Breathless (22 page)
Authors: Cole Gibsen
My cheeks tingled as the blood drained from my face. “What did you say?”
Her grin turned wicked. “I thought you might like that. One more bit of info; throughout this girl’s five hundred years of life, her appearance stayed the same—like she never aged a day.” Without waiting for me to respond she stood, folded the piece of paper, and tucked it into her back pocket.
“Wel , I’m out. I’l pick you up Friday morning. How’s four AM work for you?”
The backyard seemed to tumble in on itself in a kaleidoscope of colors and I struggled to digest the information given to me. “Wait—where are you going?”
Morgan glanced at her watch. “Back to school, unfortunately. I figure I can’t skip more than one class a week until this whole thing your stepdad started blows over.” She bent over and gave me a quick hug.
“But, Morgan—” I gripped the edge of the deck to keep from toppling over. “What am I supposed to do with this information?”
She hesitated. “Whatever you want, Smal s.”
“But . . . it’s just a folktale, right? It can’t be true.”
“Wel , Smal s, I imagine it can’t be truer than the existence of mermaids.” With that, she winked at me and disappeared around the house.
***
An hour or so before Sir was expected home, I heard the front door open and shut and a car start outside.
Probably Mom going to the grocery store
. I didn’t think anything of it until after I used the bathroom. When I finished washing my hands, I twisted the knob off only to have water continue to trickle from the faucet. That gave me an idea.
Alone in the house, I could final y experiment with the dripping water. I knew that I was the cause—even more so after my almost-fight with Gabriel e. I just didn’t know how or why. So I pul ed up the stopper on the sink and waited.
The water didn’t speed up or slow down. It remained a steady drizzle as it fil ed up the ceramic bowl. Okay, so doing nothing did nothing. Big surprise there.
Next, feeling a little like an idiot, I held my hands in front of me—like a witch casting a spel —and concentrated on making the water run faster.
Nothing.
I shouted, “I command you to move, water!”
Nothing.
“Now, dammit!”
Stil nothing.
I hopped around like a Native American performing a rain dance I saw once on TV. I tried jazz fingers. I lit candles and made up magical incantations.
Nothing. Nothing. And more nothing.
With a sigh, I leaned pressed my palms against the cool porcelain and stared into the almost-ful sink bowel. Maybe the leaky faucets and exploding sprinklers had only been a coincidence. Stil , lowering my face to the water, I couldn’t deny the pul I felt to move closer. The water rippled as it devoured each fal ing drop—as if whispering my name, cal ing me forward.
Before I realized what I was doing, I dipped my face into the bowl. Maybe whatever the mers did to humans to enable them to breathe underwater was something Bastin had accidental y done to me? Working up the courage for the next part of my experiment, I mental y counted to three—and then braced for what I was about to do.
I sucked in a breath.
And then I knew.
I could
not
breathe underwater.
My disappointment was almost as painful as the water that burned through my nostrils, chocking me with fire. Suffering through a coughing fit, I stumbled back from the sink, grasping blindly for a towel.
To my surprise, it was placed in my hands.
Stil sputtering, I wiped my face, then looked up, only to find Sir standing in my doorway, staring at me as if I’d declared myself a member of the Communist party.
“What in the hel were you doing?” he asked, his eyes wide.
“Um . . .” My mind raced to come up with a plausible explanation as I dabbed the remaining water from my neck. My safest bet was to go with something Sir wouldn’t question—something girly. “I was giving myself a facial.”
He snorted but relaxed his stance. “Yeah, wel , I think you’re doing it wrong.”
I shrugged. “I read about it in one of Mom’s magazines
.
Not only is the warm water good for the complexion, but when you breathe it in, it opens up the nasal cavities.”
“Uh-huh.” He turned on heels but shot me one last warning glance over his shoulder. “If I were you, I wouldn’t be too concerned with your complexion. Your skin is going to be the least of your worries where you’re going.”
With that, he was out the door.
Apparently, now that I was going to military school, Sir’s threat of daily physical training expired. This made sneaking out of the house so much easier. Also making it easier was the fact that, with nothing left to lose, I no longer cared if I got caught. For the next two nights, I met Bastin on the dock where we knitted ourselves together like yarn, only to unravel when the sun peeked over the horizon.
And each morning I found it harder to let go as I left for home and Bastin for the ocean. Making it harder was that al my attempts to convince him to take me under had failed.
The third night Bastin didn’t come for me. But that was al part of the plan. For the first time since I’d met him, I counted the seconds until the first morning light. I glanced at the alarm clock, realizing it was almost time. I sat up in bed and patted a nervous rhythm against my thighs.
Pat-a-tat-tat.
We had to time this just right. If they were late, then Sir would be up and I’d be caught. I was excited for my weekend trip away with Bastin but at the same time, dreading it. It signaled the end and reminded me that each minute passed was one less that we’d have together. My hands kept up their anxious pattern.
Pat-a-tat-a-tat.
Another glance at the alarm clock told me they were late. What if something had gone wrong? What if they weren’t coming? Fear pressed into my chest, digging my ribs into my heart like pins in a voodoo dol . What if I never saw Bastin again?
Pat-a-tat-tat.
My thighs were starting to burn.
A quiet knock on the sliding glass door eased the pinching inside of me, and I let my breath out in a whoosh. I peeled the covers back and emerged ful y clothed, like a corpse leaving a coffin. And in a way, that’s exactly how I felt—like I was coming to life. I grabbed the smal duffel bag that I’d packed the night before, ignoring the suitcase next to it—the suitcase that would be waiting for me when I returned. I couldn’t think about that right now. Al that mattered was Bastin and spending time with him before I was sent away.
I opened the door, then couldn’t help the gasp that escaped my throat. In front of me stood a stranger. Only not. Bastin smiled, the corners of his mouth curled into the mischievous grin I loved so much. He wore dark wraparound sunglasses and a basebal hat pul ed down on top of a wig, shoulder-length and blond, tied back into a ponytail. It might have been a woman’s wig, but that didn’t matter. Whatever Bastin wore—or didn’t—he always looked good.
“This is great, isn’t it?” His voice, though a whisper, came out a few decibels too loud.
“Shhh!” I placed my finger against my lips, shut the door behind me, and pul ed him away from my house. Traveling through the neighbors’ yards, I didn’t risk speaking until we were four houses away. There, I stopped and smiled at him. “You
do
look great.”
His grin widened. “I’ve never been able to blend in with humans during the day. Especial y not in crowds. This is so amazing—it’s almost like being a human.”
My smile slipped a little. Being a human wasn’t exactly amazing, but Bastin was so excited I wasn’t going to tel him any different. “Where’s Morgan?”
Bastin wove his fingers into mine and guided me along. “Just ahead. That’s another thing: I stil can’t believe I get to ride in a car!” He was so happy it was impossible not to share his excitement. His smile dissolved whatever thoughts of suitcases, buses, and uniforms lingered inside my head. It was just another part of Bastin’s magic—his ability to make me forget about everything and just be . . . happy.
“Look!” Bastin squeezed my fingers almost to the side of pain. He nodded in the direction of Morgan’s red convertible, its engine already growling. “We get to travel in that. Isn’t that great?”
I laughed. “It’s pretty great.”
He pul ed me with him as he broke into a jog, muttering under his breath about the slowness of human legs.
When we reached the car, two heads turned to look at us. Morgan sat in the driver’s seat, her grin as wide as Bastin’s. Luna, wearing her own pair of dark sunglasses, sat in the passenger seat, looking bored. She wasn’t wearing a wig, but considering Morgan’s pink dreads, blue hair wasn’t that unusual for a teenage girl.
Morgan got out of the car so Bastin and I could climb into the back seat. When we were settled, she climbed back in, squealed, and clapped her hands. “I’m so excited. Are you guys up for a fun-fil ed weekend?”
“Yeah!” Bastin answered.
Luna shrugged. “It’s not like I have much of a choice.”
“Oh, you!” Morgan made a face at her.
Luna turned to stare out the window.
Morgan shifted the gear into first and pul ed away from the curb. “I cal ed the resort pretending to be my mother and told them to expect my daughter and her friends al weekend. Then I used my credit cart to buy park tickets—we’re al set.”
I looked at Bastin. “Are you guys real y going to be okay out of the ocean for three days straight?”
He waved my worry away. “We’l be fine. As long as we’re back before the end of the ful moon cycle, we’l have no trouble.”
I nodded, despite the unease that rippled through my stomach. It seemed dangerous to me to take the mers so far from the ocean. I wished I could wave the worry away as easily as Bastin had. Luna, on the other hand, silent and solemn in the front seat, seemed to share my concern.
Bastin leaned forward and spoke to Morgan. “I was wondering if you might put the top down?”
She shrugged. “Sure. Why not?” When we came to a stop sign, Morgan pressed a button and the electric top whirred down and disappeared into the back of the car leaving the four of us exposed to the cloudless sun-fil ed sky.
Bastin laughed out loud and tightened the bal cap on his head as the wig whipped wildly around his face.
I yel ed to be heard over the rushing wind. “Do you guys think this is such a good idea? What if the wind blows your wig off? People wil freak if they see your hair.”
Either Bastin didn’t hear me or he pretended not to as he undid his seatbelt and stood up. Opening his arms like wings, he screamed, “Whoo-hoo!”
Luna twisted around to scowl at him. “What are you doing? You are making a scene.”
Morgan laughed. “Bastin’s got the right idea. He’s the only one beside me who seems to be enjoying himself. You know, the whole point of this trip is to let loose and have fun.” Lifting one hand in the air, she joined Bastin in screaming.
Luna settled back into her seat with her arms folded. “Fine. But when it al goes wrong, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Morgan dropped her hand from the sky and pressed a finger against the tip of Luna’s nose. “You’re so cute when you’re grumpy.”
To my surprise, Luna’s face softened and she dropped her arms.
“Edith.” Bastin extended his hand. “Come up here with me.”
I looked around. Even though the early hour kept the interstate fairly deserted, I wasn’t sure that was such a good idea.
“Edith!” He thrust his hand in my face. “You’re missing it.”
He had me. Of course I would take his hand. How could I not? He could stand on the edge of a canyon, ready to leap, and if he smiled at me like he did now, I would go with him. My frown faded away as I unfastened my seatbelt and placed my hand inside his. He pul ed me next to him. Without the windshield for protection, the wind was more forceful than I expected and I stumbled back.
Quicker than humanly possible, Bastin pul ed me against him, wrapping his arms around my waist. He laughed. “And you’re the one with legs.”
I jabbed him lightly in the ribs with my elbow, which made him laugh harder.
“Watch, Edith.” He let go of me and spread his arms wide. “I can fly.”
Cautiously, I peeled myself off of his body and twisted against him so that my back was against his chest.
He dipped his chin, his mouth next to my ear, and whispered, “Fly with me.”
Slowly, like a butterfly uncurling new wings, I opened my arms, Titanic style. The wind ripped through my hair and fingers, pul ing against me, as if it real y wanted to lift me into the sky. I laughed and Bastin laughed with me.
“See? We can be birds and fly away.”
My heart ached. If only it were so simple, as if by simply extending our arms we could soar into the sky—a place we could share instead of borrowing from the other.
I threw my head back and screamed so loudly it rattled my heart in my chest like the gong inside a wind chime.
Morgan’s eyes, reflected in the rearview mirror, lifted in surprise. Luna shook her head. But as the wind ripped the scream from my throat, the more I wanted it out of my body. It was as if the anguish I’d carried over a love that could never be, a lifetime of hate, and a brother lost, had al poisoned my heart. And now, I could final y rid myself of al of it. I screamed until throat hurt, my arms fel , and my body struggled to remain upright.
Exhausted, I sagged back into Bastin’s waiting arms. Together we slid down into our seats. I thought I should feel empty after screaming the pain from my body. Instead, I felt fulfil ed, near bursting with warmth and love.
After we fastened our seatbelts, Bastin reached over and took my hand. “I wish I could stay with you always. If there was a way . . .” He sighed.
