Fish out of Water

by Natalie Whipple

  “Believe me, I will.” There’s a pause. “Are you okay? Maybe I shouldn’t have told you. I can feel you worrying from here.”

  I let out a long sigh. “I’m not feeling great.”

  “Aw, just look at it this way—they’re scared because he actually does care about you a lot. That’s good, isn’t it? Shrey told me about your date … I think you like him a lot more than you’re letting on.”

  “See you tomorrow, okay? I need to watch Betty.”

  She gives me a frustrated sigh. “Fine. Call me, okay?”

  “Yeah.” I hang up, my heart a mishmash of ugly emotions. I tell myself not to believe what London’s mom said, but it repeats over and over in my head. What if Dylan does leave? Why does he like me?

  “Who’s calling you exotic?” Dylan’s voice comes from behind, and I turn to find him leaning on the doorjamb.

  “Spying on me, huh?” I stand up, force myself to brush off Olivia’s news. “Since you’re done in here, I’ll show you how to do the koi pond. C’mon, Betty, let’s go outside and help Dylan.”

  She gives me a knowing look. “If you say so.”

  I show him how to scrub off the excess algae and clean the filter, then comes the water replacement. Betty sits on the porch, watching us and complimenting Dylan more. I keep pointing out spots he missed. He goes back to them without complaint, but eyes me with what I think is worry. “You never answered my question.”

  “Because you don’t need to know.” I fold my arms, staring at the pond. “You missed over there.”

  He moves the long scrubber to the right spot. “I have a feeling it has something to do with me, though, because you were nice and now you’re prickly again. The only thing that happened in between was that phone call.”

  “It’s just … ” I glance over my shoulder, and sure enough Betty is looking on intently, as if we’re more interesting than a TV drama. “Can’t really talk about it right now, okay? We have an audience.”

  “When can we talk about it, then?”

  I chew on the inside of my lip, thinking. I can’t stand to wait any longer, like what Olivia relayed pushed me over a cliff. London can’t have him. Not ever. Dylan’s knowing smile and thoughtful conversations and perfect gifts are mine. “Can you meet me somewhere after my parents get home?”

  “Anywhere.”

  “The beach where Shrey and I made the dragon, then. I’ll try to get there by seven.”

  He smiles. “You mean Lovers Point?”

  I glare at him. “Time for saltwater tanks.”

  “As you wish.” The words give me goose bumps.

  After Dylan leaves, time slows to a crawl. I keep looking at the clock, wondering why it’s not six yet. It should be. Betty flips through channels, frowning at everything. I put on The Princess Bride again—she always ends up liking it if she can get past the part where Westley first dies.

  Finally, my parents show up. I tell them I’m going to the beach, but can’t bring myself to mention that Dylan will be there. Maybe if things … I’ll think about it later. Right now I need to go. I need to see him. I can’t pedal fast enough—there are too many lights and cars and tourists in my way. When I get to the beach, there are plenty of people soaking in the pleasant evening sun.

  Scanning the shoreline as I walk down the cliff steps, I spot him sitting at the water’s edge. He’s changed into different clothes, shorts and a royal blue shirt. He watches the water, his face set in a serious expression. I wonder what he’s thinking about, if he’s as antsy as I am. Then he turns, and he finds me immediately.

  When he smiles, all I can think is that I need him and he is mine and no one else can have him. How I could ever think differently, I don’t know.

  “Hey,” he says as I sit next to him.

  “Hey.” I want to touch him, to give in without any explanation at all. That’s how I know I’m ready to hear the whole story—it won’t change how I feel about him. He’s not that person anymore. I’m sure of it. “So are you gonna tell me?”

  “If you want me to,” he says tentatively.

  “I do.”

  He gulps. “Okay, here goes nothing. It all began when I started doing well in the Junior PGA tournaments—a lot of coaches were saying I had a real chance at going pro. There were even pro golfers offering to teach me, but my dad had other plans. He didn’t want me to be a pro. He wanted me to go to college and take over his investment firm.

  “I never wanted to, and for a while I kept going to my tournaments and figured he’d drop it. But then I started getting calls telling me I wasn’t allowed to play. They don’t just un-invite people, by the way. The Junior PGA doesn’t have any score requirements to participate.”

  My brow furrows. “You mean … did your dad tell them to stop letting you play?”

  “More like paid them to stop me from playing. I was pissed, but he didn’t care. He said I could play all the golf I wanted for fun, but no way would I be professional. I was his heir—according to him my only choice was the company.

  “So I started doing stupid stuff to get back at him. He couldn’t make me go to college if I failed my classes. He couldn’t stop me from being labeled a bad boy no one wanted their daughters around. If I ruined my chances in high school, then I could do what I wanted.”

  “That’s horrible logic,” I say.

  He smirks. “I know. Looking back, it all seems stupid, but here’s the worst thing: it didn’t stop him. I never did an assignment, never turned in my papers, failed tests, and yet somehow I would always end up with a passing grade in all my classes. I never even applied for college, but I still got an acceptance letter from Yale.”

  That’s when my jaw drops.

  “He paid everyone off. To me, it was his way of saying he didn’t care what I wanted to do. He was going to make me do what he wanted. The Yale thing … that’s when I cracked. So, yeah, I took a company credit card and maxed it. If there’s one thing my dad cares about, it’s money. Losing that much, I finally pissed him off enough for him to realize I wouldn’t go along with his plans.”

  “That’s when he kicked you out?” I ask.

  Dylan shakes his head. “He was going to force me into the military, said I needed to learn respect. He threatened to press charges for the party I threw, since there were drugs and I’d technically stolen his card. So it was prison or military, but then my uncle stepped in and here I am.”

  I stare at the ocean, taking in the information. It makes sense. I still don’t think it was right, but I get how someone like Dylan could crumble under such expectations. He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who’d survive in a suit and tie, stuck in an office. Maybe he had everything, but the price was too steep.

  “So do you hate me now?” he asks, which is when I realize I haven’t said anything for a while.

  “No. It’s just … sad. Maybe I want to do what my parents do, but they wouldn’t get mad if I chose something else.”

  “You’re lucky. Not everyone has such understanding parents.”

  I nod. Though they expect a lot from me in their own way, they are pretty understanding. “I have one more question.”

  “Okay.”

  It sounds so stupid in my head, and yet I have to know. “Why do you like me?”

  “What?”

  I wrap my arms around my knees. “I don’t understand why you would. First we fought a lot, and then it started to change. Sometimes I wonder if maybe I’m some new toy to play with.”

  “Mika, in all honesty, you’re the first girl I haven’t seen that way. It kinda freaks me out, actually.” He comes a little closer. “Fighting or not, everything hurts less when I’m with you.”

  My heart, how it flutters. “When did it happen?”

  “It started when you bought that fish.”

  I look at him, surprised. “The first day we met? When you flipped me off and yelled at me?”

  He winces. “I’m trying to forget that part. But yeah, when you said everyone deserves a r
eal home, it hit me. I’ve had a lot of things, but I’ve never had that. You always say things that make me think, and you don’t pander to me. I really like that. You’re also hot, but that’s not very romantic, is it?”

  I smile. “Not really, but it’s nice to hear anyway. You’re not so bad looking either.”

  “Oh yeah?” He raises an eyebrow. “Does that mean I can kiss you now?”

  “Hmm, yes.” I grab his arm and pull him close. When my lips meet his, I’m glad we’re in a public place because, wow, he’s a good kisser. I might be tempted to do a lot more if there weren’t people around.

  He pulls away first and runs a hand through his hair. “Damn. Where’d you learn to do that?”

  “Shh.” I tug him back to me, buzzing from the sensation of his lips on mine. He puts his hand on the back of my neck, and I wrap my arms around him. Who cares how many people are out here? I’m kissing him all night.

  After a while I realize someone is calling my name. It’s annoying. I’m busy. But it’s getting louder, and I finally look up. My eyes go wide as I take in Olivia and Shrey standing maybe ten feet away, hands on hips.

  Chapter 28

  There’s a long moment before anyone talks. Dylan and I stand as they close the remaining distance. What am I supposed to say? Shreya and Olivia have these smug grins, and somehow I know they’re thinking, “I told you so.” I hate when they’re right, but, well, I’d like to get back to kissing Dylan.

  “Finally,” Shreya blurts out.

  “Seriously!” Olivia blatantly checks out Dylan, and then looks back to me. “He’s even better looking in person. How did you keep your hands off that?”

  Dylan laughs like this is the funniest statement he’s ever heard. “Your friends are awesome. Who’s the tall one?”

  “Olivia,” I grumble.

  “Nice to meet you.” He goes to shake her hand. “You were the one on vacation in Tahiti?”

  She nods, seeming star struck by him.

  I grab his hand just to make sure she doesn’t get any ideas. Not that she would, but I can’t escape this need to make sure everyone knows Dylan is mine. Especially now that I’ve decided to go all in. “How’d you know she was in Tahiti?”

  Shreya raises her hand. “Might have mentioned it on the phone.”

  Olivia waves her hand. “That doesn’t matter right now. We have a problem—a big problem.”

  I finally realize that they tracked me down for a reason. I don’t have my phone … they must have asked my parents where I was, which means this could be pretty serious. “What?”

  Shreya shrinks. “I slipped up.”

  “Huh?” Then it clicks. “Wait, you mean about Pavan?”

  She nods. “I left my phone in the kitchen while I was serving, and he called from Rachelle’s number. My mom answered it even though it was just numbers, and she flipped. But that’s not the worst part … ”

  Shreya’s face cracks as she folds into herself. Without a second thought, I put my arms around her shoulders. Olivia finishes the story for her. “Shrey tried to lie and say she always hangs up, but she said she hadn’t talked to Pavan or Rachelle. Her parents never asked what his fiancée’s name was, so they knew she’d seen him again. They kicked her out.”

  “Oh, Shrey, I’m sorry I didn’t have my phone.” I hug her tight.

  “I still can’t believe they actually kicked me out. What am I gonna do about school? Why does it have to be like this?” She sniffles into my shoulder.

  “I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out.” I look to Dylan, who seems slightly uncomfortable with the turn of events. “I have to go.”

  He nods, his smile sad. “Of course. Take care of Shreya.”

  Shreya pulls away from me, seeming embarrassed about crying in front of him. “Sorry for ruining your date.”

  He shakes his head. “Mika was out of control anyway. It was good you interrupted.”

  “Hey!” I punch his shoulder.

  He grabs my arm, pulling me in for a quick kiss. “What were you saying?”

  “Uh … ” Why can’t I remember? His lips should not be able to do that to me. “Don’t do that!”

  He laughs. “See you later.”

  As he walks off, I try to focus on Shrey and Olivia, but my eyes drift to Dylan constantly. He keeps looking back at me, and it makes everything real.

  “Mika!” Olivia snaps her fingers in my face. “Jeez, is he really that good a kisser?”

  I shake it off. “Yes, but this is more important. I’m here. I swear. Do you need a place to stay, Shrey? My house is yours, you know that. My parents would totally understand.”

  She bites her lip. “But you already have Betty to deal with … ”

  “You’re not someone ‘to deal with’—you’re my friend! And you don’t have Alzheimer’s last I checked.”

  Olivia sighs. “I wish I could put you up, Shrey, but our apartment is so small. I don’t think my mom would go for it. She’s touchy about her personal space, especially after having to massage people all day.”

  “C’mon, my house. You can sleep with me!” I say, laughing. “My bed’s big enough. I’m pretty sure Dylan won’t mind.”

  Shreya tries not to smile. “I feel like I’m imposing. Maybe I should stay with Pavan and Rachelle.”

  I frown. “Where’s he living now?”

  “Salinas. At Rachelle’s place.”

  “Salinas!?” I shake my head. “No. That’s like thirty minutes away, and you don’t have a car. We’d never see each other. Inconceivable!”

  Olivia purses her lips, eyeing Shreya thoughtfully. “I can see why you’d want to be with family, but we’d really miss you if you moved.”

  “I can’t just stay at Mika’s house forever, though!” She wraps her arms around herself. “I still have a year of high school left, and now I don’t have a job. Maybe your family would let me stay a few weeks, but almost a whole year?”

  I hate that she’s right. My parents are nice, but I still don’t know how long they’d be able to handle such a full house. “We don’t have to plan your whole future right now. It just happened, and maybe they will change their—”

  “They won’t!” Shreya stomps her foot. “Stop saying that. You don’t get it. Not every family is accepting like yours! My parents told me I was dead. To never come back.” She bursts into tears.

  This time Olivia gives the hug. She looks at me, seeming upset with the way I’m handling this. But I don’t know how else to deal with it. Shreya’s right—I don’t understand. I can’t fathom why marrying a sweet, white girl is such a huge problem. My friend shouldn’t have to deal with this. No one should. I feel like I’m living in a different century.

  “There’s only one thing to do,” I say.

  “W-what?” Shrey says through her sobs.

  “Buy a butt load of ice cream and watch movies all night, duh.” I hook my arm with hers, and Olivia does the same on the other side. “There are no rules saying we have to handle this like adults.”

  “First we raid her room,” Olivia says, seeming to have brushed off whatever was bothering her. “While we’re at the not-being-responsible thing.”

  “Good idea!” I laugh, trying to lighten up an impossibly heavy situation. “Your parents are at the restaurant anyway. It’s like breaking and entering, but not. We can feel deviant without actually doing something illegal!”

  Olivia nods. “That’s the best kind of crime.”

  Shreya snorts through her tears. “You guys are so stupid. I love you.”

  “Of course you do.” I make an exaggerated seductive face, and by her laugh I know I must look ridiculous. But at least she’s smiling. The rest we’ll have to figure out later.

  Chapter 29

  The next morning, Betty glares at Shreya from across the table. Shrey tries to ignore it, but I can tell it bugs her. Though I’m trying to be nicer to Betty, it’s hard to get used to her increasing lack of manners. Trying to laugh it off like Joel is better than bein
g mad all the time.

  “Mom, eat your oatmeal,” Dad says.

  She jumps out of her death glare. “Oh. But who is that strange girl?”

  He sighs. She’s asked this four times since last night, and it seems like his patience with her is gone. “Shreya is Mika’s friend. She’s staying with us because her parents have the same problem you had with Yumi—so they kicked her out.”

  “I didn’t kick you out!” Betty says indignantly. “You left all on your own.”

  “After you told me you’d never see me again unless I broke up with ‘that Japanese girl,’ though you used a bad word. I didn’t break up with her, and so you stopped talking to me. Except when you needed money, of course.”

  “Who else could I call? Jenny still lives off me, for crying out loud.” Betty frowns. “It’s just not right, mixing.”

  I roll my eyes, the sting of her words gone now that I know she’s a broken record. “Here we go again.”

  Dad pinches the bridge of his nose. “I can’t wait for Joel to show up.”

  “Sorry, Shreya,” Mom says, cringing. “I’m afraid our family issues are hard to hide lately.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Shreya says. “It’s oddly comforting.”

  Mom smiles at her, and we continue eating breakfast in pleasant silence. Last night we worked out that Shreya could stay at least through the end of the summer. My parents seemed wary about committing to more, but I still hope things will miraculously work out before we have to decide what happens then.

  “Mom,” Dad repeats, his voice sharp. “Eat your oatmeal.”

  “Okay! I’m not a child.” Betty takes a bite and makes the sourest face. “It’s cold. And bland.”

  He gets up and throws Betty’s bowl back in the microwave forcefully. Mom sips at her orange juice, looking embarrassed. “Shreya, what are you doing today? Should I tell Joel you’ll be here?”

  “Oh, umm … ” She looks down, the air suddenly uncomfortable. “No. I think I should look for a job. I’ll come back when Mika does.”

  My mom nods. “Sounds like a good idea, but you can stay here if you want to. We just need to let Joel know. He’s wonderful. You’ll like him.”