Pretty in Pearls: A Forgive My Fins Novella (HarperTeen Impulse) (4 page)

That faith gives me the courage to ask the question that started this whole adventure. “Did I do something wrong after that first day in the market?”

He scowls, probably confused by my apparent change of subject. “I’m sorry?”

“I thought . . . I mean you seemed . . . ” I sound like an idiot. “You said you would message me.”

His pale eyes study me. “I did.”

“But you haven’t,” I say. “So I must have done something to make you
not
want to.”

“Peri—”

“It’s okay,” I interrupt. “I don’t blame you. I mean, it’s your prerogative, right? But I’d just like to know. For next time.”

His eyes darken and his whole demeanor changes. His muscles tighten; his mouth lifts up just a tiny bit at the corners. He swims back closer to me and when he speaks his voice is both gentle and rough.

“You did nothing wrong.”

He reaches up and brushes a lock of hair off my forehead. Sparks tingle across my whole body.

“It’s the oldest excuse in the ocean,” he continues. “But this time it’s true. It’s not you, it’s me.”

I want to roll my eyes—it
is
the oldest excuse in the whole world—but he didn’t say it casually. He said it like it hurt.

“No matter how much I might want to go out with you,” he says, “right now I just can’t.”

That should make me feel better. At least it’s not something I did or didn’t do. If anything was going to send him swimming for the hills, it would probably be my lovely display of stalkerish behavior tonight, and that’s only a recent development in our nonrelationship.

But it wasn’t me, and somehow that makes me feel worse. Because no matter how much I wanted it, no matter how much I worried about whether he liked me or even how much he actually did, it made no difference. He just . . .
can’t
.

I feel the first tickle of tears and I know I need to get out of there before my brown eyes start sparkling like shiny copper and he sees exactly how much that confession hurt. So I lower my gaze, nod a couple times—either in understanding or saying good-bye—and I swim away.

The tears start for real when I realize he’s going to let me go.

I dash out of there—eager to start the long swim home before Riatus follows me out—and am just clearing the edge of the grove when something iridescent drifts into my peripheral vision. No, no, no. My heart starts racing again—this time I’m sure it is a panic attack—as I slowly turn to confirm my fears.

Floating a few feet away to my right is a jellyfish the size of great white shark.

Stay calm.

I turn back the other way, only to find another jellyfish floating even closer. I spin around in a full circle, desperate for a way out. But I’m surrounded. On all sides, including above. I’m caught in a jellyfish bloom.

And I know I’m going to die.

    
4

I
thought you were leaving?” Riatus asks.

Jellyfish, jellyfish, jellyfish.

My mind can’t think of anything but the swarm of massive, deadly beasts that have me trapped. In some deep corner of my mind, I know that they are not close enough, dense enough to have me literally trapped. But I can’t move. I retreat, like always, into my panic.

“Peri,” he says, his voice growing fainter even though he must be swimming closer, “you need to go home.”

It happened when I was just a guppy, barely six years old. My family had gone to the Sea Star Amusement Park for the day. On the way home, my baby brother started chasing after me with a dead squid. We swam too far, not paying attention to where we were going, and before we knew it we were at the center of a smack even bigger than this one.

He died almost instantly.

I clung to life long enough for my parents to get me to the hospital. Physical recovery took a long time. Emotional recovery is still kind of a work in progress.

“Peri, what’s wrong?”

Riatus’s face drifts into my hazy vision. I try to focus on him, on his pretty, pale eyes and his dark, slashing brows. He looks worried. I don’t want him to worry. Not about me.

I go through this every time. I know I do, I know I shouldn’t, and I’m still helpless to stop.

He looks up and to the left, behind me. “Oh carp.”

He’s seen them.

His hands wrap around my upper arms. “I’m going to get you out of here,” he says. “Slow and steady. Okay?”

I nod, because that’s the only response I can manage.

He pulls me close, up against his body. One arm moves to wrap around my waist. It’s so strong and secure that I actually feel a little better. Like I can breathe a little more.

Only when I drag in a deep breath, it pushes my chest into his.

That causes a whole different kind of reaction.

In a gentle, fluid movement, Riatus waves his tail fin. The movement sends us floating. Panic rises. What if he calculates wrong? What if he’s sending us right into the deadly tentacles? What if we get caught in them and their stingers spear into our flesh, overloading our nervous systems with their paralyzing toxins?

My breathing speeds up and my vision starts to close in around me.

“I’ve got you,” Riatus says, his voice gentle and soothing. “We’re going to be fine.”

His fingertips brush my cheek. I close my eyes, narrowing my focus to his touch. Putting all of my faith into him, putting my life in his hands. And I trust him.

I put my cheek against his chest. Every movement ripples through his body, against me, rocking me gently. It’s soothing. Calming.

“Almost there,” he whispers next to my ear.

I lose myself in the rhythmic movement. I push everything else out of my mind and focus on him, on the feeling of his body next to mine and the certainty that he will get me out of this alive. He will get
us
out of this alive.

I’m not sure how much time passes before he stops.

“You’re okay.” He releases my waist and I shiver against the chill.

I feel his palms on my cheeks, cupping my face in such a tender gesture that it breaks down my resolve to not cry. The tears build up behind my eyelids faster than I can stop them.

“Come back to me, angelfish,” he whispers. “It’s over now.”

I shake my head against the emotion coursing through me. If I open my eyes now, if I let him see what I’m feeling, there will be no going back.

Then I feel his lips on my forehead. Firm and warm.

I melt.

When I open my eyes, I know they must look like glittering pennies. I don’t care.

“Hey there.” His smile lights up the whole ocean. “Welcome back.”

The most amazing thing is that I don’t feel embarrassed. I usually feel horrified after my panic attacks—what kind of freak just totally freezes up like that? As if turning into a statue does anything to help me survive a jellyfish bloom.

But with Riatus I feel only relief.

“Thank you,” I say.

He drops his hands back to his side. “I remember hearing about the attack.”

Everyone heard about it. My dad was a member of the king’s cabinet. When bad things happen to kingdom officials, word gets around.

“You must have been, what?” he asks. “Seven?”

“Six,” I reply. “I was six.” I roll my shoulders, self-conscious of the scars that crisscross my back beneath the veil of my hair. Sometimes I still feel the sting. “My brother—he . . . ”

My throat tightens and I can’t say the words.

Riatus nods. “I’m sorry.”

I bite my lip, keep back the emotion. “Thanks.”

We fall silent for several long moments. I’m trying to process all the emotion about the past and about what just happened. I have no clue what Riatus is thinking. Hopefully not that I’m the craziest mergirl he’s ever run into.

“I shouldn’t have followed you,” I say.

He looks back over his shoulder, back the way we came from. Right. Because not only am I the crazy mergirl who followed him halfway across town and turned into a basket case at the first sign of jellyfish, I’m also the crazy mergirl who ruined whatever plans took him to the Black Kelpforest in the first place.

Besides, he made it abundantly clear in the prejellyfish conversation that he’s not interested in a relationship—not able, whatever.

“I should go.” I scan the area, looking for a familiar landmark and finding none. “Where are we?”

“Halfmoon Harbor is right over that ridge,” he says, pointing to a rocky hill a short ways behind me.

The suburban neighborhood is on the southeast corner of town. From there it’s a short swim back to my home just outside the palace walls. I can be in my bed, this whole crazy disaster of a night a distant memory, in half an hour.

“See you around,” I say, even though I really hope I don’t. I’m barely keeping control of my humiliation at this point. I’m not looking forward to testing my resolve.

He doesn’t say anything, and doesn’t look like he’s going to say anything, so I turn and start for the ridge.

“Hey, Peri,” he says.

I whip back around way faster than any mergirl should, especially one who’s trying to act like she doesn’t care that the merboy she’s crushing on is completely uninterested should. Way to play it uncool.

“Yeah?” My heart is pounding.

He gives me a tortured half smile. “Swim safe.”

Seriously? My shoulders slump.
Swim safe?
That’s the best he can do?

“Sure,” I reply. “You too.”

Then, before he can say something else to embarrass or infuriate me, I turn and swim for home. “Swim safe?” I mutter to myself. “Kiss my tail fin.”

Now, if only I really meant it.

Being an emissary to a princess isn’t the toughest job in the world. When that princess is your best friend, it’s pretty much the greatest.

Basically it’s up to me accompany Lily on royal visits to other kingdoms, prepare her with all the background information for the meetings, and step in as a go-between if necessary. She’s going on a goodwill visit to Acropora next month and we’re getting an early start on the prep work.

Acropora borders Thalassinia to the south, and they have suffered from the effects of ocean warming more than any kingdom. Lily and Quince have masterminded a huge aid network to help all the kingdoms of the western Atlantic cope with the reality of climate change. Since she is bonded—in name only—to Acropora’s prince, Lily takes their welfare extra seriously.

“I want to be sure to check in on the new aid warehouse,” she says. “It should be up and running at full capacity.”

“Okay, I’ll add it to your agenda.” I write it down, after the meetings with Prince Tellin and King Gadus, but before the Marine Flora Expo. “Do you want to take any gifts for the royal family?”

“Oh, I should, shouldn’t I?”

I nod. “It’s customary.”

Lily hangs her head back over her chair. “You’re so much better at this kind of delicate politics.”

“I’m not,” I insist.

But we both know I am. It’s one of the reasons the king assigned me as Lily’s emissary. That, and the fact that I’ve always been interested in politics and royal law. Something I think I inherited from my dad.

“What about a harvest wreath?” I suggest. “It could be a nice symbol of sharing the wealth of our harvest with them.”

“Perfect,” Lily says.

I scribble down a note to order a wreath from Florella’s Flowers. She has the best selection in all of Thalassinia and she’s a small business. She can always use the extra orders.

“So, anything else?” I ask as I finish the note.

“I think that’s everything.” Lily floats back into her chair. “Can you think of anything we’ve missed?”

I set my notebook down on the desk. “No, but I’m sure I’ll think of twenty things as soon as I get home.”

“Good, now that business is over,” Lily says, steepling her hands in front of her like some kind of supervillain, “you can tell me what happened with Riatus yesterday.”

I slump back in my chair and huff out a frustrated breath that sends my bangs swirling. It was only a matter of time. Lily is not one to just let things go, especially when my love life—or lack thereof—is involved.

Since finding Quince it’s like she’s been on a mission to get me someone equally awesome.

But what can I tell her? That I stalked him across town and to the outer edges of civilization? That he went into the sketchiest part of Thalassinia, but promised me that he’s not involved in anything illegal?

Because of her position, she might feel obligated to investigate even the hint of illegal behavior. I believed Riatus when he told me he wasn’t a criminal, but Lily wouldn’t have to. It would only take a few innocent questions to completely disrupt his life. And for him to realize that I totally ran and tattled to the princess.

No, I won’t treat him as poorly as he’s treated me, so I stick to the critical parts of the story.

“He said he couldn’t go out with me,” I admit. “That even if he wanted to, he just couldn’t.”

“Couldn’t?” Lily leans forward, letting her elbows rest on her desk. “What does that even mean?”

“Honestly, I have no idea.”

She gives me an impatient look. “Did you ask him?”

“No, I—” I tilt back to study her ceiling. “There were jellyfish.”

“What?” Her green eyes soften with sympathy. “Are you okay?”

Lily knows my history, so she knows all about my panic fog. She’s saved me from my frozen reaction more than once.

“I’m fine,” I insist. “Riatus saved me.”

She smiles, and I know he just earned a bunch of points with her. “I didn’t see any reports of jellyfish in the marketplace.”

“They weren’t in the marketplace.” Great, this is the part of the story where I have to tread carefully. “He was, um, leaving the market when I got there and I had to follow him.”

“How far?” she asks.

My gaze remains fixed on her ceiling, counting the seashells in the intricately carved pattern. I feel the current move and I know she’s not behind her desk anymore.

She appears above me, blocking the view to my distraction.

“How far, Peri?” she repeats. “To their warehouse?”

I shake my head, trying to avoid eye contact.

“To his home?”

If only. “No,” I say with another shake. “Past the edge of town.”

“Periwinkle Wentletrap!”

“What?” I finally look her in the eye. “He’s a fast swimmer. And I was determined to talk to him last night so I could ask him about the dance. And so that a certain princess wouldn’t bug me about it forever.”

I don’t expect her to smile, and when she laughs I’m worried that she’s gone over the edge. Yes, I’m pathetic and ridiculous. I don’t expect my best friend to be so amused.

“It’s all your fault,” I say. “If I’m a crazy stalker, I’m using you as my defense in court.”