Merman's Kiss (Merman's Kiss, Book 1)

by Dee J. Stone

  I wait a few minutes. But I don’t see anything other than the waves.

  He’s gone.

  Chapter Five

  Leah slides another smoothie across the counter. “I wonder if a person can die from too much fruit and sugar.”

  Frowning, I grab the cup and bite hard on the straw. I’m not even sure what the flavor is this time—I told Leah to surprise me. I don’t taste anything because every part of me is numb. I might as well be drinking water.

  Leah leans in close, her dark brown, wavy hair falling over her shoulder. “What happened last night?”

  I suck hard on the liquid. I can’t believe the mood I woke up in this morning. It almost feels like I was in a serious relationship and had my heart broken. I don’t get it. He was just a merman, a fish from the ocean. Who kissed me. I can still feel his warm lips on mine.

  I rub my forehead. The memories need to vanish from my mind because they aren’t supposed to be there to begin with. A broken heart from a creature I only met for a day? Something is seriously wrong with me.

  Leah mops the counter with a rag. “Remember, you promised,” she half-sings.

  I know, and I plan on telling her. Just right now…I feel like I jumped into the ocean with Damarian, except I drowned while he swam away. And I hate that I feel this way. After Kyle broke up with me four months ago and ripped my heart out of my chest, threw it on the floor and stomped on it, and then shoved it back inside, I promised myself I wouldn’t let myself fall madly in love with anyone. Not unless I was absolutely one thousand percent sure he’s the right guy for me. Now I can’t get a merman out of my head.

  Leah’s eyes fill with concern. “Cassie, I’m really worried about you. What’s going on?”

  I drop money on the counter and slide off the stool. “Meet at the beach after work?”

  “Sure.”

  I turn to leave, but she calls my name. I face her. She lifts the counter and pulls me into a tight hug. “What’s that for,” I mumble.

  “Because I know you’re hurting for whatever reason.”

  That brings tears to my eyes. I stay in her arms for a little bit before picking up my surfboard and heading out to the shore. My students should start arriving soon. I sit down on the wet sand and face the ocean. I stare at the waves, feeling them hit my toes.

  Someone blocks the sun. Shielding my eyes, I raise my head. Uncle Jim stands before me. I hug my knees to my chest and rest my cheek on one. “If you’re going to scold me, don’t bother. I’m in a crappy enough mood as it is.”

  He slowly lowers himself next to me. His leg’s no longer in a cast, but he still has trouble walking. I help him settle down. “I’m not going to scold you, sweetie,” he says.

  Sweetie. Uncle Jim’s not a mushy guy. Something’s up. I look at him. “What’s going on?”

  “Have you spoken to your mother?” he asks.

  She called this morning, but I wasn’t in the mood to talk to her. “Is she staying in Philly for the whole month or something?”

  I mean that as a joke, but the expression on his face doesn’t make this funny.

  I scramble to my feet and glare at him. “Are you serious?”

  “Cassie—”

  I grab my surfboard and run into the ocean. I don’t get it. I’m her kid. I know I’m eighteen and legally an adult, but I’m still a kid. I need my mother. Yes, I’m admitting it—I need my mom. I always have. Growing up without a dad and Mom working crazy, late hours to pay the rent, I never felt like she was really there. It was like she was floating through life, waiting for a big break. Now she landed a decent job with a good company and we can live comfortably without having to worry about money. And she chooses to run. I’m leaving for college in the fall, all the way in Texas. This is really the only time we have together.

  I paddle deeper into the ocean, but I don’t wait for a wave. I don’t jump on my board. I just sit on it with my legs dangling off the sides. For some stupid, idiotic reason, my time with Damarian felt magical, special. Like maybe something good finally happened to me. Now that he’s gone, real life has knocked me over the head and left a lump the size of a beach ball.

  I’m an adult now. I’m supposed to embrace life with open arms and accept everything thrown my way. But I’m not ready. Not at all.

  The waves crash into me. Salt water enters my mouth. I spit it out.

  Squinting toward the beach, I find that most of my students have arrived. I swim back to shore.

  ***

  “Cassie!”

  I turn around and see Leah running toward me. She drops down next to me on the wet sand, but not close enough for the tide to hit her. She’s coming straight from work and hasn’t changed into a swimsuit.

  “What’s up?” she asks.

  I dig my toes into the sand. “Are you ready?”

  “Hell yeah.”

  I start my story. I tell her how I managed to rouse “Angel Guy” from his unconscious state, how he was like a baby learning to walk for the first time. How he developed a rash on his neck and begged for salt water.

  “I didn’t know what to do,” I say, staring down at my toes buried in the sand. “I was freaking out. Then I remembered the sea salt in my basement. You know, when my mom bought me that fish tank for marine fish?”

  She nods. Her eyebrows have been raised since I started the story and have remained that way.

  “He wasn’t an angel,” I say.

  “No, duh.”

  “He was something so much better.”

  Now her eyebrows furrow. “Better than an angel?”

  “You’ll never believe me.”

  “Try me.”

  I draw an image in the sand with my finger. “He turned into…this.”

  Leah bends forward to study it. “A fish? He turned into a fish?”

  I shake my head and point to the tail, circling over the fin.

  Her face shows nothing but confusion. She stares at the picture. Then her green eyes snap to mine. “Mermaid?”

  I swallow. “Merman.”

  Her jaw drops and she looks at me like I’ve really lost it.

  “Don’t say I hit my head when I wiped out.”

  Her mouth moves, but no sound comes out. She stares down at my drawing for a few seconds before focusing her attention back on me.

  “I’m not crazy, Leah. He was swimming in the ocean that night during the storm and he somehow washed ashore. That’s why he was naked. He changed into a human after being out of salt water for too long.”

  Still, her mouth doesn’t move.

  “You even noticed it yourself, how he doesn’t look human. His translucent skin and golden hair. That’s not natural.”

  “Mermaid?” she croaks.

  “Merman,” I correct.

  She shuffles over until she’s right in front of me. The waves crash over her knees, but she doesn’t seem to notice. She’s looking at me with an incredulous expression.

  “He’s back in the ocean now,” I say. “Back with his own kind.” Where he belongs.

  “Mermaid?” she croaks again.

  I laugh as I rub away the image of the mermaid tail. “Merman, Leah.”

  “Rescued you from drowning.”

  “Washed ashore, completely naked. Woke up in my house. Would have died if I didn’t give him salt water.”

  “Mermaids don’t exist,” she says. “This is insane.”

  I hold out my hands. “You can’t deny the evidence. Someone saved me when I wiped out, and it couldn’t have been a person. No one was near me and I was probably sinking to the bottom of the ocean.”

  She hugs her knees and stares out at the waves. “There really are mermaids living out there?”

  I nod. “And they’re intelligent and emotional, just like us.” Not to mention kind and caring.

  She covers her face and laughs. “This is crazy.”

  “I know.”

  She uncovers her face. “Looks like you starred in your very own movie—The Little Merman.”<
br />
  “You can’t tell anyone about this, Leah. Promise me you won’t.”

  “I swear I won’t. What’s his name? Does he have a hot name? He has to have a hot name.”

  “I don’t know if I should tell you…”

  “Aw, Cassie. Please, please, please?”

  I sigh. I can’t ever say no to her when she begs like that. “Okay. Damarian.”

  “Damarian?”

  I nod.

  “Yep. Definitely hot.”

  I laugh.

  We sit in silence for a few seconds, watching others swim in the ocean. Leah turns to me. “Will he be back?”

  I shake my head.

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “They need to hide from us. Washing up on the shore could have been a major disaster. He’ll never risk that again.”

  She nods slowly. “And you’re okay with that?”

  I give her a nonchalant face. “Why shouldn’t I be?”

  “You have a connection to him. He’s your hero, your knight in shining armor—well, your fish in shining scales. And you’re his hero, too.”

  I dig my fingers into the sand and doodle. Then I shrug. “There’s nothing I can do about it.” Tears threaten to prick my eyes, but I push them away. “I guess I feel…I don’t know. Empty.”

  “Why?”

  I draw my knees to my chest and rest my cheek on them. “Ever since I woke up on that boulder, I felt something. I don’t know what, but I knew something saved me. Now I know who it was. I was with him the whole day. He even kissed me. Sort of. Then he just swam away. I’ll never see him again.”

  Leah’s mouth falls. “He kissed you?”

  “It was more like a brush.”

  “That must mean something.”

  I shrug. “Maybe that’s how they say goodbye. I don’t know. I don’t want to think about it. I need to push it out of my head or else I’ll drive myself crazy.”

  She moves closer and lays her hand over mine. She doesn’t say anything else—she doesn’t have to. It’s enough to just have my best friend near me and let me pour my heart out. Having Leah by my side makes me feel less alone.

  Someone clears his throat from behind us. Both Leah and I raise our heads. I blink a few times, not believing who is standing before me. Jet-black hair, tall, tanned chest.

  “Hey,” he says, swallowing so hard that his Adam’s apple bobs.

  “Kyle,” Leah says. Then she shoots me a just-say-the-word-and-he’s-gone look.

  He’s dressed in a wetsuit, carrying a surfboard. A lump forms in my throat as I catch sight of the one he’s holding. Light blue with waves on it. My present to him a few months before he broke my heart. I should snatch it out of his hands, but I pry my gaze away.

  “Hey,” he says again.

  I’m tempted to say, “What do you want, Kyle?” but I bite my tongue and doodle on the sand.

  “How are you, Cass?” he asks.

  We haven’t seen or spoken to each other in a month. Somehow we’ve managed to avoid bumping into each other on the beach. I’m sure that’s all his doing, since he works at a shop near the beach and probably knows my comings and goings.

  Kyle, being ever Mr. Sweet, can’t help himself but ask how his ex is doing. To make sure she hasn’t had an emotional breakdown or whatever. I’d rather eat this wet sand than answer his question.

  I stare straight ahead at the ocean.

  “Hey, Kyle!” someone yells. It’s a pretty redhead, all wet and holding a surfboard. She must have just come out of the water.

  “Well, see ya around, I guess.” He takes off in the direction of the redhead.

  “What a jerk,” Leah mutters. “Has the nerve to ask how you’re doing.”

  “Don’t be too hard on him,” I say, my throat parched as if I did eat sand.

  “See, that’s the problem with you, Cassie. The guy tore your heart out of your chest and left it to rot. You forgive too easily.”

  “I don’t forgive him.” It’s just hard to hate him when he did nothing wrong. He stopped loving me and ended things. He did it the right way.

  Leah goes off on me, but I try not to listen. She’s been saying the same thing ever since he broke up with me—that I need to have a backbone. Trusting guys has always been an issue for me since Dad left my mom for some woman he met online. Now he’s married to her and lives a few miles away with their two kids and however-many pets.

  When I met Kyle at the start of my senior year of high school, I thought he would be that one person, other than Leah, whom I could trust. We had an insane amount of things in common and just understood each other. I really thought he was the right guy for me.

  “You want someone to love you so bad that you’d let him walk all over you.”

  “Leah—”

  “I’ve introduced you to so many great guys. Guys who deserve to have someone like you.”

  “I know. I’m screwed up, okay? We don’t need to go over that again.”

  She takes me in her arms and squeezes me tight. “You’re not screwed up. There’s someone out there for you, and he’ll love you just for you.”

  I bring my arms around her. I want to believe her, but I don’t think it’ll ever happen.

  Chapter Six

  I bring up a Google page and type in “Mermaids.” The first few links that pop up are Wikipedia, images of mermaids, the 1990 movie, and other sites with the same keyword. I check out most of the links on the first two pages, but none of them have any accounts of an actual mermaid.

  I puff out some air and fall back in my chair. If I saw a merman, there has to be someone else in the world who did, too.

  Poising my fingers over the keys, I type “I saw a mermaid.” That brings up a lot of hits. Most seem to be YouTube videos. I click on the first one. It shows a young woman claiming she saw an actual mermaid when she was vacationing in California. She talks about how she swam too far into the ocean with her younger brother and how they saw something odd in the water.

  Then the video shows a girl wearing a fake tail swimming in a pool.

  I roll my eyes and stop the video. Awesome, a fake.

  A whole bunch of similar videos show up. Telling myself to give this another chance, I watch one, then another. When I’ve watched five, I rest my elbows on my desk and bury my forehead in my palms. Maybe I really am the only one in the entire world to have stumbled upon a creature from the sea.

  I’m about to close the webpage when a video catches my attention. I don’t know what it is about it—maybe the expression on the man’s face, the intensity and determination in his eyes. I click on it.

  He looks middle-aged and starts off the video swearing that this isn’t a joke. As much as I want to believe this video may be what I’m looking for, skepticism clouds my mind. Still, I sit back and watch.

  He says he usually wakes up before the other fishermen because he likes to be alone and because he believes he’ll get a better catch at a much earlier hour. Last year (which is really two years ago, since he made the video last year), he was fishing on his boat like he usually did, when all of the sudden he saw something odd in the water. He didn’t pay much attention to it at first, since there are a lot of things in the ocean, but after a minute or two, he saw a shiny green fishtail. He put aside his fishing pole and bent over to take a closer look. He assumed it was a species of fish he hadn’t seen before. But then he saw dark hair and an arm. He thought it was a body and immediately sailed back to shore and got help. They searched the ocean for days, but couldn’t find anyone. That’s when the guy put the pieces together and realized it wasn’t a human, but a mermaid.

  I scroll down the page and read the comments. Most are hateful and call him a liar and an attention seeker. Not that I blame them. The story does sound crazy, and I know I wouldn’t believe him, either. I click on his profile to check out some of his other videos, but he doesn’t have any.

  Could he have been telling the truth? He didn’t say where he lives, so I don’t kno
w if it’s the same ocean I saw Damarian in. I mean, do merpeople live only in the Atlantic Ocean? Are they all over the place like humans? This guy could live all the way on the west coast or something.

  Just as I’m about to check some more videos, hoping for other real stories, my cell phone rings. I scan the screen and my heart drops a little. Mom. I haven’t spoken to her since she left two nights ago. I’m not sure I even want to talk to her. I don’t need to hear how awesome she’s doing now that she’s a free woman.

  But I can never ignore her. I mumble, “Hello.”

  “Hi, sweetie!”

  She sounds way too energetic, like she’s pretending she’s really excited to talk to me.

  “What’s up?” I say.

  “How are you doing?”

  “Fine.”

  She must notice the sarcastic tone, because she says, “Uncle Jim spoke to you.”

  “Mhm.”

  “I’m so sorry, Cass. I really thought I’d be gone for only a week. But Martha put me in charge of a new project she’s introducing—”

  “Got it.” I close the YouTube page and sit back. “So I guess I’ll see you whenever?”

  “Cassie.”

  I sigh. “Sorry.” I don’t mean to lash out at her—I know how much she sacrificed for me when I was growing up. I know how much she missed out. I guess…it’s not that I’m lonely. Okay, maybe a little. Lots of people my age would die to have a place all to themselves. But it’s not all that it’s cracked up to be.

  “Listen, sweetie,” Mom says. “I want you to call your father.”

  I shoot forward in the chair. “Not again.”

  “You’re eighteen now. It’s time to let go of childhood grudges and give your father a second chance. Do you want to regret this for the rest of your life? The ball’s in your court, Cassie. Good night, honey, and I’ll speak to you tomorrow.”

  I wish her a good night and hang up. Getting to my feet, I fall down on my bed and hug a pillow. She’s right. I am holding onto a childhood grudge. How long am I going to punish my dad for something he did years ago? I unlock my phone and scroll through my contacts. He’s listed as “Mark.”