Ice

by M.S Watson

  Chapter Eight

  ‘The best people possess a feeling for beauty, the courage to take risks…’

  Ernest Hemingway

  I tried to explain what I could when I brought Lainie back to shore, but for the remainder of the weekend, she didn’t utter a word to me. For the first time since primary school, her statuses were untouched and messages of worry started to appear on her online profile at the conclusion of the first day. Even when school went back on Monday, she was unusually quiet, and her minion Damian kept up conversation on her behalf. She hadn’t showered either, instead preferring to douse her clothes in potent levels of her favourite perfume than risk growing fins in the shower. I vowed that morning to write her a note and let her know she could shower. Apparently only salty sea water changed us. At least I could keep up my position on the swim team, but my surfing career would never again be considered an option.

  ‘Iris!’

  I shook my head, blinking mid-way through removing my books for English. My best friend Fran stood before me, her hand on my shoulder as she shook me from my stupor. She rolled her eyes, offering me a small smile. She looked like she had slept well, her dark African-American skin absolutely glowing with energy. Her deep hazel eyes matched, alert as they watched me. Obviously I was sleep deprived, my head leaning against the locker beside mine as I fought to remain upright. Her lips pursed with concern.

  ‘She’s still not talking to you?’ she asked. I shook my head. I had told her most of what had happened during the weekend, avoiding the finned-instead-of-legs part. She knew I had pushed Lainie into the water, and she couldn’t understand why Lainie wasn’t talking to me still. I simply shrugged as she pondered.

  ‘She’s Lainie,’ I pointed out. ‘She’s certainly unique.’ She laughed in response and I quickly shut my locker. I was late for class. Fran, too. We hurried, turning on our heels in the direction of our classrooms. I had English while she had Algebra, but at the very least they were right next door to each other.

  ‘Look,’ Fran said, ‘I know it’s difficult, but just try and get along. Don’t argue and give her some time and space. She’ll come around. She always does.’ I looked at her hopefully. She could sense there was more to it than I was letting on, but she also knew just what to say. Her advice was priceless.

  ‘Do you really think so?’ I whispered, pausing outside the English doorway. I could hear the drone of the teacher as they introduced some new person to our class. Fran reached across and squeezed my shoulder, her black lace dress swaying when she moved.

  ‘You’re family. She might be angry now, but she’ll get over it,’ she informed me. ‘Stay strong and patient. You’ll see.’

  With a final squeeze and a small smile, she opened the door to her class and stepped inside. I remained in place for a moment longer, lingering after her as her words echoed in my head. Relief coursed through my body as I considered it. She wasn’t just my best friend. She was Lainie’s, too, and she always knew how to make things better. Her knowledge of my sister and I were immeasurable, and I valued her input highly. Had I been acknowledging Nevada, I would have asked her. I shook my head. No, she wasn’t forgiven yet.

  My lips pursed as I grabbed the door handle and pulled, exposing the room to my entrance as I pulled my books tight to my chest. I looked over at the front of the room, finding that the guy who I had seen at Pandora was standing before me. All eyes had left him and were focused on me as I ducked my head, his curious gaze following me as I quickly apologised and made my way to the back of the room. I spotted Lainie death glaring me, quickly returning to face the front as our teacher continued to introduce the new student.

  His name was Xanthias Adair. He came from Miami and was cousin to three girls from my school of the surname Davies. He was a straight-A student. Finally, he was allowed to be released from the front of the room and he trailed up the hall, scanning for a spare seat. His cheeks were slightly reddened with embarrassment and he kept his hair over his eyes, increasing the brightness of the cyan in his irises. When he reached the end closest to me, he met my eyes and smiled, leaving butterflies skittering through my chest. I bit my lip and looked down at my book, my hand itching to grab my pencil and draw to avert my eyes.

  The chair beside me screeched across the floor.

  I didn’t dare move. My chest barely moved as I tried to breathe as little as possible without passing out. From the corner of my eye, I could see his sneakers wrapped around the chair legs and his elbow resting on the table. The scent of cologne gently wafted over from him, not in the intrusive way that many males attempted in order to cover over their body odour, but in the way that was just right. Only when he eventually moved to remove his books from his bag did I chance a glance over at him, watching his muscles ripple under the dark material of his shirt. His skin was more pale than I would have imagined from someone that lived in Miami, but then again I was simply jumping to conclusions. I scanned him, taking in a general overview of his physique when I came across a long, jagged scar that ran the length of his forearm.

  ‘Hello.’ I jumped. When my eyes focused I noticed that I had been staring at him. He smiled, drinking in my surprise at being caught. I felt like a deer caught in headlights, my heart racing as our eyes held. His crinkled at the edges when he smiled, leaving him with an appearance of intense joy and happiness. I offered him a sore excuse of a smile in return, blushing as I finally relinquished to my itching hand and drew over my book. My cheeks burned as I felt him staring.

  For the remainder of English, I ignored him. He didn’t try to speak to me further, for which I was grateful. I already felt embarrassed enough for what I had done during the weekend, let alone during class. When the end of class was announced by the drone of shoes against floors, I jogged from the classroom and didn’t stop until I was in front of my locker. I couldn’t get away fast enough, not even stopping when I almost bowled Fran over as she exited her own classroom. She called after me but I was already gone.

  Only when I was shutting my locker did she manage to catch up to me, slamming her hand on the locker beside mine. Her eyes were narrowed as she tossed her books haphazardly in the open locker, crushing my bag with their weight. Her hands settled around her crossed arms, head cocked to the side.

  ‘Why the big hurry Speedy Gonzales?’ she questioned, her thin frame towering over me. I didn’t have time to answer her though, because the new guy Xanthias followed his cousins past my locker. He smiled at me before I could look away, earning myself a set of flaming cheeks and Fran’s gaping face staring at me. I bit my lip and shoved her books aside, grabbing my bag from within.

  She stepped in my way as I tried to escape. ‘Oh, no you don’t,’ she managed. ‘You’re going to tell me every little detail of new guy Juicy Boy right there. He’s smitten over you, and you know it!’ She grabbed my shoulder and tried to steer me away but I shook my head. The last thing I needed right now was to be around people, and that unfortunately included Fran.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I apologised, shaking my head. ‘I have to go. I’ll talk soon.’

  Before she had an opportunity to reply, I was out of the doors and in my car, taking in the leaves that were beginning to settle against my car’s windshield. It wouldn’t be long until I couldn’t escape to the ocean for solitude, but until then I would swim until I couldn’t stand it anymore. With a mission on my mind, I veered out of the car lot and toward Atlantic Beach.

  It was cold this afternoon for summer, but there were still some beach goers lingering along the water’s edge. They braved the piercing winds, whipping sand and sea spray through their hair and clothes, lashing against their skin painfully. I didn’t go onto the beach, instead choosing to linger near the bridge where a family were out for a pleasant afternoon stroll. I couldn’t believe how the weather had changed, from sweltering heat last week to freezing winds this week. I had no doubt that winter would be coming early this year, even though summer break hadn’t even started yet. The water felt the change
s before the wind exemplified it.

  I couldn’t help but watch the family curiously. They looked worse for wear, their clothes torn and dirty, stained in places with what appeared to be crude oil. The grime didn’t stop simply at their clothes. It marred the faces of the parents, and even their daughter’s. She couldn’t have been any more than five, grinning widely with yellowed teeth. She darted about the bridge, grabbing onto the banister and almost flinging herself head over heels before jumping down and returning to her parents. They didn’t appear to care, which worried me greatly as she teetered repeatedly over the edge. Not once did they call her back, her sweaty hands slipping on the banister. Finally, she ran further down the bridge, slipping her feet onto the highest bars of the banister.

  ‘Look at me!’ she called back to her emotionless parents. Her arms swung out wide. ‘I’m on the Titanic-’

  Within a moment her calls turned to screams as she lost her grip and tumbled over the edge. Finally her parents appeared to come to life as they ran forward, reaching down in an attempt to catch her. She plummeted toward the churning, dark water below and broke the surface with a thwack!

  I didn’t think as her parents yelled at each other. Neither of them could swim. I didn’t even strip down to my swimmers as I ran to the bridge and plummeted in after her. My swimming training kicked in and I sliced into the water, my body hardly presenting any drag. Under the water I blinked away the bubbles and felt as my fins tore through my shorts, forming a single blue-lilac entity. My eyes were wide as I scanned the water desperately, tuning into the harmonics of the water’s movements as I tried to get a hold on where she was. Finally, my ears received a series of gurgled screams as a response and I turned.

  Through the darkness I could barely make out two shapes. One was obviously the young girl, her thrashing growing less as she fought to keep to the surface. Yet the other appeared to be much larger and loomed over her in a shimmer of movement. I flicked my tail, using the tough muscles to power me toward her. For a moment, I thought the looming figure was a shark, but as I approached I discovered that it was actually a finned figure.

  Their fins were golden, like a lion’s mane in the sunshine and the masculinity of one, too. He moved with grace and precision, his arms encompassing the child’s newly unconscious form and he gently pressed a kiss upon her forehead, leaving her suddenly able to breathe. She coughed on the salty sea water, and as I watched from the distance, I saw his fins as they suddenly shimmered brightly and formed two separate entities. I blushed, realising that the figure was completely unclad. Thankfully I wasn’t close enough to make out any distinctions other than that his fins were gone, and he turned to face me as the child began to open her eyes.

  I froze. He froze. Everything froze.

  Literally, time froze. It was disorienting, no longer hearing the rush of the water against my ears and seeing the entire world on pause. I felt my energy draining and my mind quickly melting into shock, but in that moment I was finally able to make myself move. Moving through frozen water was like having my body set in cement. With each movement, I slowly made a few centimetres’ progress through the hardened jelly-like substance that was the ocean. My breath was frozen, like the rest of the ocean around me, but I found that I wasn’t breathless at all. Finally, I managed to make a decent amount of distance and my heart finally began to beat.

  Like a rubber band snapping, time returned to normal and my body slackened, my muscles turning to runny jelly. I fought to keep myself in place, my eyes focused on the face before me. Dark hair rimmed mysterious cyan eyes and I knew who he was. I recognised him instantly, even though I had only seen him a few times. He recognised me, too, because his eyes flashed with recognition and in an instant, he was making his way around the land to the beach. There were people there. There were people to help her. She was safe.

  With that realisation dawning in my mind, I finally broke out of my stupor and quickly darted back in the direction of the docks. I didn’t care that I had left my car at the beach, nor that I would be up for a long walk back to retrieve it. Thankfully my car key wasn’t electronic, pressed tight in my shirt pocket as I swam as fast as I could. It was overcast and began to rain when I reached the docks. Macy was outside, her washing hung over the edge of the boat as she quickly locked up the boat and tied it securely to the docks. The boat creaked as it knocked against the docks and I quickly noted where Macy was.

  In a single surge of energy, I pushed myself from the water and reached for the towel closest to me. It was windy enough that the semi-dry towel could be assumed as having blown away, I thought as I snatched it. My body quickly descended back into the water with a splash and I vowed that I would return it to her after tonight’s storm passed.

  After making sure that the coast was clear, I quickly yanked myself out of the water and onto the green grass across the street from my house. I landed with a thud on the ground, firmly securing the towel around my fins as my legs appeared in their place. Sea spray lashed up at me as I made my way across the street and onto the front porch, my body shaking with cold as I let myself in and clambered up the stairs.

  Following a lovely, warm shower, I found myself sitting downstairs with a mug of hot chocolate and lightning dancing all around the house. Silently, I was kicking myself. My car was still at Atlantic Beach, probably getting towed away or destroyed by the storm. All I knew was that I had no hope of driving it to school in the morning. I sighed, shutting my eyes as I settled into the warm couch by the window. All the lights remained off. I was the only one home, and I quite enjoyed it that way. I sighed contentedly and almost drifted off to sleep when my phone beeped beside me. It was Fran.

  The Davies want to speak with you. I gave them your number because they said they were urgent. Sorry. Goodnight darl’.

  Franny.

  I shuddered. The Davies. Xanthias’ relatives.

  Perhaps it would be a good thing. I needed answers that Xanthias obviously had. Maybe they were all in on it, and it was some kind of massive operation. Top secret. Maybe I would be an undercover agent and this was my way of spying. Who would ever believe someone who thinks they see a mermaid on their radar? The more I thought about it, the more appealing it became.

  Yeah, I thought to myself with a small smile. I could do that. I could be a spy.

  These Davies would have answers, I was sure of it. But first thing was first. I leaned over to my phone where I had tossed it without a thought, dialing my sister’s number. She didn’t pick up, her prim voice picking up for the answering machine. The recorder beeped as it began taping my message.

  ‘Call me,’ I said.