“Well, I still think you should give him a chance. You’re wound up! You need some action. Trust me, it does wonders for you when you’re dealing with extras business to just— have fun! It doesn’t matter when he’s human,” she pointed out.
She’d never convince me with that argument. Until a week and a half ago, I was human. Humans mattered. Susan and Rick mattered.
She flipped a U, and in a short time we arrived at her house.
Glenn was already waiting for me upstairs. I sighed and flopped down on the bed, pulling out my human and extra homework for the evening. My eyes drifted over to the rose. I’d placed the flower in a small bud vase on my nightstand. It was still brilliant, but the bloom had burst open further since I’d received it, and the first petal had fallen. Glenn hated it, but it seemed a shame to throw it out.
It was silly and sentimental— especially under the circumstances— but it was the first flower I’d ever received from a boy. I treasured it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Will gave me my invitation during Algebra class that Friday. He’d traded seats with Joe Demarco, placing himself right next to me. I tried my best to pay attention to the lecture, but found my mind wandering.
Half-way through the period, he casually slid a note onto my desk.
I unfolded it carefully, and read:
Please come to my party tomorrow night.
If you don’t, you’re going to break my
A hastily drawn heart was scrawled after the last line.
I glanced over at him. He gave me dramatic, huge puppy dog eyes for a moment, then cracked a dazzling grin.
I smiled back, in spite of myself.
He tilted his head to one side, and raised a brow. The question was still between us.
A blush crawled up my cheeks. I wasn’t sure how to respond to him. I didn’t want to go to his party, but turning him down felt impossible, somehow. I glanced over at him again, and his brows were lifted, his expression still playful.
So I shrugged instead, and stared at my math book, hoping he’d take the hint.
“Huh… I guess I don’t get an RSVP,” he said quietly.
He sounded thoughtful, so I peeked up at him again.
He leaned closer to me, whispering, “It’s more exciting this way.” He chuckled, just a little, and turned his attention back to the lecture.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“You have to go!” Marin said the next day. I was sprawled across the bed on my stomach. Aldan’s books were spread out in front of me. I was attempting to study, but found it impossible with the mermaid’s intrusion.
I sighed, rolling onto my back. “I don’t want to,” I told her.
“I don’t care!” she said, folding her arms in front of her chest and frowning sharply.
Glenn pitched himself forward in his chair, glaring at her. “Sarah says she doesn’t want to go! I think—”
“I think it’s none of your business!” Marin hissed at him. “She’s been invited to the social event of the school year, and you’re telling her not to go?”
“I doubt she finds it necessary to acquire human friends to—”
“Who’s saying anything about friends?” Marin asked, tapping her foot down impatiently, “I’m talking about distractions! The absolute best thing that she could be doing for her mental health. She’s so straight-laced— that can’t be good for her tension! A party would be a chance to enjoy herself without any magical pressure, and maybe she could get some action!” She shook her head harshly, “She’s going.”
“I’m not,” Glenn said with a tight jaw.
She rolled her eyes, snorting. “Who cares?! You weren’t even invited.”
He bristled, squaring his shoulders up. “Do I need to remind you, Princess, that she can’t go without me? I’m her bodyguard, council assigned, here to keep her safe—”
Marin raised a brow skeptically, “Yes, because she’s so very, very unsafe. She’ll be in tons of danger at a party full of humans— humans who would do literally anything she says.” She narrowed her eyes. “Somehow, I’m not convinced, elf.”
I grabbed one of the pillows on the bed and pressed it into my face. Nothing quite like being talked about as if you weren’t in the room.
Marin snatched the fluffy cushion from my grip, tossing it carelessly away. It bounced off the wall and onto the floor near the bathroom doorway. “You’re going. You’re going to dress up, look adorable, and enjoy yourself, or gods help me, I’ll make you.”
“I really doubt that,” I muttered under my breath. I stared into her eyes. “Parties aren’t exactly my scene.”
“And how many parties have you even been to?” she asked me, her hands balled into fists against her hips.
I groaned. “Two,” I admitted. If she pressed for more details, I’d have to add that they were birthday parties... that I’d attended when I was seven and nine.
“I’m not letting your dork past ruin this— you’re not turning into a social pariah while you’re living under my roof. You’re going,” she said again.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Party
Marin shoved me into the little black dress that was hanging in the closet. She’d ordered me to sit so she could apply makeup to my face, but I refused. I already received too much attention. Besides, it wasn’t like I needed makeup these days.
For herself, she’d chosen a minidress that hugged her small body’s curves, accenting her tan skin. The dress was hot pink. She wore a matching lipstick that she applied with a pucker and a pop before dragging me into the car.
Glenn stood at the door, his arms folded over his chest. He was staring Marin down, but it was obvious he knew this battle was lost.
“Lighten up!” she told him, pinching his cheek. Glenn batted her away, but Marin just laughed, “I can take care of myself and Sarah. Nothing’s gonna happen.”
She turned away, gripping my wrist so tightly I thought she might leave a bruise. She pushed me into her car, before sliding into the driver’s seat and hitting the ignition.
“Where is this party, anyway?” I asked gloomily.
She kept her eyes on the road and took the first turn-off down the beach to drive along the packed sand. I cracked the window, inhaling the fresh salt air and trying to calm my nerves. It was sunset, and the orange light gave the water a surreal glow.
“Down the beach, the old Harbor Estate house. I guess it’s the Sanders’ house, now,” she said with a shrug.
My brows furrowed, “That house has been for sale for three years. No one is nuts enough to pay for it. It’s extremely overpriced.”
“His parents were nuts enough, I guess. It’s a gorgeous house. Honestly, for a while I was tempted to buy it, but that slice of beach isn’t any good.”
I raised a brow, “It’s one of the nicest sections of the beach.”
“Not private enough for a mermaid,” she said.
Harbor Estate was less of an ‘estate’, and more of a large vacation home. Rick had done a little remodeling on it a few years ago, just after I’d moved in. He’d been proud to show off the pictures of the work. The inside was mostly one-level, with a huge open loft off the living room and kitchen. It boasted a large porch, facing the ocean. An enormous deck up high wrapped all the way around the house, making for a spectacular 360° view.
The size wasn’t especially impressive— it was only three bedrooms, two baths, a kitchen and a living room— but it was quality more than quantity that made it great. There were artistic details everywhere. Along each step leading to the loft were carvings: seashells, starfish, seahorses, sand dollars. The kitchen had similar craftsmanship in the granite counter tops and mahogany cabinets.
I’d never seen Harbor Estate in person before. Although I wouldn’t mind seeing some of these features up close, I was dreading my arrival. The closer we got to the house, the more I expected to hear the throbbing bass of music playing, drilling into my sensitive head.
Surprisingly, when we arrived
, the night was quiet— aside from the roar of the tide and a few late-season frogs. There were already at least ten people present. I noted with surprise that there were even a couple portable toilets outside near the garage for the guests to use.
I stepped out of the car, shivering. I wished I’d had the foresight to think of the cold wind, before Marin insisted I wear nothing but spaghetti straps and silk.
I followed a bouncing Marin up the stairs of the deck. Some of the more popular kids from school were lurking nearby with red plastic cups in their hands. I trudged behind her, feeling cold and miserable, wondering how long she’d insist I stay here.
Will sat on a bench, clutching a red plastic cup, speaking animatedly with Kalee. She was smiling, but her eyes looked bored. She moved closer, placing her hand on Will’s thigh. When he spotted me, he hopped up, beaming.
He wove through the crowd, making his way to us. “You came. You look— I— wow.” He ran a hand through his hair and gestured, “On the left side of the house, there’s a bar. Um… The only thing is, no one’s allowed inside, my parents are home—”
“Really?” I blurted out, surprised.
Will just grinned at me. “Yeah. They’re fine with this party. I have their permission.”
“But… you just said there was a bar,” I protested weakly.
He shrugged. “I guess I just have progressive parents.”
Marin grinned next to me, “Well, now, I think I see some of my friends, but…” She pressed one palm on my back, the other on Will’s, standing between us and pushing. I had to dig in my heels to avoid literally crashing into him. “I think you two crazy kids should get to know each other. You probably have loads in common.”
Will bit his lip, trying hard to not laugh as Marin sashayed away from us.
I stared at the wood of the deck. “Is that why there’s no music?” I asked, “Your parents?”
He looked a bit pensive before he answered. “Well, that, and… almost everyone who lives around here is retired and in bed early. If I keep my parties quiet and respectful, chances are I’ll be able to have them more frequently.”
It wasn’t the answer I was expecting. Though he obviously had money, Will was more laid back and down to earth than I’d have imagined.
“You need a drink,” he said, gesturing to my empty hands.
I shrugged, feeling uncomfortable. Drinking didn’t appeal to me. Even if it did, it would be irresponsible for me to get drunk. What would happen if I lost my inhibitions and decided to sing? Everyone here would go insane, or worse.
I doubted I looked enthusiastic, but he was already leading me to the bar area. When we stood before the bartender, he looked at me. “What do you want?”
I frowned and mumbled, “I don’t really drink.”
“I didn’t ask you if you drank,” he said pointedly. “I asked what you want.”
“Something without alcohol in it.”
He addressed the bartender, “Give her some punch. Make sure it’s virgin.”
The man behind the counter nodded stiffly and poured a peach colored liquid from a jug into a plastic cup.
I sipped at it. It was alcohol-free, sweet and good. Mango and strawberry and something else.
“Normally I’d drink that with rum in it,” he told me, “but it’s pretty good by itself, too.”
I tapped at the sides of the cup awkwardly. “Will,” I said softly, “I don’t think that— I mean, maybe you shouldn’t be so, um, flirty with me?”
“You think so?” he said with a grin, “But it’s so one-sided. What’s not to love?”
I groaned, leaning my head back and staring up at the twilit sky. It was getting dark enough that the stars were slowly but surely beginning to peek out of the night.
“I’m just curious about you,” he continued.
“Why?” I asked him, my eyes narrowing, though I already knew the answer.
He tilted his head, staring into my eyes for a long time before he responded. “Because I bet, in the end, we aren’t as different as you might think.”
He was wrong, but at that moment I really wanted to believe that we were alike. Something about him put me on edge, but at the same time… I liked it. It was probably teenage hormones and a pretty face.
I gulped my punch, my face flushing. I didn’t know what to say to him.
He looked like he was expecting an answer, but mercifully, Ryan flagged him down.
Will turned to me apologetically. “To be continued, okay?”
I nodded numbly, walking to the edge of the deck. I set my drink on the railing and stared out into the tide. Even if I wanted to pursue him, Will would always be compelled to talk to me. He would always want to know me. We could never have anything real or honest.
I crossed my ankles together and leaned forward, watching a few kids on the beach tumble around. Three were starting a bonfire— two of them laughing and kicking sand on each other, while a third tried to keep the matches lit in the brisk wind.
“Hey, Sarah,” said a voice I barely recognized. It belonged to Conner Hathaway, quarterback of the football team— now the second best looking guy in school. This was the first time he’d ever spoken to me. I wondered if my compulsion had worn off, or if he was just absent when I’d made my announcement. It’d happened with a couple of people this week, so I’d gently reinforced my first compulsion, asking them to politely leave me alone.
Ordering him away sounded wretched, another cruel reminder that I wasn’t human. I glanced at Will again. He was talking to Ryan, looking distracted and impatient. The divide between us already felt staggering. I didn’t have it in me to compel Conner at the moment. Maybe it would be less awkward to just talk to him for a while. So I turned towards him, sighing and pulling my arms around myself in an attempt to keep warm.
“Conner,” I greeted. I felt awkward, so I grabbed my drink and took a sip before setting it back down on the railing.
He smiled up at me, “You look cold. Here.” He pulled off his letterman jacket and draped it over my shoulders. The gesture felt intimate. It made me uncomfortable, though it did provide shelter from the wind. I stopped shivering.
“Thanks,” I said reluctantly.
I craned my neck, trying to spot Marin. Maybe if I asked nicely, she’d take me home. Walking back wasn’t going to happen in these high heels, and I didn’t want to risk Marin being angry with me for sneaking out.
“Any time you need anything at all, you should ask me,” Conner said. He ran his index finger along the back of my right hand.
It was harmless enough, but I jerked back. I felt like my personal space had been invaded. I gripped my punch and took a long swallow, unsure of what to say.
“Easy,” Conner said, “I’m just trying to be friendly.”
I frowned. “Sorry. I’m not feeling very friendly tonight.”
“Well,” he said, moving behind me and gripping my shoulders. “Just relax, look at the stars, enjoy the evening. I’m sure you’ll be feeling our connection, soon.”
I stumbled away from him, not liking the closeness. “Our connection? I know I seem appealing to you, but—”
He placed a finger on my lip, “You’re a little beyond appealing, Sarah. You’re gorgeous, and I’m popular. We’d be perfect together.”
No offer seemed less enticing to me than the one he was making now. I shook my head, feeling strange and foggy, my legs weak. I needed to tell him to get away from me, to leave me alone, but my tongue wasn’t working right. The words came out a garbled mess.
What was going on?
He leaned forward, tilting his head in like he was going to kiss me. The world was moving in slow-motion. I pressed my palms against his chest as hard as I could, but I felt weak. In the back of my mind, I wondered if it was magic that was manipulating my muscles again. I hoped not. I didn’t want to take any more painful medicine.
I laughed deliriously at the thought, and heard, “Sarah?” from a couple feet behind me.
My head wobbled instinctively towards the sound, but Conner kept pulling my face back to him. Will… Will was calling to me. I lurched from Conner’s grip for a moment, blinking back a haze. Will’s brows knitted in confusion, then… anger? Was he angry with me?
A moment passed, harsh words exchanged. My focus slipped from me.
Will slammed his fist into Conner’s jaw, barking, “Leave! Now!”
I slumped down, against Will’s back. He turned so we were facing each other. He was shaking his head and kept repeating, “I’m so sorry, Sarah,” over and over.
Why was he sorry?
He flung Conner’s coat from my shoulders, and I shivered again, but the motion caused my legs to buckle. I couldn’t function properly, and suddenly I was in Will’s arms being carried into his house.
“Will?” a voice called as he closed the door.
“Go back to sleep,” he replied, “everything’s fine.” But it wasn’t fine, was it? He looked like he was so… angry. Like he wanted to kill someone. What did I do wrong?
I stared down at the floor, watching it sway as we ascended the stairs. I vaguely recalled that they were the same ones I’d seen in pictures, with images crafted into the woodwork.
He set me on a bed, made up in navy blue suede. I felt a little relief; the world wasn’t spinning as much.
“I’ll be right back,” he muttered, leaving me alone.
I buried my face into the bedding. It smelled good and spicy, warm and safe. I sighed happily, curling into it. I slid my uncomfortable high heeled shoes off my feet, digging my toes into the soft fabric. It felt good.
A weight dipped down at the end of the bed, “I brought you some water. I need you to try to drink a little bit, okay?”
I lurched myself upright, the world spinning again. I managed to pull myself together long enough to drink the liquid. It was a real glass, I noted with surprise. Then again, why was I inside? Didn’t he say no one was allowed?
I blinked a few times, my eyes slowly snapping into focus as I sipped on the water.
Prelude (The Rhapsody Quartet) Page 13