Shifting (Swans Landing)

by Norris, Shana

  My teeth ached with how hard I grit them together.

  They caught sight of us when they were only a few feet away and their expressions changed to hostility. Elizabeth looked at Mara, her eyes never glancing my way, as if she could pretend I didn’t exist and the time we’d spent together had never happened.

  “What are you doing here, shark bait?” Jackie sneered.

  Mara ignored them and studied her camera. “Let’s go somewhere else,” she said to me. “Somewhere a little more private.”

  Elizabeth’s eyebrows drew together in a tight scowl at Mara’s words. “There’s no such thing as privacy around here,” she said. “This is Swans Landing. Everyone knows what you do.”

  Not everything, I thought, suppressing a smug grin.

  “We’re not doing anything that concerns you,” I said. “Go somewhere else to do whatever it is you’re doing.”

  “This is our island, Fish Boy,” Kyle said, stepping toward me. “Why don’t you go off and swim with the crabs?”

  Jackie and Mark laughed, but Elizabeth glared at me with apprehension etched into her features. What, did she think I’d spill her little secret to these guys? Like I wanted Mara to hear about it. Maybe if she hadn’t been there, I’d take pleasure in seeing the fury on Kyle’s face when he heard it had been me with my hands on Elizabeth the day before. But for now, I’d keep my mouth shut and my secrets to myself.

  “Clever,” I told him. “Did you think that up all by yourself?”

  Elizabeth grabbed Kyle’s arm. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s go somewhere else. They’re not worth it anyway.” She cast a sneer over her shoulder at Mara.

  “Oh, no, please don’t go,” Mara said, rolling her eyes. “What will we do without your company to remind us what scum we are?”

  Elizabeth’s gaze finally met mine. She kept my gaze for a long moment, then finally turned, pulling Kyle by the hand behind her. “Come on,” she ordered. “Let’s get away from the stench. I can’t stand fish.”

  Mara scowled as they walked away. “I’m aching to punch her in the mouth again,” she muttered.

  I kicked at the sand under my feet. “Maybe she’s misunderstood.”

  Mara stared at me like I’d grown another head. “Oh, please. It doesn’t take much to figure her out. Spoiled, self-centered brat.”

  I resisted the urge to look back to where Elizabeth and her friends had disappeared. We were from two different worlds, and we had no allegiance to each other. I didn’t care who she messed around with.

  “Maybe she’s like us, but is too afraid to step outside the boundaries around here,” I said.

  Mara wrinkled her nose. “Are you actually defending her? Elizabeth Connors, the girl who has made your best friend miserable?”

  My gaze darted toward the beach, where I could still see four dark specks growing smaller in the distance. Then I shook my head. “No, of course not. Elizabeth’s not my problem.”

  Chapter Seven

  My body ached with the need to stay close to the water. Reed had already left for school ahead of me, eager to find his place among the soccer team before the first bell. I was lagging so far behind that even Mara had gone on without me. I was a good student, not a genius or anything, but I made good grades in all my classes. The problem was that sitting in those classrooms all day felt so stifling. Some days, especially near the new moon when the pull of the water was the strongest, I felt like I’d suffocate if I had to sit inside the concrete walls.

  My feet had turned off the path before I realized where I was going. If I was lucky, Reed wouldn’t find out I wasn’t in school. He’d tell our parents for sure, unless I could bribe him before he had a chance. I needed a day to clear my head. One last day on my own before tourist season started and I had to be even more careful.

  The silence and stillness that hung over the island among the gray clouds made it almost impossible to imagine tourists coming this year. Already I’d heard people talk about how their businesses might not survive if the tourists didn’t come soon. Something felt different, something other than the weather, but I couldn’t figure out what it was.

  I emerged from the narrow path on the other side of the maritime forest to the little strip of beach where the ocean and sound met at the tip of the island. The water churned and the wind blasted across the sand. I sat down just out of reach of the foamy water that rushed onshore. Seagulls squawked overhead, swooping low to see if I had any food and then soaring away when they realized I wasn’t going to feed them. I closed my eyes and breathed the salt that hung thick in the air.

  A chill crept over me, but I pulled my shirt off to absorb what little sun broke through the clouds. I scanned the horizon as far as I could see into the fog as I sat in the sand, digging my fingers into the golden grains. There was nothing on the water. Ships only passed by far out to sea, rarely ever stopping at this island. The only people who really used this beach were the finfolk, once a month during song night.

  I stared at the rippling water as hard as I could, looking for signs of life. But there was nothing other than the birds swooping over the water in search of fish.

  “Where are you, Sailor?” I asked aloud. “Are you even still alive?”

  Only the sound of the waves crashing toward shore and the calls of the birds answered me.

  After a while, I got up and slipped out of my jeans. I tossed my boxers onto the sand and then made my way into the water. It was still cold enough to shock me a little as the water hit my legs, but I pushed myself farther.

  Only a short distance in, the change overtook me and I let myself slip fully underwater. The cracking and popping of my bones felt in a way like some kind of bittersweet release. I didn’t know how something could be so painful and pleasant at the same time. Despite the few minutes of agony, my body still craved this change.

  I swam for a while, diving as far down into the water as I could and fighting against the rough current that tried to push me back toward shore. I dared a few flips, breaking the surface and arcing through the air before diving back down.

  When I turned back toward the shore, shaking water from my eyes, I caught sight of a figure standing on the beach. Brown hair whipped around her head in a dark halo. She held one hand to her forehead to shield her eyes as she looked toward me.

  For a moment, I let myself think it was someone else waiting there on shore, as she had many times before. I let myself believe briefly that this summer wouldn’t be so bleak.

  But then I pushed that thought away and headed toward shore. I stopped only a few yards out, studying Elizabeth as she stood knee deep in the water. We looked at each other for a long moment in silence.

  Finally, she smirked. “Nice boxers,” she said, nodding her head toward my clothes.

  I admired the lean, muscled look of her legs protruding from her cut-off jeans. “Nice legs.” I’d never been good at flirting, but there was something different about Finfolk Dylan that made me do things Human Dylan never would.

  “I suppose you don’t have any of those right now, huh?” Elizabeth asked.

  I laid back in the water, letting my tail fin flip and splash water toward her. The scales shone a brilliant blue in the sunlight before disappearing back under the water.

  Elizabeth didn’t even protest when the water sprayed across her, leaving a big wet spot on her shirt. Her eyes were wide as she stared at the water. “How do you do that?”

  “What?”

  She gestured toward me. “Grow a tail and scales.”

  I shrugged. “It’s just what happens.”

  I started toward shore, ready to shed my finfolk form and be human again, but Elizabeth held up her hands.

  “Wait.” She waded deeper into the water, fighting to stand up in the rushing waves. “I’ve...I’ve never seen a finfolk up close like this before.”

  It seemed strange that she had lived her whole life on the island without seeing a finfolk up close, though it wasn’t entirely unbelievable. Her father d
idn’t like finfolk, so when would Elizabeth have ever had the chance to be around one in the water?

  I extended a hand toward her. “Come on.”

  She hesitated, looking down at the water around her legs. It was up to her thighs now and she wobbled as she tried to keep her balance.

  “I’ll hold onto you,” I promised. “I’ll keep you above water.”

  She bit her lip, then walked toward me, reaching her hand until our fingertips touched. I entwined my fingers in hers, pulling her toward me. When she couldn’t touch the bottom anymore, I wrapped my other arm around her waist to pull her close and keep her head above the surface.

  We were so close, I could see the tiny golden flecks in her eyes. Her hair spread out on top of the water like octopus tentacles. Her teeth chattered slightly, but she didn’t make any movement back toward shore.

  “Can I touch your tail?” Elizabeth asked quietly.

  I swallowed. “Go ahead.”

  Her hand slid down my chest, her fingers fluttering over my stomach. I suppressed a shudder when her palm pressed against the area where skin became scales as a warm tingle spread through me.

  “I’ve never touched a...someone like you,” she said. “It’s different than I expected.”

  “What did you think it would feel like?” I asked.

  Elizabeth tilted her head to one side. “Like a fish. But you’re more...I don’t know. Smooth.”

  I couldn’t help laughing. This whole situation, being here in the water with Elizabeth, was so strange and unexpected. It felt like at any moment I’d blink and find it was all a hallucination. She would still be Elizabeth Connors, the girl who lived to torment finfolk, and I would be invisible Dylan Waverly again.

  “Why are you here?” I asked.

  “Do you want me to leave?” She moved closer, running her hand over my skin and scales again. “Do you want me to stop?”

  I fought against the wave of tingles that shot through me at her touch. “I’m serious. Why are you out here with me? You’ve always been the biggest bitch in school toward Sailor and Mara and me. And now, you’re hiding out with me, sneaking around behind everyone’s back?”

  Elizabeth pulled back from me. She slipped under the surface for a moment, then came back up, sputtering. She glared at me through the rivers of water trickling from her hair. “If you don’t want me here, I’ll go.”

  She started back toward the shore, but with my tail, I was much faster than she could ever hope to be. I darted through the water, surfacing in front of her. The wide-eyed expression on her face showed I’d surprised her. In that moment, Elizabeth Connors looked something I had never seen in her before: vulnerable.

  So I let myself be a little vulnerable too and told her the truth.

  “I don’t want to you go.”

  Water dripped down her face and off her chin, disappearing into the foaming waves around her shoulders. I reached for her hand and she didn’t pull away.

  “Do you trust me?” I asked.

  She bit her lip, then nodded. “Yes.”

  “Hold your breath.” I entwined my fingers in hers as she sucked in a huge gulp of air. Then I arced toward the water, pulling her with me and letting our two worlds merge into one.

  Chapter Eight

  “The catches are getting better,” Lake said brightly as he hauled another crab pot to the boat and tossed it over the side. It landed at my feet, spraying my ankles with salt water. The crabs inside scuttled over each other, their claws tangled as they snapped furiously at being wrenched from the bottom of the sound.

  Lake treaded water next to the boat, bobbing along on the mostly still surface. It was seven A.M. and I had to be at school in an hour and a half. I didn’t always come out with Lake to bring in catches before school since it was an exhausting job, but I liked doing it when I could. I’d stay as long as possible, then Lake would drop me back off on shore and I’d race to Swans Landing School, smelling like crabs and salt.

  I dumped the crabs from the wire pot into the giant plastic bin in Lake’s boat, then rebaited the pot and tossed it back into the water. “We’re almost full,” I said, surveying the plastic bin where the crabs fought and walked all over each other. The catch was picking up as the water warmed, but it had been a while since we’d had a catch this good.

  Lake pulled himself from the water, expertly hopping over the side of the boat even with his finfolk tail. The golden scales faded and drew back into his skin as he shook the water off himself.

  “Maybe this is a good sign,” Lake said, pulling on his shorts once he had legs again. “If the sea life is returning to the area, the industry will pick up again.”

  I knew Lake hoped desperately things would pick up, like most everyone else in Swans Landing did. The tourists weren’t the only beings that had become rare around our island. Without the fish or the tourists, it was a struggle to hang on around here.

  At least with the humans, they had more options. We finfolk were stuck looking for other coastal towns where we could blend in. Or else, the finfolk homeland, which no one we knew had ever found.

  With our bin nearly overflowing with crabs, Lake turned the boat around and headed back toward the sound side dock. The clouds had thinned today and the sun turned the sky pinkish orange as it rose over the island ahead of us. Most people hadn’t started their day yet and I closed my eyes, reveling in the peacefulness of the morning. The air was silent except for the steady rumble of Lake’s boat. For a moment, I could forget all of my problems with girls and my worries about Miss Gale and whether I smelled as bad as I thought I did.

  But a moment never lasted long. As we pulled into the dock, we were greeted by the sight of a familiar larger fishing boat already docked there. I could make out the white lettering on the back as we drew closer: The Lizzie. Elizabeth Connors’s dad’s boat.

  Mr. Connors stood on the bow of his boat, an old baseball cap pulled low on his forehead atop a deep scowl that he kept aimed our way as Lake maneuvered his smaller, older boat next to the dock.

  I hopped out, trying to ignore the feel of Mr. Connors’s glare on my back as I tied the rope in place.

  “That boat of yours looks even more pathetic every time I see it, Westray,” Mr. Connors called, his voice deep and growling. “Why don’t you put it out of its misery and sink it in the sound? It’d make a better artificial reef than fishing boat.”

  The men who worked for Mr. Connors laughed at this. Lake didn’t respond as he hefted the plastic bin over the side of the boat toward me. It was heavy, but I managed not to drop it as I set it down on the dock.

  Mr. Connors’s ears turned red as he took in the sight of all those crabs in our catch. He gritted his teeth, his fists clenched. Like everyone else in Swans Landing, Mr. Connors’s business had been hit by the decline of the sea life in the area.

  “You’d better hope none of those came from my pots, Westray,” Mr. Connors growled.

  “I don’t steal, Connors,” Lake told him, brushing his still wet hair out of his face.

  Mr. Connors made a grunting noise. “Your kind has always gotten their way by stealing from the good people of the lands they take over. I’m watching you, and the moment I have proof you’re stealing from my pots, I will have the sheriff knocking on your door faster than green grass through a goose.”

  Lake picked up one end of the bin and I picked up the other. Between us, we carried the heavy load up the dock to the parking lot where Lake’s Jeep waited. I was eager to get away from Mr. Connors. He’d always made me nervous, but now my skin felt itchy, like maybe he would be able to see the trace of Elizabeth’s touch on me. I breathed a sigh of relief when I heard Mr. Connors rev his engine behind us and then pull away from the marina.

  “I hope he catches something today,” I said as we loaded the bin into the back of the Jeep. While I was at school, Lake would go around to restaurants on the island to try to sell as much of the catch as he could, then the ones left he’d send to a buyer he had on the mainlan
d. “Or else he’ll really think you stole from his pots.”

  “Harry Connors is always looking for something to blame me for. He always has, for as long as I’ve known him.”

  “Why?” I asked. “What does he have against you?”

  Lake exhaled, blowing hair out of his face. “He thinks I stole something from him, long ago. I didn’t, but it’s easier for him to blame me than to admit his own faults.”

  “What does he think you stole?” I asked.

  Lake closed the back door of his Jeep. “Shouldn’t you be getting to school?”

  The sun was getting high in the sky. I dreaded another day stuck inside Swans Landing School instead of out on the water.

  I sighed. “I guess so. I’ll see you this afternoon.”

  * * *

  “Mr. Waverly!”

  I stopped in the hall and turned to find Mr. Richter, the school guidance counselor, making his way toward me among the students streaming out the front doors. The last bell had rung and I was full of jittery nerves. All I could think about was going to Pirate’s Cove to see if Elizabeth would be there again.

  “Yes, sir?” I asked when he approached. Mr. Richter was pretty young compared to most of the teachers and staff at Swans Landing School, but old enough that he was not exactly as “cool” as he thought he was.

  “I was hoping I could speak with you for a few minutes,” Mr. Richter said, giving me a pat on the shoulder. “Would you mind joining me in my office?”

  I wanted to run, to break free of this gray building and breathe the salt air. I had been cooped up inside for too long, and the end of the day was always draining until I could smell the ocean again.

  But I nodded and followed Mr. Richter back to his office.

  I sat down in the squeaky blue chair as Mr. Richter settled himself down behind his desk. He leaned back in his seat, his hands folded behind his head. “So, Dylan,” he began, “I wanted to talk to you about your college decisions.”