I stop and flip her over so we’re face-to-face. She puts her hands
on my chest.
“Stop,” she says in a whisper I can barely make out over the
rustle of the water. “Stop doing this.”
“I’m not doing anything.” I’m barely touching her, just trying to
hold her afloat.
“Yes, you are,” she says, still pulling herself closer to me like
a rope she’s trying to climb.
“I’m not.”
“You’re doing some mer -thing.”
“Layla, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Then why do I feel this way?” She looks away sadly.
“Please, look at me.” I cradle her cheek in my palm. “What way?”
I could lean in and kiss her if I wanted to. She might kiss me
back for real this time. Her hands shake in mine. I press her closer
so there’s no water between us. She’s weightless against me. My skin
is hot everywhere we’re touching. I can’t stand it anymore. I part my
lips and lean down at the same time she lifts her face up.
The force of her mouth on mine pushes us back. I’ve never had to
balance myself on one tail before. I push us backward, and we sink
into the water. She gasps for breath once and keeps her lips parted
against mine. She runs her hands all along my arms, and I trace the
soft length of her spine. My gills flare as quickly as my heartbeat. I
want to hold this moment, just this, for as long as she’ll let me.
Then she pushes me away, holding her last breath in her puffed
cheeks. I let her go, and she reaches out for the surface. She slaps
the water and lets loose with an angry and frustrated scream. She
swims toward the rocks. In her pink lace underwear, she pulls herself
out of the water and puts her clothes back on. They cling to her in
wet patches. She wrings out her hair at the same time that she walks
away from me.
“What did I do wrong? I thought it was pretty stellar.”
“You know exactly what you’re doing, Tristan Hart.” And there it
is. She says my whole name the way she does when she’s pissed.
“I told you,” I say. I feel the stinging pain that comes with
shifting back into my legs. I have to paddle before the numbness on my
feet goes away. I push against the tide that’s pulling. There are
still scales on my legs. When I brush them, they crumble into sand. “
I said , I’m not doing anything.”
She grabs my clothes off the rocks and throws them at me. “I don’t
believe you. You’re putting some kind of spell on me or something. I
saw how those princesses make people act. Like lunatics. It isn’t
funny to make people feel whatever you want them to. I’m not just one
of those girls you pick up and then toss aside after you get bored
with them. I’m not-”
There’s so much fury in her voice that I’m too stunned to say
anything. What can I say, other than to keep denying it? How can I
make her see that she kissed me back all on her own? Her eyes gloss
over, but I know she’s not going to cry. She’s too strong to cry.
She turns around and leaves me with my heart still in my throat,
my feet sinking deeper and deeper into the sand.
A couple runs toward Layla and me. I’ve followed her to the
boardwalk, where the others are waiting. They weave through the rows
of garbage cans, holding sizzling sparklers in each hand.
“We’ve been looking all over for you guys,” Ryan says. The red
rawness of his lips and the sheen in his blue eyes hints otherwise.
“Angelo and the guys are setting up at my house. My folks have gone to
our North Carolina house for their anniversary. Who are they ?”
Behind us, the Vampirettes, Frederik, and Marty disappear into the
Luna Park entrance.
“Just new friends,” I say.
Thalia and Layla each grab Kurt by a hand and start walking away
from the shops, past the parachute tower and the Cyclones field and
toward Sea Breeze.
Ryan walks with heavy feet and his eyes on the ground. He flicks
the dead sparkler stick into a passing garbage can and sighs.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, because he clearly wants me to. It’s not
that I don’t care, but I’ve got my own girl problems.
“I just-Do you think I have a chance with her?”
For a moment, I’m tempted to be a real friend and fill him with
“go get her, guy” pride. But then I remember that Thalia isn’t my
cousin. She’s a mermaid, and she’s eternal. I remember the promise she
asked me to make. I didn’t exactly say yes, but I didn’t say no
either. I’d have to be king before I could decide that. Sure, she
feels this way now, but what about in a couple of days? Just then
Layla glances back at me, and I get that choking feeling again, like
my heart jumps up and gets stuck. I know how fast feelings can change.
I go, “Remember the Rebecca incident?”
“Rebecca was different. She was a brat. She thought just because
my parents have money that I’d be like her other boyfriends and buy
her jewelry and shit. All my money is in a bank account that I can’t
withdraw from until I start college. Which I may not live to go to if
they ever find out I cut class today and threw a party.”
“You don’t have to prove anything, you know.”
“Oh, come on, Tristan.” He puts his hands in his pockets and kicks
the sidewalk as we walk. “White Bread? Wonder Ryan? I know they’re
just jokes, but sometimes the guys get out of hand with it.”
My insides pang a little with guilt. “They are jokes. It’s not
your fault everyone thinks you’re a stuck-up white kid from the only
gated community in Brooklyn.”
“You’re white and your parents have nice things.”
“Yeah, but I get all the guys dates.”
At least that gets a laugh out of him. He shrugs. “I guess. I
guess she makes me feel cool. The way she looks at me. Your family has
strong genes. The iris colors-”
I can’t have Ryan questioning our family heritage too deeply. I
pat him on the back a little too hard. “Forget all that. Forget Jerry
and Bertie and their shit. Forget Rebecca’s bratty ass. I mean, did
she even-?”
“She was my-first-do not tell the guys. I beg you. I don’t even
know what god you pray to, but swear on him, please. And do not tell
Thalia.”
“I won’t. Cross my heart. Let’s pray on one of the Hindu guys.
They don’t get enough attention.”
The smell of ocean is strong. The waves crash hard. My lungs
welcome the sea air, with bits of sand carried in the breeze. But then
I get a whiff of a familiar stink-the rotting fish smell of the
merrows. I wonder if they’re out there waiting for me. Suddenly, I
don’t think this party is such a good idea.
“I just wish she lived here, you know? Then I’d be sure that we
could have something.”
I think of Layla and me kissing. We didn’t think. We just went for
it. Granted she thinks I’m putting a mer-spell on her and is mad at
me, but that’s because she’s scared of what she feels. I deserve it, I
know. But I’d rather have her hate me until she comes around than
never have kissed her at all.
“Cut the crap, man. Don’t tell me you’ve been holding hands and
planning this party all day. Your freaking shirt’s inside out. Just
have fun together. Be a man. Show her how much you like her. I mean,
if you left Angelo alone in your house to set up for a party, you’re
definitely braver than I thought.”
Farther down the street, where the boardwalk comes to a rocky end,
are the biggest houses in Sea Breeze. They’re so new you can still
smell exterior paint drying on the window shutters.
Ryan’s front lawn is packed with spiky-haired dudes in white