What can never happen? Heck, I don’t even understand what just happened!
As we made our way across the walkway, I slipped a little and dropped my folder in the water.
“Damn.”
When I reached for the little butthead, Troy swept in from nowhere, yanked my wrist away, and retrieved my folder with his other hand.
“Don’t ever touch the water,” he said darkly.
Perhaps fittingly, he left me squatting with my wet folder and a very ugly, very confused look on my face.
Since I had to haul my books around all dang day, I didn’t have to make a locker stop after classes, so I headed out to the parking lot to wait for Mom. Once there, I saw an old, plum-purple station wagon with a card bearing my mom’s name taped to the windshield. Waiting by the car was probably the most peaceful time of the day…until Benji purposely drove through a muddy puddle, drenching me in the process.
“Have some mud, Cheese Curl Head!” he yelled, laughing.
“Darling? What happened?” My mom ran over and covered me with her raincoat. “Did that little punk splash you? If he did, I’ll happily report him to the principal.”
“Just an accident. No big deal,” I said, smiling. There was no way I’d let these jerks get the best of me. “Let’s go home.”
“Okay, sweetie. Oh! What a pretty backpack. Did the school provide it?”
“Principal Jeepers gave it to me.”
“How thoughtful! And look at this! I was hoping they’d deliver the car by the time school ended. Not a bad looking thing, is it?”
“Not if you don’t mind social kryptonite.”
“Okay. It’s fugly. But, it’s ours. In you go,” she said, helping me into the car. I might be sixteen, but I still love when my mom babies me.
After a few minutes of Mom-panic over the “missing” car keys, we headed to our new home. We pulled into our narrow, shell-laden driveway and trudged into our small, one-story beach house. The inside smelled moldy, but I guess that’s what they call beach-y. Old, beat-up boxes littered the hallway, but there really wasn’t much to unpack, since our belongings were minimal to begin with. While my mom scurried off to scope out the tiny kitchen, I wandered back to my regrettably florescent green bedroom. Whoever thought this was a good color for a bedroom was seriously demented; I’ll practically have to sleep in sunglasses.
My room might be small and ridiculously bright, but it did have one redeeming feature: a large window overlooking the ocean. The view could not be more breathtaking, apart from a rickety old pier that seemed to extend endlessly over the sea. I’ve never been a fan of piers. The idea that the only things between me and drowning to death were a bunch of old wooden planks wigged me out.
I sat on the window seat, my back to the pier, and stared into the horizon. I was deep within a rather naughty daydream when I saw someone leave the house next door and walk towards the sea. He stood near the shoreline, perfectly still. For some reason, his figure captivated me. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him. As if sensing my stare, he turned and looked right at me…my neighbor, Troy Tombolo.
Chapter Four
A First Date with Tricks & Treats
Who doesn’t love October? The air was a little heavier, the days a little spookier, and the nights practically beg ghostly spirits to start singing, dancing, and frightening the bejesus out of living beings. On these nights, ghosts, witches, werewolves, and vampires creep out of the depths of impossibility and into reality…or so I like to think.
It’ll be nice to have the chance at a true Halloween night in a seafaring town. In the institution, doctors used Halloween as an excuse to play vampire with extra gusto. My expectations to connect with the otherworldly could not be greater. Until then, I have a date.
Trey asked me out first thing this morning, just as Airianna predicted. I had wanted to better prepare for the moment his lips said, “Marina, will you have dinner with me Friday night?” Sadly, my weak preparation gets the big FAIL. Instead of replying with a bubbly, “Can’t wait,” my lips did the classic tuck and curl. See, I have a tiny problem when it comes to dating: I gag. I truly repulse myself. Fortunately, Trey already knew about my reflex and fully expected it…well, maybe not fully.
Date time. Ugh. All this fussing about has left me wheezy. I really must start exercising. With a mere millisecond to spare, I heard the doorbell. I hurried to open the door, which was probably stupid since a cleverer girl would keep a guy waiting for at least a few minutes. Unfortunately, my hungry stomach nullified any cleverness I may possess.
Oh. Trey looked perfectly yummy in his dark pants and black t-shirt.
Yum. GAG. Damn.
“Another gag? Now, paranoia sets in.”
“Oh, uh, that was just sinus drainage.” I couldn’t bear to look at him.
“Riiiight. Your mom around?” he asked, shifting his eyes.
“Meeting. No parental third degree for you tonight.”
“Nice. Ready?” he asked, offering me his arm.
“Sure,” I said, gladly looping my arm through his.
After driving to the main village road, Trey parked his jeep, opened the door for me, and led me to a large hayride waiting nearby.
“Have you been downtown lately?” he asked.
“I haven’t been downtown at all.”
“You’re kidding! How’s that possible?”
“I’ve only been here a couple days. Plus, I go from home to school, then school to home, where I get my homework done, study, and stare at the water.”
“Wow. That’s pathetic,” he said, nudging me.
“Yeah, it kinda is,” I said.
“Well, I think you’re really going to like this,” he said, helping me onto the horse-drawn wagon.
“Ready, young ones?” asked the driver, a jolly Fairhair man dressed as a scarecrow, complete with stuffed crows attached to his hat.
“Shouldn’t we wait for them?” I asked, pointing to a large group waiting in the shadows.
“They’ll be waiting for the next ride, I expect,” said the driver, urging the horses onward.
“It’s a group of Ravenflames,” said Trey. “They’re not going to share a wagon with two Normals.”
“Trey—”
“No questions. I want you to enjoy this,” he said, taking my hand.
When the wagon turned onto the main street, the driver announced, “Welcome to Halloween Haven Street!”
The quaint village looked mystical, all transformed into a Halloween heaven. We passed under thick Halloween-themed garland strung from building to building, while strands of orange lights and wreaths of golden leaves twinkled atop every lamppost. Mechanical bats flew madly about, swooping down on visitors. Happy, creepy, and artistically perfect pumpkins adorned every shop window and doorstep. Ghosts fluttered on invisible chords, and witches cackled and brewed potions from steaming cauldrons.
“This is incredible,” I whispered.
“If you think this is good, wait until you see it at Christmas,” said Trey, closely watching my every reaction.
“Thank you for shutting me up earlier,” I said honestly. “I’m not even sure what I was going to ask. Sometimes I verbal vomit.”
Trey smirked and said, “I just didn’t want you to miss this…or that.” I followed his stare and…
AGH! A headless horseman zoomed by, aiming his seriously creepy pumpkin at my head. I immediately dropped to the bottom of the wagon. I so hope I didn’t scream.
“Don’t think I’ve ever heard someone scream that loud at the horseman,” said the driver.
Terrific.
“Are you all right?” Laughing, Trey helped me up and brushed off the hay.
“Stupid comes naturally to me. I’m fluent in stupid,” I said airily.
“Destination call for Harbor Haunts!” said the driver, slowing the horses.
“So, the main street is called Halloween Haven, and this restaurant is Harbor Haunts? Is the pro-spooky a year-round thing?” I asked,
carefully stepping down.
The driver chuckled. “Nah, they change the names with the holidays. For Christmas, the main street becomes Holiday Haven, and this place changes to Harbor Holly.”
“A holiday happy town. That’s fun with a hoot of whoo hoo.”
“Now, before you go, I always assign official passenger nicknames. You, sir, will be Charming, while you, little lass, will have to be…Yelps.”
There are no words.
“Goodnight!” he called, clip-clopping down the street.
“So, Yelps, ready to eat?”
“Funny. Let’s go inside,” I grumbled, reaching for the door.
“Oh, no, no. Please, allow me,” he said, opening the door and bowing. “After all, I am Charming.”
We both laughed and entered Harbor Haunts. The fun décor of the village continued inside the typical little seaside restaurant with floating ghosts over every table, candy garlands strung overhead, and an eerie fog blanketing the floor.
“I’m Verbosa. Reservation?” said the Ravenflame hostess, who was dressed up as a rather raunchy pirate.
“Yeah, under Campbell,” said Trey.
Verbosa looked us over. “This way.”
“They don’t work in the kitchens, do they?” I whispered as we weaved through the crowded tables.
“Ravenflames own the place and only work the less strenuous jobs,” he said, curling his lip. “Fairhairs run the kitchen.”
“Good. Wouldn’t want them to go all evil queen-poison apple on us.”
“You two will sit here,” Verbosa said.
“Don’t think so. I specifically asked for an ocean view,” said Trey, managing his temper.
Verbosa apparently did not want to argue with Trey…not that I blame her. An angry Trey was very intimidating.
“Fine. Will this one suit you?” she asked sarcastically, motioning to a corner table overlooking the sea.
“Just what I asked for,” he said, pulling out my chair.
Verbosa left our menus and stormed off.
“Frankly, I’m surprised she took your reservation, being a Normal and all,” I said, opening my menu.
“Money motivates, and I’m a paying customer.”
Looking over my menu, I felt queasy. Every dish was fish.
“Hi! I’m Ula, and I’ll be your server this evening. Can I get y’all something to drink?” said the cheerful Fairhair girl.
“Soda, please,” said Trey.
“Um, same. And, uh, do you serve anything other than fish?” I asked her, totally mortified.
“Oh, sure. We do special orders on occasion. We have chicken dishes. Anything in particular we can make for you?”
“I’d love chicken fingers…with honey mustard sauce on the side…and spicy fries. And a Caesar salad sounds good, dressing on the side.”
“You know, that sounds really good,” said Trey. “I’ll have the same.”
Ula giggled while she diligently took our orders. “You’re Marina Valentine, aren’t you?”
“Uh, yes.” Oh God. Am I supposed to recognize this girl?
“I’m in your English class.”
Oh, yeah, I remember seeing her now. Ula was basically a bigger version of Tinkerbell. “Sorry, I didn’t recognize you. After a while, all the blonds blend.” Er. “I didn’t mean that how it sounded.”
Giggling, she said, “No, I know what you mean. Anyway, I loved your poem! That was the best one of the day. I’ll just go put your orders in.” She twirled around and skipped towards the kitchen.
“So…um.” I didn’t know what to say. This was my first official date outside of the institution. “Um. Yeah, that’s all I’ve got.”
“There’s a reason they say conversation is an art,” said Trey.
“And I’m not arty. This is a problem.”
Trey bit his lip, smiling. “The Fairhair girls seem to be pro-you.”
“While the Fairhair guys and all the Ravenflames are anti-me. I’m a big anti.”
“If anyone’s the anti, it’s the Ravenflames. They’re anti-everybody, except themselves.”
“Here y’all go,” said Ula, setting down the most gorgeous plates of Caesar salad.
“Greens are good when slathered with fatty dressing,” I said, my mouth protruding with salad. Mom would kill me for talking with my mouth full.
After finishing arguably the best Caesar salads ever, we indulged in our perfect platters of chicken fingers and spicy fries. My stomach was full and uncomfortable, which felt great after years of empty and uncomfortable. Unfortunately, due to years of downing slop, our mealtime conversation consisted of me saying, “Yum” and “Mmm.” Yeah. Bad.
“Food is freedom.”
“That should be our slogan.” Trey grinned, but a grimace soon followed. “I don’t believe this.”
“What? Do you see a crab puff?”
“Look behind you.”
Troy Tombolo slipped into a seat at the table directly behind me; I could feel the heat coming off his body. Unfortunately, he brought Katrina with him. She looked like one of those overly made-up dolls from the clearance bin of an outlet toy store.
“What’s your beef with Troy?” I whispered.
Trey leaned low over the pumpkin and ghost centerpiece and whispered, “I think he and Katrina know where the other Normals are. I sense it.”
“You’re saying they know where Earl, Ophelia, and Odette moved?”
“Something like that,” he said, backing away. “Anyway, I had a bad feeling the week Earl moved. I just couldn’t zero in on anything specific.”
“Did your granddad talk to his parents about it?”
“He didn’t have parents. Earl lived with his aunt. Normals don’t have two-parent families. Meikle lives with her mom, Polly with her mom, and Ophelia and Odette lived with their older sister.”
“And I live with my mom.”
Trey nodded.
I sat there, staring blankly at my napkin, quietly trying to digest this high cholesterol information, when I felt a hand in my hair. I whipped around to find Troy removing a strand of hay from behind my ear. Once again, the eye contact felt otherworldly—deep, dark, and a little frightening. I could hear Ula’s bell-like voice, but she sounded miles away…or maybe I was miles away.
“Would y’all like some dessert?
“Oh, God, yes….I mean, NO!” I said that much too loudly.
“Uh, okay. Would you like one of our take-home treat bags? We have chocolate, lollipop, candy corn—”
“CANDY CORN!” Geez, hyper much? “I’m so sorry. I just really, really love candy corn. Would have a bag a day, if I could.” There goes my nervous laughter; I can’t control it to save my life. Ick. I sounded like a demented hyena.
“All right,” said Ula slowly.
“You want to go to the beach?” asked Trey.
“Sounds good,” I said, nervously wringing my hands together, desperately wishing Ula would return with the candy corn. No doubt, I’ll have the bag eaten by the end of this date.
When Ula returned with our candy bags, Troy whispered over his shoulder, “Looks like we have something in common—candy lovers.”
I didn’t even acknowledge him. I grabbed my candy corn, tore open the bag, shoved a handful in my mouth, grabbed Trey’s hand, and virtually dragged him out of Harbor Haunts. By the time we reached the beach, all of my candy corn was gone, and I was feeling gassy.
“So, here we are,” said Trey, leaning closer, the full moon and stars sparkling off the water like thousands of twinkling Christmas lights.
Dear God, he wanted to kiss me. I haven’t done this in a while, and I’m not convinced I was any good at it to begin with. Besides, every kiss I’ve ever had (which amounts to, like, four) leaves me looking around the room, wondering when it will move me. Aren’t you supposed to close your eyes when you kiss? Wasn’t the perfect kiss supposed to make you forget where you are? Yeah, I haven’t had one of those.
Oh, hello, Trey’s mouth! Crap. My
eyes weren’t closing. I was busily looking at the moon…and the ocean…and the waves…and—uh—something huge flipping out of the water.
“Did you see that?” I yelped, pulling away.
“No. I was kissing you,” said Trey. Thankfully, the dark concealed my reddening skin. “What did you see?”
“Well, I saw a fish tail and…I don’t really know,” I said, shaking my head. “It was large, long, lean—”
“It was probably just a dolphin.”
“Or a mermaid,” I said gleefully, clapping my hands. Am I seven? Idiot. “Uh, I mean, my imagination is working overtime, I guess.”
He looked like he didn’t know whether to pity me or laugh at me. “So, my kiss sparked your imagination, huh? Well, that’s something,” he said, working his hands through my hair, tenderly kissing me.
That must be it! His kiss ignited my imagination! What a relief! Enough, Marina. Focus on the joy of kissing Troy…er…Trey. Oh, no.
Chapter Five
Halloween Freak Outs
Growth, thy name was butt. Seriously, I could feel it stretching. I’d call it an a-hole, but there’s just too much irony there. I’ve been eating—more like inhaling—candy since my date with Trey. What was I supposed to do? Every morning since our date, a bag of candy corn has mysteriously appeared in my locker. Though Trey denies being my candy corn enabler, I’m certain he holds the title of Sugar Culprit. He’s so sweet (pathetic pun intended).
Trey and I have been officially going out for a little over a week, and I adore him, really. But, there was no life changing, heart-stopping passion. Maybe that was asking too much at sixteen. The kissing was nice, but shouldn’t my mind race, almost maddeningly, until the next time I can feel his lips on mine? Still asking too much, I guess. Trey was just so comfortable. Everything was so uncomplicated that, at times, it felt like a complicating dullness. I’m fairly certain he feels the same about me—comfy, but nothing befitting the “wow” category. And now, just to piss off my brain, my hormones were busily brewing a pesky crush for that arrogant Neanderthal, Troy Tombolo.
What am I doing? Here I am dating the gentlest soul imaginable, yet I cannot stop thinking about a boy whose soul was so guarded and disguised that it posed an almost terrifying risk to anyone trying to reach inside.
FINNED (The Merworld Water Wars) Page 4
