“He did what?” Shannen shouts as she cuts out a picture of Brad Pitt to paste into her collage.
“Quiet,” I snap. I don’t need the entire art class knowing what happened in the bathroom. It’s bad enough they already know what happened in the cafeteria.
Shannen lowers her voice to as close to a whisper as she can manage. “He trapped you in the stall?”
“Yes.” Rescued is more like it, though I’m not about to admit that out loud.
I find a picture of a dolphin in National Geographic and quickly tear out the page. We are each making a “biographical collage” using magazines and catalogs. So far, I’ve got an underwater background, a pair of clown fish, and a Swarovski tiara from Neiman Marcus. Thankfully, Mrs. Ferraro is all about abstract expression. She won’t question the weirdness in my collage, as long as I have a convincing reason.
“You know…,” Shannen murmurs, staring intently at her picture, “Quince kind of looks like Brad. Dark blond hair, square jaw line, piercing blue eyes. I wouldn’t mind being stuck in a stall with him for an hour or two.”
I refuse to even respond to that. Quince Fletcher is as far from Brad Pitt as a sea cucumber is from becoming king of Thalassinia.
“He always wears those tight biker tees, and his jeans are worn smooth in just the right spots—”
“Enough!” I stab some glue to the back of the dolphin picture and slap it down onto my collage. “We are not talking about him. All right?”
“All right,” Shannen says slowly, tucking a lock of dark brown hair behind her ear. “Why did you glue that dolphin upside down?”
Okay, so I’m a little distracted. “He’s doing the back-stroke.”
Shannen shrugs and goes back to her collage. I’m sure I haven’t heard the last of it. She’s not exactly the let-it-go type.
But my mind is less on Quince and more on his offer.
I haven’t felt so conflicted since Daddy asked if I wanted to go live with Aunt Rachel for a while. At the time I’d known for only a few days about Mom being a terraped. All of a sudden there was this whole other side of me that I didn’t even know about. Then Daddy told me Mom had a sister who lived on the mainland off the western edge of our kingdom. Aunt Rachel knew all about us, about me, and when Daddy’d gone to talk to her about me learning the truth about Mom, she’d suggested I might like to go to high school. The same high school my mom had attended.
He asked me what I wanted to do, and I honestly didn’t know the answer. Part of me really wanted to find out everything I could about Mom. She’d died long before I could remember, and the chance to learn more about her was really appealing. Another part of me was scared to death at the idea of moving into a completely foreign world. I’m a mermaid—mer, as in sea. I belong in the ocean.
In the end, curiosity overcame my fear.
My emotions are swirling just as wildly right now. On top of Quince’s bizarre offer, I’m not exactly thinking clearly after the whole I-love-you-but thing.
I sigh as I cut out a picture of a girl with crazy blond hair.
“So,” Shannen says after gluing tons of little pink hearts from a perfume ad around Brad’s head, “are you going to meet him?”
“Meet who?” Since I am blocking Quince from my thoughts, I can’t imagine who she’s talking about. Or at least I’m trying to block him from my thoughts.
She spears me with a don’t-play-games-with-me-I’m-your-best-friend-and-I-know-you-way-better-than-that look.
My shoulders slump. “I don’t know.”
“Let’s consider your choices.” She sets down her scissors and pushes her collage to the side so she can lean closer. “Option A: You do things your way, like you did at lunch, and end up with the same old results.”
Wincing, I shake my head. I’ll pass on a repeat of that moment, thank you very much. Clearly I can’t catch Brody on my own.
“Right,” she says. “Option B: You take a chance that Quince, who presumably has a Y chromosome in his DNA and happens to have insider information from your target’s ex-girlfriend, can actually help you.”
I run a hand through my hair. My fingers get stuck in the mess of curls, and I have to wiggle them free.
“That leaves me with two questions.” I absently glue the clown fish so they are riding on the dolphin’s belly. “One, will he actually help me, or is this just his latest trick to torment me? And two, if he actually does want to help…why?”
Shannen smiles wryly. “There’s only one way to find out the answer to both of your questions.”
Our eyes meet, my gaze resigned and hers matter-of-fact. We both say, “Meet him.”
My stomach is so full of butterfly fish that I don’t even laugh when Shannen says, “Jinx.”
I’m putting my faith in Quince Fletcher.
I’m already jinxed.
In the fifteen minutes I spend waiting for Quince in the parking lot, my imagination desperately tries to come up with some idea of what his plan might possibly entail.
Maybe he’s going to pay Brody to date me. Highly unlikely, since Quince and his mom have no money to spare. Maybe he’s going to suggest I pay Brody to date me. Bad idea for so many reasons, not the least of which is the fact that I have even less money than Quince. You can’t exactly get an after-school job with a Thalassinian Social Security number.
Ooh, maybe Quince is going to help me kidnap Brody and keep him tied up in our basement until he realizes he loves me. Unlikely. That idea has two major flaws. First, that only works in the old-timey romance novels Aunt Rachel reads. Second, we don’t have a basement.
Okay, this waiting thing is getting ridiculous. I’m giving him to a count of twenty to show up, then I’m out of here.
Quince roars up on his motorcycle just when I’ve gotten to seventeen. I should have left after ten.
A plastic bag comes flying through the air and smacks me in the chest. Instinctively, I grab it before it falls. It feels soft and squishy.
Oh, no. It’s rope and a hood, isn’t it? He really is going to kidnap Brody. I take a deep breath and reign in my imagination. I scowl at Quince. If he hadn’t kept me waiting so long, I never would have come up with these ridiculous ideas.
“What is this?” I ask, looking for a store label on the bag and only find THANK YOU FOR SHOPPING WITH US.
Quince grins. “Your costume.”
“Excuse me?” I step off the curb and approach his bike warily. I’ve heard horror stories about parts flying off this piece of junk. “My costume?”
“For the dance.” He grabs the bag back and opens it, pulling out a white frilly blouse and a multicolored, multiruffled skirt.
“A Spanish dancer?” I scoff, not really having anything against the idea other than it being Quince’s.
He winks at me. “Nope,” he explains. “A pirate wench.”
“Wha—”
“I have it from a very reliable source,” he continues, “that Bennett is going as a pirate. This is part one of two in Operation Surprise and Shock. Surprise him by going as his female counterpart.” He holds up the costume. “A pirate wench for a pirate pans—”
“Fine!” I snatch the costume back. It could be worse. Shannen will approve, since it fits the Under the Sea theme. As I stuff it into my bag, I ask, “What if it doesn’t fit?”
That arrogant smile returns. “Darlin’,” he drawls, “I had you in my lap for a good ten minutes today. It’ll fit.”
I’ve been trying to block that memory from my mind all afternoon. Not that I succeeded. The scent of leather and mint toothpaste followed me everywhere. The scent of Quince.
My cheeks burn, but I am determined not to let him rattle me. “What is part two of the plan?”
“Mmm.” He rubs his hands together. “Shock. This is the best part.”
I don’t think I’m going to like part two.
“At nine thirty, Brody is going to get a note asking him to meet Courtney in the library so she can give him back his class ring.”
Oh, I know I’m not going to like part two.
“Only it won’t be Courtney waiting for him. It will be you.”
I hate part two.
“Then you kiss him. Shocking, no?”
No, I hate Quince. I love part two.
Not the kissing part—what kind of mergirl does he think I am?—but I can see the possibilities. Me and Brody. Alone. In the darkened library. Maybe I’ll finally be able to find the courage to tell him how I feel. And maybe, if he shows even a hint of interest in return, I’ll tell him even more. To Brody I would tell everything.
“I-I-I—” That’s not coming out at all right. “How can I be sure it will—”
“Trust me.” He kicks his motorcycle to life. “Just be in the library at nine thirty. I’ll take care of the rest.”
Then he mutters something I can’t hear, but I catch the words “idiot” and “lesson.” I’m so excited, I don’t even care.
Lifting his boot from the pavement, Quince twists the gas and squeals out of the parking lot. My insides are a mess. All I can think of are the what ifs.
What if this is all a trick?
What if it’s not?
What if Brody hates me?
What if he doesn’t?
What if everything goes according to plan and I confess everything to Brody in the library tomorrow night at nine thirty?
That’s the scariest what if of all.
Before I can go down that path, thinking about what that could mean for my future, for our future, Quince roars back into the parking lot and squeals to a stop in front of me. Why can’t he ever just leave and stay gone like a normal person?
“By the way,” he asks, keeping his eyes trained on mine, “do you always keep notes in your…private pocket?”
“In my—”
He flicks his gaze down to my chest and back to my eyes.
I gasp and clutch my book bag in front of me. In the morning’s craziness I’d totally forgotten the message from Daddy.
“Perv!”
He just winks and then roars back out to the street. Was that a tint of blush I saw on his cheeks? Doubtful. Quince is never shy about anything. When he is out of sight and I can’t hear the roar of his bike anymore, I drop my bag and reach into my bra.
As I begin the walk home, I break the royal seal and unfold the note.
FROM THE DESK OF
KING WHELK OF THALASSINIA
Dearest Lily,
Your cousin Dosinia’s sixteenth-birthday celebration is this weekend. I’m sure she would love to have you attend. Also, I miss you a great deal. Why don’t you come home for a few days?
Yours,
Daddy
Not likely. I mean, I love Dosinia…mostly (she can be a little boy crazy and kind of a brat) and I totally love my dad. But hopefully, if everything works out tomorrow night, I’ll be spending the weekend with the boy I love. No birthday party in all the seven seas could top that.