undershirts and spray tans that border on toxic. They’re surrounded by
girls in micro shorts and bikini bottoms meant to showcase winking
belly rings and tramp stamps.
The crowd spills into the living room, where Steve, the school’s
radio DJ, is set up. A guy with floppy blond hair is jumping on the
couch. A pillow comes out from somewhere and hits him right on the
head, knocking him on top of a group of girls, who roll him right back
onto the carpet.
We follow Ryan through double doors leading to the kitchen. On the
smooth marble countertop is a keg with rows and rows of red and blue
plastic cups lined up. Angelo runs in chasing one of the princesses,
Kai. They push against the glass doors leading to the backyard pool
and head out. Kai holds her knees and then shoots her hands in the air
as she dives in, dress and all.
“Don’t worry. She won’t shift here,” Kurt says beside me.
“She’s the least of my worries,” I say. “Do you spot Maddy?”
He shakes his head. “Can’t you smell her?”
Then I realize I don’t remember what she smells like. Despite my
new Mighty Merman senses, I don’t think I even noticed.
We step into the backyard. Tiki lights line the bushes. Soft blue
lamps surround the pool, which even has a tiny waterfall. It’s almost
like being back on Toliss. Layla gets called over by a group of
lifeguards from the Brighton Beach side. They whisper something in
Layla’s ear, and she brushes them away with a cute little laugh.
I wonder what they asked her. Whatever it is, she finds my eyes
through the crowd. It’s not like she’s never looked at me before.
She’s been looking at me for the past sixteen years. But now she
really looks at me, and I can’t hear anything except my heart pulsing
in my ears. How can she think this isn’t real?
The girls wave us over, sloshing foamy beer down their arms.
“You’re Tristan, right?” Brighton Beach girl asks. She has tan
lines from wearing her sunglasses on the tower too long.
“Yeah, how’d you know?”
“I remember seeing your picture right after, you know, the storm.
In, you know, the papers.”
I forgot I was a local celebrity. “What’s your name?”
“Cindy.”
“This is my cousin Kurt.”
Kurt waves at them, tucking his hair behind his ear. His body
tenses as he fights the urge to bow. Layla catches it too, because
she’s smiling at him.
“It’s so weird seeing you without your uniform,” Cindy says,
pointing down at me.
“Actually,” I go, “the real uniform is under here.” And even as I
say it, I want to bite my lip. I can feel Layla’s eyes burning holes
into the side of my face. Why do I even say things? Why, Tristan? Why?
Cindy giggles. “Ohmigod, you’re so funny !”
“He’s hilarious,” Layla says flatly. “Aren’t you supposed to be
looking for something?”
She’s jealous. Of course she’s jealous. She gives me all this crap
about how I make her feel this way, but if I accidentally flirt with
someone else, I’m the bad guy.
“Duty calls,” I say, leaving the other lifeguards with
question-mark faces and Layla trying her best to not smile at me.
Inside, the steady bass of a hip-hop song makes everyone bob their
heads without even realizing they’re doing it. Up the beige carpeted
steps, there’s a line for the bathroom. I don’t even bother trying to
wait. A door is cracked open to my left. The room is all white and
light blues, from the walls to the duvet. The wind blows through the
balcony window, the temperature having dropped quite a bit since this
afternoon. I know Maddy isn’t here. I know I need to be looking for
her. But I have sand in places sand shouldn’t be.
I rummage through my backpack for underwear, but I forgot to pack
it. Great. Fine. I don’t need underwear. I’m a merman, after all. As I
step out of my shorts to take my Speedo off, I catch the light scent
of smoke, something sweet like burning flower petals.
The curtains blow open more, and this time someone steps forward
from the window. I stumble to get my cargo shorts on and end up
slipping on the soft carpet.
“Very smooth,” her pretty voice murmurs from where she stands.
Gwen’s white-blond hair is weighed down with salt water and sand. She
puffs rings of purple smoke past her pink lips.
“What the hell, man?” I finish pulling my shorts on, trying to
mask the embarrassment creeping its way up my torso. Not that I have
anything to be embarrassed about, but still.
“I’m no man, Tristan,” she says, tracing the shape of her
silhouette. She’s in a bikini that looks like it’s all made of crochet
and pink sequin, like if it moved at all, you could see the little
bits that she’s hiding. She hooks her thumb on the sheer
silver-and-gold wrap thing around her hips. “In case you can’t tell
yet.”
“It’s just something to say.”
“You seem jumpy. Come, have a smoke.”
I don’t know why I look at the door, as if someone is going to
come and tell me not to do what I’m about to do. I’m not doing
anything wrong. I pull my backpack on and follow her through the
curtain. Form here we can see everyone in the backyard, on the
boardwalk, and on the bit of the beach that’s in front of the house.
“You missed the sunset,” she says. “It was exceptionally beautiful
today.”
“Yeah?” I reply, just for something to say.
“It’s my favorite time of day.”
“The end of it?”
“The beginning of night.”
“What are you doing here, Gwen?” I don’t know why I keep asking
her that. I like having her around, I’ve decided. She’s not like
everyone else around me.
“I have nowhere else to go.” There’s something raw about the way
she says it. The automatic light above the balcony goes off. “I spent
all day swimming. Went to court for a bit to see if they had news of
Elias.”
At the mention of his name I look away. Down by the pool a guy
picks up a girl and throws her into the water. Her top comes off with
the force of it, but she just holds her hands in the air and woo-hoos.
“No news?”
She shakes her head.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t seem so upset.”
I tuck a bit of hair behind her ear, and when I do, I see
something I would never notice unless I was this close to her. Right
over the razor-thin slits where her gills would be is a long scar that
runs from the opening of her ear down to her clavicle. It nearly
blends into her, so it looks like a thick vein of extra skin. It
must’ve hurt like hell.
It startles both of us. That I would touch her so absentmindedly.
That I would even notice.
“That was an accident,” she says.
“Someone accidentally tried to cut you open?” I don’t know why,
but I’m suddenly angry for her. I don’t want to ask if it was Elias,
if this is the real reason she doesn’t care that he might be missing.
That he’d never be around to do this again.
“Would you be able to do it?” she starts. “If you were forced to
marry a man and pretend that you cared about his every whim, his every
mood, every desire-And if I didn’t do as he asked, fixed things to his
liking with my magic-”
“Actually I don’t think I’d ever be forced to marry a man.”
She punches me lightly, but at least it makes her smile.
“Elias swam into our palace with sea-horse loads of gold. Somehow
he knew of me. He wanted me. And my father gave me away without even