Part 22 (1/2)

”A psychic in your world. I noticed the first day we were here.”

”Oh-”

”So then, let me give Maddy one more try-” Before Layla can punch me again, I add, ”I'm just going to talk to her, not woo her. That's where you come in, Thalia. You stay here with Ryan and convince him he should throw a party.”

”How am I supposed to do that?”

I try to keep the sly grin off my face. ”I'm sure you'll think of something.”

”Really, a party?” Layla gives me att.i.tude.

”There's a madness to my method. I've got this. You, me, and Kurt, we're going to have a little search party on the boardwalk. There's someone I think can help us. And if that doesn't work, we'll have to find a way to get us all to the Coral Conclaves.” I point to the swim team table, where Angelo is the center of attention. ”Because I am not going to share my school with a bunch of bored, wannabe mermaid queens, and especially because I never, ever want to see Angelo do that again.”

Do you think this is a good idea?” Layla asks. We're feet from the entrance to the school. Behind her, Kurt squints against the sun.

Angelo runs past us as if his pants are on fire, which, given today, they probably are. ”I also invited all of your hot cousins to come to Coney Island. Why aren't you being more hospitable, bro? Plus, they say they packed more bikinis than actual clothes.”

Layla rolls her eyes. ”Now that you put it that way.”

Angelo presses his palm over his chest. ”Don't worry, Layla. You'll always be my first love.” He puts out his cheek so that she can kiss it.

”Gee, thaaanks.” She stops an inch short of pressing her lips to his face. ”On second thought, I don't know where that cheek has been all day long.” Laughing, she walks right past him, stepping from the shadow of the school into the light.

”Oh, come on!” He runs out after her. ”It's not like I'm Tristan.”

”Not cool, bro! Not cool!”

”See you suckers at the Wreck!” He takes the steps three at a time. It's surprising he doesn't miss a step at the speed he's going. He crosses the street, where a bunch of cars honk at him. He throws his middle finger in the air and howls at them, jumping into a red car with black flames painted on the side.

”Are werewolves real too?” I wonder. ”'Cause that's just not normal.”

”He's euphoric,” Kurt says. ”He's had the most exposure around the princesses other than-well-you.”

Layla looks surprised that he points to her and then blooms into a playful smile. ”I guess mermen just have no effect on me.”

I stick my hand out in the air and go, ”To the subway, Merman!” in my most dramatic cartoon superhero voice. It's wasted because the only one who laughs is Layla. Kurt watches me with the curiosity I give rats on the subway, and I wonder if we'll have enough time to introduce him to my comic books.

The train station is aboveground. Across the platform is a wall of graffiti that stretches all the way down to Coney. We weave through the late beach crowd, the kids with red, sticky Italian ices, girls reading while two guys try to beat box battle beside them. Watching Kurt fumble with the turnstile and having it hit him on the back is the highlight of my day.

The car we board is fairly empty. A group of extremely loud kids hang out on the opposite end from us. They swing on the metal bars and dare each other to race between cars when the doors open.

”What are you thinking, Kurtomathetis?” Layla stands beside him, holding on to the bars with both hands so she looks extra long.

Even his shrugs are proper. ”It's amazing really, the way these lines represent your city. It's like the channels under the sea, the veins in our bodies connecting everything.”

She looks like something is caught in her throat. Her hand goes right to the protective sh.e.l.l that hangs just under her clavicle.

I could be all poetic and stuff. If I wanted to.

At the next stop an older lady sits beside us in our corner, clutching her frilly purse. She snarls her thin lips at me, just like the old lady in the elevator at the hospital. Unbidden, Nieve's face comes to mind. Her irises, like the white of lightning, her blue lips and b.l.o.o.d.y gums. My temples burn as if someone is holding hot pokers on either side of my head and digging in.

”Tristan!” Layla kneels in front of me. She puts her cool hands on my face. Even with the air conditioning pumping from the vents, I'm sweating.

The old woman pushes past us and gets off when the train stops and the doors open. Well, that was that. The sensation subsides.

”I wish I could stop seeing her.”

”Nieve?” Kurt looks around the car as though we'll be attacked any moment.

What I don't say is that I can feel her getting stronger, that the white of her eyes pulls me in and I need all the strength I have to shut it away.

The conductor shouts, ”West Eighth, New York Aquarium! Next stop, Coney!”

”This is us,” I go.

The kids on the other end of the car shout over something funny someone says. The doors chime open, and we leave them to their unbridled, unworried laughter.

The last time I showed up at the Wreck was the week before the storm. Ryan wouldn't let up about my making an appearance, because if there's someone you want as your wingman, it's gotta be me.

The owner's son, Jimmy Haggerty, mops the bar with a rag that looks like no amount of bleach will ever get it clean. He nods at me in that way guys do, while drying a gla.s.s with the same rag.

The Wreck is the coolest place on the boardwalk, hands down. Angelo and the guys have taken over an entire corner of the place. There is a Mount Everest order of hot wings so red they almost glow.

Kurt takes in the room and says, ”Thalia would enjoy this. It reminds me of Tortuga Cove. Except that there are no pirates here.”

A man in full pirate costume walks in. Pirate Pete and Captain Loveday are part of a tour about the heyday of Coney Island, when the streets were cobblestone and lit up like Vegas. When there was a hotel shaped like an elephant, and the best rickety roller coasters in the entire United States.

”I retract my statement,” Kurt says, breaking into a rare smile.

”Were you really so hungry you had to make a pit stop?” Layla asks, taking a seat closer toward the entrance.

”Relax,” I say. ”I have a good feeling about this.”

Her face becomes an instant smile, the way she used to smile at me before-everything. She squints, and the black fringe of her lashes looks like it's nestling the gold of her eyes. The sun breaks behind me and lights up her cheekbones and the rich browns in her hair. I smile back, even though I don't know what we're smiling about.

Then she says, ”Marty!” and her chair flies back as she practically flies to him.

Marty pulls up a stool beside me. He shakes Kurt's hand and avoids my eyes when he holds out his hand to me.

”Fancy seeing you here,” I go, leaning casually against my chair. ”On land. Out here in the world.”

He slumps down. ”Dammit! Shouldn't you be in school right now?”

I sit up straight. ”Guess today's just my lucky day.” I add, ”Na-na-na, boo-boo,” in a hushed voice so just he can hear it.

Marty fixes his cap from side to side. ”Okay, I promised I'd tell you what I am.”

I'm unable to keep the smugness from my face. ”Let's have it.”