Pretty in Pearls: A Forgive My Fins Novella (HarperTeen Impulse) (3 page)

“They are harvested once a year,” Riatus explains, either
not
interested in letting me pretend to be indifferent to him or
more
interested in showing off his stock. “In the heart of winter, when the Arctic seas are at their coldest.”

“Fascinating,” Lily says.

I glare at Riatus across the display, but he isn’t looking at Lily or the pearls or even my face. His gaze—fierce and intense, icy gray—is focused on the base of my throat.

“What?” I whisper as my hand goes to my neck, certain to find the remains of lunch—sea-cucumber jelly or lobsterman’s pie—stuck to my skin.

Instead, I feel the necklace dangling there. Wearing it became such a habit in the past year, I totally forgot it was even there.

“I just . . . ” I want to give him some explanation, some reason other than the truth—that the pearl means more to me than I want him to know. But nothing comes out. It’s hard to come up with a convincing lie when the truth is so blatantly on display.

Then, before the moment can get any more awkward than it already is, he turns to Lily.

“Here, Princess,” he says, “let me show you the golden collection. I’m sure we have a selection to complement your scales.”

I let out a rough breath. What was I thinking? That he recognized the pearl? That he remembered giving it to me? No way. He made that clear when we first saw each other again two weeks ago. Why did I think he would have suddenly remembered?

Still, the water between him and me? More than a little tense.

When Lily and I swim out of the stall twenty minutes later, she has a shopping bag full of pearls—beautiful gold ones I know Mom will want to use on the princess’s dress for the Sea Harvest Dance—and I have progressed from utterly confused to downright flicked off.

“I’m not crazy,” I say.

Lily looks up from her bag of pearls. “Did I say you were?”

“I mean, if a boy flirts with you, if he tells you he’s going to bubble message you”—I absently rub the pearl at my throat—“that should mean he’s interested. Right?”

Lily nod. “Totally!”

“That was weird. Wasn’t that weird?” I spin around to face her. “You felt it, too. Right?”

Lily studies me, an angelfish on her face. She’s probably amused to see me so worked up over a boy, but right now I can’t even manage to be indignant about that. I just want advice.

“What do I do?” I demand.

“What do you do?” She smiles. “I think . . . ” she says, drawing it out until I’m practically leaning forward in anticipation.

Lily may not have the most exhaustive experience with boys. There’s the boy she crushed on for three years—who barely knew she existed and is now bonded with her cousin Dosinia—and then there’s Quince. Who is, to be fair, pretty much every mergirl’s dream wrapped up in one tidy, biker-boy package.

But still, her advice is better than no advice, and she knows me better than anyone.

“ . . . you need . . . ”

I hold my breath.

“ . . . to talk to him.”

I’m not sure what I imagined her advice was going to be, but that was not it.

“Talk to him?” I echo.

She nods. “Ask him what’s going on.”

“Ask him?” I shake my head. “I can’t just ask him.”

“Of course you can.” She smiles. “You have a right to know. I mean, he all but asked you to the dance, right?”

“Right, but—”

“Then ask him why he didn’t.” She places her hands on my shoulders. “You still like him, obviously. What do you have to lose? Ask him.”

She makes it sound so simple. Just swim up to him and say,
Hey, you said you were going to bubble message me and I thought you might ask me to the dance and then you started treating me like a total stranger. What’s up with that? Have a personality change or something?

Oh yeah, sure, I’ll just ask him.

“Even better,” Lily says excitedly, “why don’t
you
ask
him
to the dance?”

“What?” I cough.

She swings her arms wide, a huge smile on her face. “Absolutely. Ask Riatus to the dance. I bet you’ll be surprised by the answer.”

I frown at her.

Bet I won’t.

    
3

A
fter much thought and consideration—and prodding from Lily—I relent and decide to try talking to Riatus. But not until after the market closes for the day. I can’t imagine anything more awkward than asking a guy whether he likes you or not in front of a crowd of shoppers.

After the sun sets, replaced by the bioluminescent glow that keeps Thalassinia from ever being completely dark, I sneak back through the aisles of the market.

Most of the stall keepers are packing up their goods for the night—covering the food and flower displays, packing the organic sea life into storage bins, placing valuable trinkets into locked chests.

I’ve never seen this side of the market. It’s like staying in the ballroom after the royal party, when the palace staff starts taking down the displays to return everything to normal. An insider’s peek into a secret world.

As I approach the back corner of the market, my heart starts racing, fast. Like, I have to stop and catch my breath and make sure I’m not having a panic attack.

But no, after a minute of slow breathing, my heart gets back under control. I give myself a couple extra minutes, just to make sure, before pushing out from behind a rack of seaflower fascinators and continuing on my way.

I round the last corner and freeze.

Coral is still in the stall too. I hadn’t counted on that. All my imaginings had me swimming up on Riatus alone. I need a minute to regroup.

As I watch, Riatus is moving the barrels of pearls to the back of the stall, probably so he can lock down all the lids and secure the whole collection to the seahorse hitching post in the back corner.

I notice Coral reach for something behind the counter and pull out a folded sheet of kelpaper. She opens it, scans the contents, and laughs out loud.

Riatus turns, probably to ask her what’s so funny, and she quickly hides the note behind her back. She says something that leaves him shaking his head. A moment later, she darts forward, places a kiss on his cheek, and then swims away, out of the stall—out of the market. The kelpaper drifts away behind her and lands on one of the barrels.

This is my chance. Riatus is alone. I should swim over there and ask my questions. He goes back to work, dancing around the stall as he moves the barrels into position. There is something so boyish, so joyful about his movements. I have to watch for a minute longer.

I can’t breathe, and this time it has nothing to do with freaking out. It has everything to do with him.

Holy hammerhead.

When he’s nudged the last barrel into place next to the others, he starts locking them down. I watch, hypnotized by his quick, precise movements. It only takes him a few seconds to finish them all. Then he’s dragging a thick chain through the rings and locking them to the post.

As he drifts back a little, swiping a hand across the back of his neck, I know it’s time to act. He’s done for the night. I have to go now, or he’ll head home and I’ll have to languish another day.

I would never hear the end of it from Lily.

I flex my tail fin, ready to kick myself over to the stall, when I see him find the piece of kelpaper Coral let float to the ground. He reads whatever’s written on the paper, his scowl deepening as he goes. Crumpling up the paper, he looks like he wants to throw it into the open sea. Instead, he grabs his jacket from the corner and stuffs the paper into a pocket.

Then he pulls the jacket on. He’s leaving.

The time for hiding and excuses is over. Time to use up all my courage and ask that boy if he wants to go to the Sea Harvest Dance with me.

I kick out from behind the counter just in time to see Riatus swimming away in the opposite direction.

Oh no. He can’t get away that easily. I’m going to talk to him tonight if I have to follow him all the way to the mainland.

With determination stiffening my spine, I swim off after him.

Riatus is fast. When I took off after him, I figured I would be able to keep up pretty easily. He wasn’t swimming a merathon, after all.

But as soon as he clears Old Town he kicks it into high gear, and I’m swimming for my life to keep up. It’s fast becoming a matter of pride to not let him get away.

We’re swimming over the oldest structures in town, through the eastern suburbs, and out into the open ocean before I realize we’re leaving the city.

I dive lower, toward the ocean floor. I know my goal is to talk to him—which generally requires him knowing that I’m in the vicinity—but right now the last thing I want is for him to see me chasing after him like a crazy merperson.

We pass an ancient signpost and I finally figure out where he’s heading. Once we clear the rocky outcropping ahead, we’ll be at the edge of the Black Kelpforest.

I was fifteen before I even had courage to look at the Black Kelpforest, let alone approach the edge. Parents like to frighten little merchildren by telling them stories about the sharks and sea monsters that live in there.

The reality is almost worse. Only black-market traders, poachers, and criminals visit the forest. Thalassinia is one of the safest kingdoms in all the oceans, but the Black Kelpforest is the one place where nasty things happen regularly. It’s a rare week that goes by without news of something illegal and usually violent happening here.

This idea just went from bad to catastrophic.

I need to turn back. I know this. I tell myself this. Repeatedly.

A voice in the back of my mind—a voice that sounds remarkably like Lily’s—urges me to keep going just a little farther.

Riatus disappears over the outcropping, dropping down out of sight. I slow as I approach the edge. Stopping at the top, I peer over and watch him swim for the edge of the forest.

He’s really going in. What possible reason could he have for racing out of town and venturing into the darkest, scariest forest in Thalassinia at this time of night?

This is nuts.

I’ve taken this too far. It’s definitely time to turn around and head back for the safety of town.

I watch for a few seconds longer—to make sure he’s really,
really
going into the forest—before turning away to start the swim back.

Only as I turn, my tail fin knocks into a loose rock and sends it soaring out over the edge. Sinking swiftly and spiraling toward Riatus far below. I dash out, desperate to grab it before it falls to the ocean floor.

I’m too slow.

The rock swooshes out of my reach and I watch in horror as the current sends it swirling and twisting. What if it hits him? I should bolt, should get myself out of here before the rock hits the floor. But I can’t.

Instead, I’m floating like an idiot, staring at Riatus as the rock lands with a spray of sand.

He doesn’t turn at first, and I think maybe he won’t notice. Maybe he didn’t feel the disturbance in the water. Maybe—maybe—luck is actually on my side.

Then he turns around.

Looks up.

I know the exact moment he sees and recognizes me. His eyes widen for a moment and then narrow into an angry scowl. Even across the distance between us I can feel his fury.

Jeez, I know it’s a little weird—in a crazy, psycho, stalker-chick way—that I’ve followed him out here to the edge of the forest. But does he really have to—

“Oh boy.”

Riatus pushes off from the floor and swims for me. I’m not sure what makes me turn and flee. It could be the look on his face. It could be natural preservation instinct. It could be I’m totally humiliated and horrified to be caught following a merboy I barely know into the most dangerous part of our kingdom.

Whatever the reason, I turn around and swim for home as fast as I can.

Riatus is faster.

If I thought he was hightailing it on the way here, he is a freaking speed demon now. Before I am five fin flicks away, he zooms past me, whips around, and swirls himself to a stop in my path. I react instantly, altering my course to swim off to my right. I don’t know where I’m going, but I’m going there fast.

“Peri!” He’s not far behind me.

I spot a little grove of lacelike sea fans ahead of me, and I streamline. Kicking as hard as I can, I make it to the grove ahead of him. Maybe the sea fans will give me some cover. Their thick trunks and intricately branching limbs make it almost impossible to see inside. Maybe he’ll be so focused on chasing after me he won’t realize I’ve diverted.

With my back up against the tallest, thickest sea fan in the bunch, I try to slow my panting so he can’t hear me. I’m not scared—it wasn’t that kind of chase. It’s not like I think Riatus is going to hurt me. I’m embarrassed. I’m horrifically, hysterically embarrassed.

Why did I think I should—

“What in the seven seas are you doing?”

Riatus appears in front of me. It’s only a small concession that he is panting as hard as I am.

“What are you doing here?” he demands. “Were you following me?”

“No!” Stupid answer. “Yes. I mean, I didn’t mean to.”

“Didn’t mean to?”

I shake my head. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

He throws his head back and stares up toward the surface, like he’ll find some kind of answer there.

“I was waiting for you to finish closing down for the night. I didn’t want to interrupt,” I say, trying to fill the silence and explain my actions. “Then you read some note and took off, and I—”

His gaze swings back to me. Those pale gray eyes spear me with intensity.

“You have no idea what you’re getting into,” he says.

His brows are furrowed so deeply there are twin lines in the center of his forehead. He looks . . . scared.

For the first time I realize I might have gotten myself into a really bad situation. Okay, not for the first time, because I knew this was a stupid thing to do from the beginning, but now the danger seems real.

“I—I’m sorry,” I stammer, trying to back away—only to realize I’m pressed up against a huge sea-fan trunk. Brilliant plan. “I shouldn’t have come, shouldn’t have followed you.”

“No,” he says, floating closer into my personal space. “You shouldn’t have.”

“I should go.”

He kicks closer still, and braces his hands on the sea fan at either side of my shoulders. He’s so close I can make out the specks of sky blue at the centers of his eyes. I can see the faint freckles that dust his cheeks and forehead. I can feel his heat and I can’t suppress a shiver.

“Forget you ever followed me,” he says. He hesitates, scowls like he’s thinking about saying something more, but doesn’t.

Instead, he floats back, giving me enough space to get away. That more than anything gives me the courage to ask, “Is it something illegal?”

I could forgive a lot of things. If it’s something stupid or risky or totally-innocuous-and-I’m-overreacting, then that’s fine. But as emissary to the princess, I can’t condone illegal activities. How hypocritical would that be?

The muscles in his jaw tighten and his nostrils flare. “Of course not.”

“Of course not?” I spit back before I can think. “There’s no ‘of course not’ about it. You just raced out of town to the edge of the Black Kelpforest—aka the epicenter of all criminal activity in Thalassinia—under cover of darkness. I think illegal activity is a totally legitimate guess on my part.”

He watches me finish my rant. I can’t tell if he thinks I’m gutsy or stupid—or both. Then, after an increasingly uncomfortable silence, he barks out a deep laugh.

“Poseidon help me, Peri, but you are a fearless one.”

I cross my arms over my chest, not sure if that’s supposed to be a compliment or just an observation. It doesn’t seem like a condemnation, so I choose to take it as a compliment. “Thank you.”

He shakes his head, his smile fading. “There is nothing illegal about my activities tonight,” he says. “I promise you.”

His promise shouldn’t mean anything to me. I barely know him. He’s just a cute boy who works in his mother’s market stall. But for some reason, the words reassure me. There’s a heaviness to them. A gravity.

I believe him, and I believe he takes his promises seriously.