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The Savage Blue

Page 16

by Zoraida Cordova


  I sit in a circle closer to the track with Layla, Kurt, and some of the boys from the team. Some of the guys remember Kurt’s speed during a practice session a few days ago and grill him on how he does it.

  I down a water bottle in a second and take a moment to enjoy this. Layla sitting between my legs with her head against my chest. My hand is over hers, fingers crossing. I lean forward and kiss the back of her head.

  And then she asks, “How was your date with Sarabell?” I stutter.

  “Did she take you down to where all the fish is happy?”

  “No. How can you even—” I may as well be choking on my tongue. “You know that I’m not—I wouldn’t—”

  Jerry runs past us, screaming at the top of his lungs. He and Angelo have matching red welts all over their arms from throwing snap pops at each other.

  “She didn’t tell me anything. Then I tried to stop her from eating a couple, and she bit me.” I hold out my arm for her to see.

  “That’s from the fox boy!”

  I hold my arms side by side. “I told you about the juiced-up water.”

  “You’re right.” She pats my knee and gets up. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

  I get up to follow her, but Kurt grabs my wrist. “About what you said this morning. You were right.”

  “I was?” I should ask for that in writing.

  “We’ve had different lives, you and I.” He glances around the field at the chaos my friends are bringing to the summer day. “Perhaps that’s why it’s easier for you to see the things I cannot.”

  “I think that you’re trying to say you agree with me about Eternity being a location.”

  “In your manner of speaking, yes.”

  “Good.” I pat him on the back.

  “We’ll need Princess Gwenivere for the next part.”

  Then Bertie plops down beside us. “Yo, T, where’ve you been?”

  Angelo and Jerry stop running and join us.

  “Family stuff,” I say, trying my best to act cool, but I think I’ve forgotten how.

  Angelo smacks my back extra hard. “What I want to know is how the hell did you get Layla to go out with you?”

  “You’re the man, Tristan,” Jerry says. “Total upgrade.” Bertie goes, “Yeah, T, you’re so cool now.”

  “Too bad it’s a downgrade for her,” Angelo presses his hand to his chest, and the guys bust out laughing. Even Kurt McTraitor.

  They look at me like puppies wagging their tails. “Well?”

  I dump the rest of my water bottle on them. “I’m not talking about that.”

  “Ohhhhhhhh.”

  “Not even PG details?”

  “I think he’s serious this time..”

  “Don’t listen to them.” Angelo pats my shoulder, even though he’s the one who wants at least PG details. “I don’t blame you. That’s a serious girl. If you hurt her, I will mess you up with a capital MESS.”

  “Word,” they chime in.

  I hold my hands up defensively. “Aren’t you the one who bought a ‘Bros Before Hoes’ T-shirt for my birthday last year?”

  “That was just a joke!” Angelo takes out his lighter and starts flicking it. He’s already itching to light those fireworks and then run for the hills.

  Surprisingly, Kurt adds, “I’m sure Layla and Tristan are well aware of what they’re doing.”

  “Hold up. What’s your deal, man?” Angelo leans forward, staring intently at Kurt. “You look like the kind of guy that should have a different girl on each appendage.”

  It’s my turn to sound incredulous. “You don’t even know what appendage means!”

  And I duck for his punch on my arm.

  “I do so. Half the girls in school who aren’t faithful to me—no offense, T—are fiending after Kurt, but every time I see him, he’s like, alone. If it’s not your thing, I get it.”

  Kurt shakes his head. There’s something about being with my friends that makes him more open. I don’t exactly see him pouring his heart out to the other stoic members of the Sea Guard. It might be his secret, but he likes humans more than he’ll ever admit. “There was someone, once.”

  “He? She?” The guys press.

  “She.” He picks up the empty beer can and plays with the tab until it breaks. “She was more than—she was everything. Then we were separated.”

  Truth, I’m a little jealous Kurt tells my friends this. Where was all of this when we were on Arion’s ship together, duking it out? For the first time, I wonder if Kurt sees me as a friend at all.

  “I guess it happens when you move around so much,” Bertie says.

  “You don’t know shit,” Angelo says. “Don’t worry, Bertie, we’ll find you a girlfriend. Tristan’s cousins are still in town. That Sarabell was giving me the eye the other day.”

  “She’s—don’t go there, dude. I’m so serious. She’s bad news.” And I’ve got her denture marks to prove it.

  “Like juvie bad news?” Jerry’s eyes peel back. “Like she’ll steal my wallet or something?”

  Kurt and I exchange smirks. “Let’s just say you wouldn’t be able to bring her home to mom and dad.”

  “Ohhh,” Angelo nods. “You mean she’s not a Catholic. Yeah, my mom would be pissed. Still—I’m an open-minded guy.”

  I’m not feeding my friend to Sarabell for dessert. “So, Kurt is always alone? Let’s talk about that.”

  “Was she hot?” Jerry asks. “I bet she was hot.”

  Jerry has had one kiss in his entire life, and that’s because we paid a freshman to do it. He was pretty mad when he found out, but then he got over it when he realized it was better than having no kiss at all.

  A flush creeps across Kurt’s face. “Her hair was long, like rich copper running down her back. Skin white, soft. She made me feel as if I was the only person in the world for her, like I was important. Special.” Then he sits up straight. His wall of reserve is starting to come back and the spell of the day is dissipating. Fat gray clouds are covering the afternoon sun. “Then I had to go. I had to leave her.”

  “Why don’t you go back for her?” Bertie asks.

  “I don’t know where she is,” Kurt says.

  “That sucks,” all of the guys admit.

  Kurt tries to put on his best smile, and that’s when I realize Layla’s been in the bathroom for a long time.

  “I’ll be right back,” I say.

  I run down the stairs to the basement. It’s deserted except for a few stragglers petting each other in the dark corners of the stairwell. The closest bathroom is in the girls’ locker room. I can smell the pine-scented floor cleaner, the stale residue from the dirty gray mops. Beneath that I pick up Layla’s scent, all frazzled energy, burning sugar. It coats my tongue and I swallow against that pull I feel in the pit of my stomach.

  When I push the door open, she’s standing at the sinks, staring at herself in the mirror. She jumps, hand flying to her chest. “You scared me.”

  “What’s going on?” I stand behind her. Place my hands on either side of the sink to stop her from running away. I lower my face into her hair and inhale deeply.

  She closes her eyes and I can feel her heart hammering right against my chest. Her hair is soft against my skin. I can feel the tension leaving her body. She lets herself fall into me.

  “This is so screwed up,” she sighs.

  I bring my lips right over her ear, kissing the tender skin of her lobe. “What is?”

  She turns around, slowly, so I feel every inch of her graze against me.

  She grabs my face.

  I don’t have time to catch my breath before her mouth finds mine and I lose my balance, falling backward and backward until I hit the lockers. The doors rattle, louder than the surprised gasps that come from both of us.

  She bites on my bottom lip lightly, then pulls back and keeps kissing me harder and harder. She’s overpowering me, stronger than me somehow, and I let her. I’ve forgotten what to do with my hands because all I can think
is how much I need her, all of her. I kiss her neck, the length of her collarbone to the dip of her clavicles and down. Warm fingers trace up and down my chest. She undoes my top button and my knees go weak. I press my hands on the hard metal of the locker for support.

  Laughter fills the locker room.

  We spring away from each other.

  “What the hell, Angelo?”

  “I didn’t realize the room was taken,” says the freshman girl clinging to Angelo’s arm.

  I turn on the cold water and let it fill my hands. I splash it on my face.

  “You need an ice bath, bro,” Angelo says.

  Layla doesn’t say anything. She walks around them and runs up the steps. I call her name, but when I get back out to the football field, she’s gone.

  Instead, Kurt’s standing there waiting for me and I know we have to go. Jerry and Bertie set off a blast of fireworks. The sky is still so light that the bursts are barely visible, and yet everyone cheers just the same. I turn toward the street, away from the field, and Kurt follows silently behind me. Even when we reach the train station, I can still hear them—laughter and life and fireworks.

  The street leading to Betwixt, the underground supernatural nightclub, is teeming with people. Everywhere except the metal door with a red star at the top. An invisible cloak makes people cross the street so they don’t have to walk in front of it, keeping unsuspecting humans away.

  This is what cold feet feel like.

  “Are you sure Princess Violet and Princess Kai are down there?” I ask.

  Out of all the mermaids running around Coney Island, Gwen singled out these two. Kai’s father is Keeper of Records and Violet’s father is one of seven council members.

  The last couple of days, I’ve trusted my gut instincts. And my gut is telling me that Violet is going to try to eat me like Sarabell. Then again, everyone says your gut, your heart, and your mind have different agendas. My heart says, “Go find Layla and finish that kiss,” because never in my expert years of kissing has a girl kissed me that way. My mind, which sounds too much like Coach Bellini, says, “Get it done, boy. You’re on the right track. Just get it done.”

  “They love it down there,” Gwen says, knocking once on the door. “When Toliss comes to shore, it’s the only time we get to see other creatures. Mermen get so boring after a while.”

  Kurt and I exchange glances.

  “Not you two, of course.” There’s the knock-back and she steps right through the portal.

  Kurt and I follow, shivering through the cold door. The girl at the front podium is different from the last time. She’s blond and very human. She smells like candied apples and copper. Her fake wings are doused in glitter and she takes my money. A red-haired giant of a dude lets us in through the second entrance.

  Twinkling balls of light cling to the ceiling. Some of them stray away and over to around the long strip of bar. The music is loud and robotic, like the bald guy at the DJ podium is playing a video game instead of music. But everyone shakes their wings, pumps their claws, and sways according to the untzuntzuntz of it all.

  I try to look for Marty and Frederik. Hell, I’d even take Rachel and her trigger-happy crossbow just to see a familiar face.

  “She’s in the VIP lounge,” Gwen shouts in my ear. “I’ll go bring us some drinks.”

  When I turn around, Gwen and Kurt are gone. I’m sandwiched between two elf-looking dudes with glittering skin, who are twirling light sticks between their fingers. I squeeze past and bump into a vampire chick whose deep black eyes make me cold inside despite the inviting perfection of her face. Deep down, I know it’s a trick. That’s she’s dead and her yellow fangs would rip out my throat in a heartbeat. I push past her harder than I mean to until I break through into the less-crowded VIP section.

  I spot the princesses draped around guys in black leather with tattoos and long hair that smells like grass and dirt and fur. Princess Kai is the easiest to spot with her shimmering long blond hair. She squeezes into the corner of a plush, scarlet couch, trying to push a guy’s hand off her thigh. I step toward them to help, but she gets up and goes down a dark hallway.

  I realize I’m standing right beside Princess Violet. Her smile is forced, almost pained, when she sees me, like I’m holding her at gunpoint.

  “Hey.” I can’t even hear myself say it. The electronic song vibrates over everything.

  She looks over my shoulder at the crowd, scanning and scanning. I can practically feel the breath she’s holding.

  “So…” I start.

  “Where’s Kurtomathetis?”

  I don’t think I’ve heard her right, so I lean in across the table and shout. “What?”

  “Your guardian!” She scratches her head nervously. “I thought I saw him enter with you and Gwenivere!”

  I’m not exactly hurt, but maybe yeah. I think I’m hurt. It’s like the time Angelo went out with this girl just so he could hook up with her hot sister. I feel like that girl and Kurt is her hot sister.

  It’s the lowest low. So I smile and turn around. I don’t need this. When Kurt and Gwen come back, they can deal with Violet and her purple hair, which isn’t even as amazing as everyone says it is. I weave through the undulating crowd as if I’m getting carried by a wave. Someone bumps into me from behind, a real hard shove. I turn around, ready to fight.

  But it’s Princess Kai. Her powder blue eyes are wide as saucers, a hand over her mouth in an extremely familiar way.

  “Wait—no—”

  She hiccups and lurches forward, vomiting all over my feet.

  The crowd splits around us, forming a neat path to the exit.

  “Lord Sea.” She keeps hands over her mouth.

  “Come,” I take her by the hand and lead the way. Kai hesitates before pushing out the silver door. “Shhh. Don’t worry.”

  And we reappear on the Coney Island street.

  We clean ourselves at the shower stations on the beach.

  Out in the distance, the grayness cloaks the sky. Unwillingly, I flash back to the day the storm appeared. The sky changed. The wave came. And then I was inside out.

  “I’m so humiliated.” Kai drops onto the sand. Her clothes are wet and her face is red from scrubbing. “I hate it here.”

  “What are you talking about?” I hand her a piece of gum that was squished in the bottom of my backpack. At least it’s minty. “This is the best place on earth…when you’re not getting messed up at a supernatural bar and barfing on people.”

  Her voice is high pitched but she laughs all the same. “You clearly haven’t been to many places.”

  “That’s true, but no matter what, Coney is still my favorite place.”

  Her face is skeptical so I ask, “What’s your favorite place, then?”

  “The Hall of Records.” She licks her lips. “My father’s an elder of the court. A historian. I’m supposed to be his apprentice, but he wants me to be here and—”

  She doesn’t let herself finish the sentence. I’ve never been around so many girls who find me this repulsive. I’m almost humbled, except I’m pretty sure they’re the crazy ones.

  “Your dad wants you to court a champion?” I say it as suggestively as I can because I like the way she blushes, from the tip of her chin to her big blue eyes. My gut, my heart, and my mind seem to be cooperating. I wonder if it’s not having the pressure of Gwen and Kurt breathing down my neck. Then again, when I was captain of the swim team, I ate pressure for breakfast.

  She gets up and dusts sand off her butt. “I didn’t think it’d be so exhausting.”

  “What? Talking to me?”

  She smiles. “No. Being with those girls. I’ve seen better behaved piranha. I told them I don’t like that fizzy stuff but they get nasty so I drank it and it made me sick—on you. I was trying to find a basin to wash my hands. Everything in that place was covered in slime. And when I opened a door, I saw Menana doing something—let’s just say that her father, King of the Rockies, would find a way to ki
ll that demigod. So I turned and ran right out. Why are you laughing at me?”

  “It’s not you.” I take my empty soda bottle and dunk it in the closest garbage can. “It’s all of this. Everyone is acting crazy and they use this championship as an excuse, you know?”

  “I suppose so.”

  “Come on. I’m going to prove to you that this is the best place on earth.” I hold out my hand to her, and to both of our surprise, she takes it.

  •••

  I get two tickets to the Wonder Wheel. The thing makes all kinds of creaky noises that let the fear of falling linger in the back of your head. But once you’re up, you can see the whole park, the black line of the horizon, and the winking Brooklyn streets.

  Kai twirls her hair and glances at me every now and then, like she’s never been alone with a guy before. Her powder blue eyes remind me of those Precious Moments figurines you get at communion parties. When Layla had hers, Mrs. Santos bought about a hundred of them, all depicting a little girl in a white dress with doe eyes staring up to heaven. Layla drew a mustache and little devil horns on half of them, which got us both in trouble even though I didn’t do anything. Even now, as our car climbs the Brooklyn sky, my thoughts come back to Layla. Kissing against the locker. Her hands—

  “I’m not used to heights,” Kai says, scooting closer to me on the cold metal seat. “My father said if the gods had intended us to fly, they would have given us wings instead of tails.”

  I put on my best reassuring smile. “This thing looks old, but I’ve seen two guys the size of boulders get on it without falling.”

  She takes in the new sights and sounds as we get higher and higher. I wish I’d bought her cotton candy or some strawberry-sugared popcorn. The thing about me is that I love making girls happy. There are just so many of them that I never know where to start. Plus, Kai is sweet and isn’t trying to eat me.

  “You said your dad’s a historian?”

  Her eyes brighten. “He’s quite famous actually. He’s the eldest of the elder historians, which sounds funny but it’s a great accomplishment to have served under two sea kings. Three, once the championship is over. I’ve grown up cataloging and organizing scrolls my whole life. He’s forced me to come here. Thinks now that Brendan’s champion, I have to do it for the family.”

 

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