Part 25 (1/2)

”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 p.i.s.sed.

”I told you,” I say. I feel the stinging pain that comes with s.h.i.+fting 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 pa.s.sing 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 s.h.i.+t. 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 cla.s.s 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 s.h.i.+t. Forget Rebecca's bratty a.s.s. I mean, did she even-?”

”She was my-first-do not tell the guys. I beg you. I don't even know what G.o.d 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 c.r.a.p, man. Don't tell me you've been holding hands and planning this party all day. Your freaking s.h.i.+rt'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 unders.h.i.+rts 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 gla.s.s 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 s.h.i.+ft 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, slos.h.i.+ng foamy beer down their arms.

”You're Tristan, right?” Brighton Beach girl asks. She has tan lines from wearing her sungla.s.ses on the tower too long.

”Yeah, how'd you know?”