his big Italian family, Layla and her Greek and
Ecuadorian parents, Jerry and his Puerto Rican parents. Bertie and his
crazy Jamaican grandmother who likes to chase us off their front porch
with a broom and call us batti boys.
Kurt points to the water near Florida. “There’s an oracle here.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I do.” His reply doesn’t come out snooty, but there’s
more than he’s saying. Knowing Kurt, he’s not going to give anything
away. Keepers of the deep. Right. More secrets. “I mean, I’ve been
there.”
“How long would it take to swim down there?” Dad asks my mom. “I
mean, it’s a little over eight hundred miles on land, but then if you
consider-” He stares ahead, mumbling, which he does when he’s solving
my math problems. “Maybe seven days without stopping.”
“You’re forgetting the channels,” Kurt says.
“You lost me at channels ,” I go.
“When you get deep enough, there are currents that break through
the water and form paths that run all over the earth.” Mom walks
around the table and points to New York. “If I remember correctly,
there’s a channel south of Staten Island that leads to the Great Coral
Caves. Is that where the oracle is, Kurt?”
“She’s there. It’s only been a few years.”
“A few human years or a few mermaid years?”
He sighs, exasperated. “A few human years. Thirty, maybe. She
should still be there. If we find the sightless oracle and give her
your pearl as a gift, especially if she coveted it as you said-”
“Let me go get it,” Mom says.
Oh god. I should tell her. No time like the present. “Mom?”
“Yes, honey?”
“Was the pearl strung on a thin silver necklace?”
“Yes, it was in my treasure ch-”
“Well-”
“Please, please tell me you gave it to Layla,” she pleads.
The knot in my stomach is tighter. “Actually, I gave it to Maddy.”
“Tristan!” She reaches out her hands as if she could wring my
neck, which she should.
“I didn’t think it was important. You have so much stuff in there,
and remember when I was trying to get Cindy Rodriguez to go out with
me and you let me pick something out so I could give it to her for
Valentine’s Day? And the tiara for Maddy’s Sweet Sixteen?”
She grunts and balls her hands into fists. Dad flips the pages of
his newspaper, his way of telling me, Don’t look at me, son. This is
your mess. Fix it.
Kurt shrugs. “So get it back from her.”
Even Thalia laughs at the suggestion. “From what I’ve gathered
from the girls at your school and her general disdain toward you,
you’ll be lucky if she hasn’t already burned it, sold it, or simply
thrown it out.”
I shake my head. “She doesn’t throw things out. She’s super
sentimental. She keeps everything that means something to her.”
“That girl is going to need counseling because of you!” Mom starts
throwing dishes into the sink. They fall so hard that I cringe,
waiting for one of them to break.
“I’ll get it back.” I guess we really are going to school today.
“Don’t worry.” But even as I say it, I’m not sure I can convince
myself.
Dad honks twice as he pulls away, leaving Kurt, Thalia, and me
staring at the steps that lead up to the school entrance guarded by
clashing angels.
Some kids are jaywalking away from the school. It’s the first
sunny day in a week, so half the school must be doing the in-’n’-out,
walking into the building just for show before turning right around
and heading to the park, Coney, the mall, or if you’re my friends, the
kosher Mexican restaurant on Sunset with the hot Mexi-Jewish girl
behind the counter.
I’m thinking about how I can get the pearl back from Maddy when
she won’t even talk to me. Adaro and the others are probably halfway
around the world, and I’m back at high school. Some things just aren’t
right.
Someone shouts my name across the street. Kurt and Thalia’s hands
hover over the daggers at their waists, which they say are glamoured
from the human eye. My dagger is in my backpack, because I may have
seen a lot of shit in the past couple of days, but this whole glamour
business still gets me.
“Ryan!” Thalia shouts, forgetting about the weapon and taking a
step forward.
Wonder Ryan runs against the traffic. Thalia’s face is as bright
as the noon sun when she sees him. I’m surprised they aren’t running
toward each other in slow motion.
“Hi!” I know his hello includes me and Kurt, but he only looks at
Thalia. He’s wearing a T-shirt the color of asphalt and new jeans. His
hair is messier, not as slicked to the side as usual. “I missed you.”
“So did I.”
“Yeah,” I smirk, “so did I.”
Kurt shoves me away toward the entrance, and we share a laugh. I’d
never admit that watching them makes my insides feel like beef jerky,
like I’m shriveling up because I don’t have someone looking at me like
that. I can only think of one face I want to see. And when she comes
into view, my heart sinks, because she’s getting out of a white BMW
with tinted windows and a license plate that spells PUMPITUP. Suddenly
I remember Alex, the orange guido from the beach who helped find me.
Fire creeps over my skin. Even my dagger tucked into my backpack hums
as though it feels how ticked off I am.
“What’s wrong?” Layla asks, slinging her backpack over one
shoulder.
“Nothing,” I say with a shrug. If she’s not going to tell me that
she’s seeing someone, then fine. “Did you get in trouble?”
“I told my dad I was with Maddy. Her mom unplugs the phone at
night, so it’s not like they called. Still, he was super mad.”
“Hello,” Kurt says, all stiff and merman-y.
She smiles at him and says, “Today might be boring, after
yesterday.”
“I look forward to human pleasantries, actually. First, Tristan
needs to acquire something from the angry blond girl.”
Before Layla starts breathing fire at me, I go, “I’ll explain.”
The school bells chime and we ascend the steps.
“Hey, Tristan,” a girl calls out to me in the hallway. I don’t
know her name, but I wave.
Ryan slaps my arm, “Dude, Coach said he’s going to pull us out of
class again for practice. Luis texted me the announcements already.”
“Isn’t it great to be in charge?” Layla asks. They all fall into a
giddy stride walking into the school. Though arriving back home didn’t
feel any different, coming back to school does. There’s something
different about the walls, the lighting, the way my classmates’
emotions fill the sterile air. Or maybe it’s just me and my guilt
pangs over having to break my ex-girlfriend’s heart all over again.
•••
“You’re officially being weird,” Layla tells me, gathering her
hair into a bun for practice.
“I’m a weird guy,” I say, stretching my arms to either side, “in
case you didn’t notice.”
“You know,” she smirks, “I still haven’t seen you as a mermaid.”
Her laugh is small, forced. Her nervousness smells like birthday
candles after they’re extinguished.
“I’m all man, lady,” I try to joke, but it comes out angry and she
shrinks back. “I’m sorry.”
She dismisses me with her hands and says, “Whatever,” before
diving into the pool.
What the hell happened? A few hours ago she was all over me and
now…What did I do wrong?