Merman's Forever

by Dee J. Stone

  She knows I don’t like to talk about my mom, and never pressures me. We’ve been friends since kindergarten, but after everything that happened four months ago, we’ve drifted apart. It’s my fault, not hers. She’s been trying really hard to be there for me, and I appreciate it. I just can’t deal.

  “He’s going to surprise me,” she says with a smile.

  “Have fun,” I say.

  “Thanks. Are you absolutely sure you’re okay?”

  I force a smile. “Totally.”

  We hug before I leave the restaurant and walk through the July heat to my apartment. I live in Brooklyn, five blocks away from work. The people passing by don’t seem to notice anything wrong with my hand. Do they not see the lamp, either? I give it a tug to check if it’s real. It is. What the hell is wrong with me?

  After throwing my front door open, I go straight to my room for Vaseline. I put some on and try to yank my fingers off the lamp. They won’t budge. This is crazy. I’ll have no choice but to try to smash the thing. In the kitchen, I’m about to slam it down on the granite countertop, when it suddenly flies off my hand and drops to the floor. It rolls around like it has a mind of its own. A second later, smoke starts to shoot out of it. It’s so thick that it fills up my entire kitchen. It has a strong smell of exotic spices.

  The smoke enters my lungs and I fall to my knees, clutching my chest and coughing.

  “State your wish,” a voice says.

  The smoke disappears from my lungs and I can breathe again. When I look up, I see a tall guy standing above me with his arms crossed over his chest. I scramble back. He looks about my age, has long dark hair that falls into his blue eyes and an expression of annoyance, yet respect at the same time. He has golden skin. My gaze dips to his chest. His naked golden chest. He has nothing on except for long, black pants. No shoes, either. My eyes spring back to his chest and my breath gets caught in my throat. He’s beautiful. Exotic looking.

  “I said, state your wish.”

  I tear my gaze off his chest, my cheeks warming up. “W…what?”

  The smoke is completely gone from the kitchen. The lamp is still on the floor, but it’s no longer moving. Did this guy come from it?

  “State your wish so I can get out of here.”

  I get up. “Wish? What are you talking about?”

  He makes a face like he’s done this a million times and is bored out of his mind. “You rubbed the lamp. I’m here to grant you three wishes.”

  I back up into the counter behind me. I won’t believe this. I can’t. My head spins. “You’re a…genie?” That’s impossible. Genies don’t exist.

  “Uh huh. Here to grant you three wishes. So let’s get this over with, Master.”

  His chest gleams under the strong kitchen light. As he crosses and uncrosses his arms, his muscles flex.

  He sighs loudly. “When you make up your mind, give the lamp a rub.” Smoke appears once again, surrounding him.

  “Wait!”

  But it’s too late. He’s gone.

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  Read on for an excerpt from Mark of Platos, now available on Amazon!

  Chapter One

  Someone or something is chasing me.

  I can feel his hot breath on my back, his large feet stomping behind me. But I don’t look back. I can’t. When I did a few minutes ago, I saw yellow, snake-like eyes that looked like they could devour me whole.

  I want to yell, but no sounds come out. I don’t know where I am. I’m pretty sure in a forest, since many trees surround me and twigs snap under my feet. But that’s about all I know. Not who’s after me or what he wants.

  I need to get somewhere safe.

  He grunts and huffs behind me. My own breath is heavy, my chest aches, my limbs are on fire. I swear I’m seconds away from collapsing to the ground.

  Run, Lizzy, my mind yells. I don’t know to where. Maybe that cave in the distance is the only chance I’ve got.

  Fingers close over my wrist, and I’m yanked to the side. A hand clamps over my mouth, and all I see are deep blue eyes gazing into mine.

  Heart pounding, I jump up in bed and look around. I’m in my room, safe. It was just a dream.

  I shudder. A dream that felt so real.

  “Lizzy,” a voice calls, along with the birthday song. The door opens and Mom walks in with a bright smile on her face. “There’s my birthday girl.” She sneaks in some kisses. “I know you’re sixteen and too old for this, but I don’t care.” She kisses me again.

  I just lie there, staring at the ceiling, reliving that dream over and over again. What did it mean? Who was chasing me? And who was that person with those intense blue eyes?

  “Lizzy? Is everything okay?”

  Groaning, I turn to the other side of my bed. Whatever that was, I need to forget about it. It was just a dream.

  She lifts my blanket to whisper in my ear, “Remember our date tonight?”

  Though my eyes are heavy with sleep, I smile. Mom and I are going to spend my birthday the same way we do every year, something we’ve been doing since I was a little kid. Eat out at a fancy restaurant after school, just the two of us. Try out dishes with names we can’t pronounce, catch up on what’s going on in our lives, and talk about our best memories. Then I’ll come home to the apartment decorated for my party.

  “Get up and let’s get this exciting day started, Lizzy.” Mom pats my arm through my blanket.

  Another groan. This may be an important day for me—sweet sixteen and all—but I still have to get through school first. It’s not that bad. I mean, I have a best friend who’s great and I’m a good student. But still, it’s high school.

  I finally drag myself out of bed as Mom leaves my room. After washing my face in the bathroom, I study my reflection in the mirror. Blonde hair down to my shoulders, the exact shade as Mom’s. Big, brown eyes just like Mom’s, too. Except mine are too big for my face.

  I don’t know who my father is or what he looks like. Mom refuses to talk about him. Every time I want to demand answers, I catch the pain in her eyes. It seems he’s more than your average jerk who abandoned the woman he got pregnant. No, whatever happened between my parents must have been bigger than that. Like maybe he’s from the CIA and he and my mom had a fling one summer. Or maybe he’s a hero who died saving people’s lives. I tell myself he has to be someone amazing because that’s the way I want to feel about him.

  As soon as I leave the bathroom, the smell of pancakes attacks my nose. Mmm. Mom usually doesn’t have time to make breakfast—she works in one of the largest hotel chains in New York City—so I either eat cereal or drink a glass of orange juice. But she makes time on my birthday.

  She must hear my footsteps moving closer to the kitchen, because she starts singing that lame birthday song again. I have to give her props for her amazing voice. Me? I sound like a toad that choked on a fly.

  “Sit down, birthday girl,” she sings as she places a stack of blueberry pancakes before me.

  “Thanks, they look awesome.”

  She sits across from me and we dig in. I fall back on my chair and sigh. These are seriously the best pancakes in the world.

  “You should really talk to your boss about making these for the hotel,” I say as I gobble one down. “You’d make a fortune.”

  She waves her hand, trying to hide a pleased smile.

  I’ve been telling her this since I could talk, but she always brushes it aside. It’s like she wants to stay off the radar for some reason. Like she doesn’t want to bring attention to herself or me. I once asked her about it and she told me I was talking crazy. But it’s not just about the pancakes. We’re not registered in the phone book, we shop at a different grocery store every week. We’ve moved around a lot, too (this is my sixth home, though we’ve been here for two years). I tell myself it’s because she and my CIA dad had a romantic excursion that may have put him or her at risk, so we’re keeping things on the down-low.

  “I’d better go or I’ll b
e late,” I say as I bring my plate to the sink. Mom kisses me goodbye, wishes me a good day, then I’m off to school. It’s not far from my house—within walking distance. Every morning, I meet my best friend, Carly, at the corner of my block. But she’s not here yet. That doesn’t surprise me, since I’m usually the one waiting for her. But it’s late.

  I’m about to text her when tiny pieces of colored-paper are sprinkled all around me. “Happy birthday!” A second later, Carly throws herself into my arms.

  I laugh and open my mouth to thank her, but something black creeps into my peripheral vision. Thinking it’s a cat, I ignore it. But I can’t ignore the chill shooting down my back. My vision grows a little blurry and everything begins to sway.

  “Whoa.” Carly places her hands on my shoulders to steady me. “You okay?”

  Blinking, I take in her green eyes and spikey, purple hair. She promised her mom she’d stop with the hair dying, but she never could. It’s part of her.

  “Lizzy?” Carly asks. “What’s wrong?”

  I swallow. The area around me isn’t blurry anymore. The cold sensation is no longer down my back. What in the world was that?

  “Hello?” Carly snaps her fingers in my face. “Is this some sort of birthday prank? Because you’re really starting to freak me out.”

  I scan around. Everything is as it should be. I must have imagined the whole thing. Smiling, I say, “Confetti, nice. And I was starting to think you were running out of ideas.”

  “For you? Never. So, please tell me your birthday party is still on for tonight. It’s going to be epic.”

  Epic? My party? Yeah, right.

  Carly must see the expression on my face because she frowns. “It will be. Everyone is going to be there. Everyone.” She wiggles her eyebrows.

  I know exactly who she’s referring to. Logan Hall.

  I make my way toward school. Carly chases after me. “You’ve had a crush on him since forever.”

  “Since eighth grade. Not forever.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Same thing.”

  I can’t help but laugh. “There are more important things than parties and boys, Carly.”

  She says something, but I’m not paying attention because once again darkness seeps into the corner of my eye. The same chill goes down my spine, and the area spins.

  “Okay, you need to sit down.” Carly clutches my shoulders, lowering me to the ground. “Should I call your mom?”

  I shake my head. “I’m just a little dizzy.”

  She nods, biting her lip. We sit in silence, until this weirdness starts to disappear. What the heck is happening to me? I can’t be the only one feeling this way, can I?

  “Carly, there isn’t…I mean, you don’t…?” I can’t finish my sentence because of the look she gives me. Like I fell from another planet. The people rushing to work or school seem to be as normal as ever. No one’s collapsing to the ground. It’s safe to say I am the only one feeling this way.

  “I don’t what?”

  I shake my head.

  “Lizzy, you’re not making any sense. And you’re, like, the most sensible person I know.”

  I want to snort. If I’m so sensible, why do I feel like I’m seconds away from completely losing it? First the dream and now this?

  “I…I’m just tired,” I say.

  That seems to calm her down a bit, but she still looks worried. Getting up from the ground, I paste on a smile and continue on toward school. Carly hurries after me. I bring up different topics until the concern is completely gone from her eyes. Me on the other hand? My eyes keep scanning around, looking for more of that whatever it was. But everything seems normal.

  At school, we separate to our lockers. I gather the books and things I need for my first period class and close my locker. And come face to face with Logan Hall.

  I nearly drop my books.

  He leans against the lockers, pushing his brown hair away from his forehead. “Hey, Liz.” He flashes perfect white teeth.

  Hugging the books to my chest, I try to muster a smile, but my lips shake. “Hi, um, Logan.”

  “Happy birthday.” He plucks something out of his jeans pocket. A card.

  “Thanks.” I open it and it starts to sing happy birthday. The volume is so loud that it echoes off the hallway walls. Seriously, it’s as loud as a blow horn. Some kids look at us and laugh.

  I slam the card shut, but not before I read the message inside: To the awesome Lizzy Reed. Happy birthday and I hope all your wishes and dreams come true.

  Logan laughs. “Sorry. It didn’t sound that loud at the store.”

  “No, it’s great. Thanks. And I love the message.”

  “I meant every word.” He moves his hand toward mine and locks his fingers around my right wrist. He gently pulls my hand toward him and turns it around so that my palm faces him. “Still there, huh? I thought it was a temp.”

  I have no idea what he’s talking. He’s touching my hand.

  “Liz?”

  I blink a few times. “What?”

  “Your tat. Is it actually real?”

  My eyes dip to my palm, to the black five-pointed star that’s carved into my skin. It’s so large it covers my entire palm. I’ve had it since I was a baby. Mom swears she has no idea how it got there or if it means anything. “Yeah, it’s real. I’ve had it since—”

  “You’re cool, Lizzy,” he says. “And your mom must be pretty neat, too, to let you have it at fifteen.”

  “Well, sixteen. It’s my birthday today.”

  He and the rest of the kids don’t know the truth, that my mom didn’t let me get a tattoo. Why not pretend when it makes Logan think I’m cool?

  He chuckles lightly. “I know. I’m the idiot who bought you the worst card on the planet.”

  “No,” I quickly say. “It’s not the worst card on the planet. I love it. I mean, I really like it. Thanks.”

  He smiles. “So why a five-pointed star?”

  I shrug. “It seemed…cool.”

  He flattens my palm over his and traces the lines of the star. Gosh, he’s sending this tingling feeling all over me. It takes everything I have not to yank my hand back.

  Darkness creeps into the corner of my eye. I’m about to turn my head toward that direction, but then my palm stings. At the spot where Logan’s tracing my star.

  A hiss escapes my lips as I grab my hand away and clutch it to my chest. The burning sensation grows stronger, traveling up my arm, my shoulder, my neck, all the way to my head, where it pounds.

  “Lizzy?”

  Just as quickly as the pain came, it’s gone. So is the darkness. Did I imagine the whole thing?

  “Lizzy?”

  I blink. “Yeah, I’m okay.” I force a smile.

  He returns it. “Okay.” He bends in close. “I’ll see you tonight?”

  “Tonight?”

  “At your party.”

  My jaw nearly reaches the floor. “You’re coming?”

  “Am I not invited?”

  “No! I mean, of course you are.”

  He sends me another smile. “Great. I’ll see you then.”

  He walks off toward his class while I stand there staring after him, trying to convince myself that conversation actually happened. Logan Hall is into me? He’s into me.

  “What was that about?” Carly sneaks up behind me.

  I turn around. “He’s coming to my party.”

  “Told you.”

  I hold out the card. “And he gave me this.”

  She snatches it out of my hand, her eyes devouring the words like they’re candy. I don’t even pay attention to the loud song. “I hope all your wishes and dreams come true.” She closes the card. “Wow. He’s so into you.”

  My cheeks feel hot. “I can’t wait for my party tonight.”

  She wraps her arm over my shoulder. “Me, either. But first we have a long, long, long day of high school to get through.”

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  About the Author
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  Dee J. Stone is the pseudonym of two sisters who write young adult and adult novels. The Keepers of Justice series, The Blue Masked Hero series, The World of Duriell series, Mark of Platos, The Cruiser & Lex series, The Merman’s Kiss series, The Genie’s Love series, Emily’s Curse, and Chasing Sam are now available on Amazon. You can check out Dee J. Stone here: https://deejstone.wordpress.com, email them at deej.stone@yahoo.com, or follow them on Facebook and Twitter.

  Want more stories? Hop on over to our Patreon pages and check them out! We post chapters weekly. https://www.patreon.com/deejstoneromance and https://www.patreon.com/deejstonefantasy. Thanks for your support!

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