OVERFALLS (The Merworld Water Wars, Book 2)

by Shields, Sutton

  “For sea’s sake, of course I’m okay! We heal quickly.” Her carefree smile faded a bit. “Marina, do you think we could meet after school at Harbor Heat?”

  “Sure. I told my mom I’d meet her at The Bay Shop, but we could go to Harbor Heat after that,” I said.

  “Good,” she said, stealing a nervous glance at Troy and Trey.

  Raising an eyebrow, I asked, “Is everything okay?”

  “That remains to be seen.” Between her quick mumbling and softer than soft voice, I could barely understand her reply.

  Before I had the chance to bring on the interrogation, Trey said, “We’re gonna be late for homeroom.”

  “Well, if little Miss Time Stopper hadn’t been so prim, proper, and stupidly punctual, being late would never be a problem,” groaned Meikle.

  “I had been wondering where Ophelia was,” said Airianna. “She must be eager to finish her education.”

  “Yeah, she’s probably sitting at her desk, ankles crossed, waiting to take notes, not realizing it’s only homeroom,” Meikle teased.

  “May I?” asked Troy, offering me his hand.

  “What’s this about?” I asked.

  “You once told me a human girl wants to have her hand held when walking down the hall,” he said. “Can’t think of a better way to start a brand new school year than walking in those doors hand in hand.”

  “You’re a prince,” I said, taking his hand before scrunching my nose. “Totally didn’t mean the pun.”

  “Damn my title,” said Troy. “Takes all the glory out of being called a prince by the girl I adore.”

  And melt goes my heart! “So, any word on how the Imperia got rid of the Splashzers?”

  Troy laughed. “Well, see, Treeva and Doctor Tenly knew all along how to remove them, but they opted to let the Imperia sweat it out a while. Supposedly, Helena got so incensed at me for walking out that she threw a fit, stood up, got too close to the barrier, and screamed the room deaf when a Splashzer grabbed her hair and wouldn’t let go.”

  “Oh…God…I wish I could’ve seen that!” I said, the hilarious mental imagery taking me over as we entered the school.

  Walking in, we saw Meikle, Trey, and Airianna standing still as stone, staring at something down the hall.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, joining them. Pushing between Trey and Meikle, I gasped.

  In the middle of the hall, Benji held a sobbing Ophelia in his arms, her face buried in his chest, as a large group of merps, both Fairhair and Ravenflame, berated them with the deadliest weapon of all—words.

  “Miscreant!” I heard one say.

  “You’ve destroyed our town!” shouted another.

  “To the sand below Hades for you, Benji!”

  “TRAITOR!”

  Shoving my way through the crowd, I hurried to stand with Benji and Ophelia.

  “Hey, look, it’s the pumpkin-headed freak that started it all,” said some Fairhair boy.

  “Is destroying our town not enough? Must you now ruin our world beneath the sea? You don’t belong there!” shouted a Fairhair girl with golden ringlets.

  “Muriel’s right!” shouted a small Fairhair boy, nodding at ringlet-girl. “Go back where you came from, nacho cheese head!”

  “Goodness, goodness, look at all the hate you create, Marina.” Katrina Zale sauntered forward, her lips smirking like two skinny snake runts. “The Imperia was obviously a little too rash in their ruling. Had they witnessed this little spectacle, those boxes next to sense of calm, desire to learn from each other, and the bogus ‘no threat amongst the groups,’ would’ve remained unchecked, don’t ya think?”

  “Oh, I think their checkboxes flew out of the porthole when Marina announced herself as the Siren Savior,” said Troy, joining us.

  “Siren Savior?! I mean…that?” shouted a Fairhair boy.

  “Isn’t it a joke?” Katrina cackled. “It doesn’t matter how strong she gets or how many powers she acquires. She’ll never cross the finish line ahead of my family…ahead of us…ahead of merps.”

  God, I hated that her words could simultaneously spur my will and shred my thinly-threaded confidence.

  Katrina, moving to the center of the circle, said, “Don’t be fooled, my family. She’s nothing more than an un.”

  “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s an un?” I asked.

  “Well, name it. Undesirable, unlikable, unsure, unhinged, unreasonable, unbearable, unqualified, unpleasant, unable, unskilled, unusual, unsafe, unsuited…shall I go on?” Katrina asked.

  “You’ve gone on long enough,” said Troy.

  “How about undeserved?! Or maybe even untrue!” shouted Muriel. “I thought the Savior was supposed to help us, not bring the Imperia here and make our town a target!”

  “Y’all done?” I said, hands on my hips. The tight circle of toxic-tongued merps suddenly and forcibly shifted sideways; student’s arms and legs were locked in awkward positions as a slyly smiling Meikle, Airianna, and Trey passed through the gap to stand with us. “Good. Now, if you really want to succeed in the name calling, you’re gonna have to do better than ‘nacho cheese head.’ I mean, I call myself that!” Looking at the blank faces, I rolled my eyes. “Fine, let me get you started…lava locks, pumpkin guts, cherry pus, rotted tangerine scalp, bad spray tan strands...”

  “Now that’s how you do name calling,” said Benji.

  “Thanks. Little heads up, the person being called the names usually has a better stock of self-deprecating labels than the name-caller could ever come up with, and this usually comes from having a bigger, better brain wired for wit. And, Muriel, is it?” I asked, pointing to the curly-headed Fairhair, who meekly nodded. “Right. As for bringing the Imperia here, do you really think we Normals wanted the very people who outlawed us because we were different to come here?! We might be different, but we don’t have crap for brains…unlike y’all right now,” I said, starting to leave when one last thought popped from a floating brain cell. “Oh, and as for me being the Siren Savior, why don’t you blame your own damn legends? It’s because of them that I’m real. It sure as hell wasn’t my decision...but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t put down my God dang, ridiculously bright-headed life for any one of you. And Kat…you forgot one very important un.”

  “Enlighten me,” she said, playing with her Prehendo Animus pendant.

  “Underdog,” I said, walking by her.

  And as each of my friends passed, they offered un’s of their own.

  “Underestimated,” said Troy.

  “Underrated,” sang Airianna.

  “Unexpected,” said Trey.

  “Unafraid,” whimpered Ophelia, clinging to Benji, who added, “Undeniable.”

  The last to pass the merbitch was Meikle. Stopping to stare Katrina in the eye, she growled, “Undertaker.”

  “Put that in your shell bra and stuff it,” I said, heading for homeroom with the most loyal friends in the world. Were we a little campy? Yep. But, hey, that’s how we roll.

  Unfortunately, the morning was only a preview of the petty crap to come. Colorful metaphors, painted in bright red, greeted us every time we had a locker stop; sneers and jeers were commonplace; and the “accidental” hard shove seemed to be a favorite trick of the Fairhair fellas. Granted, their actions totally fall under the lame label, but they were still cruel nonetheless.

  I didn’t expect a flipping ticker tape parade with confetti, music, trophies, banners, cheers, and cotton candy, but I sure as all heck didn’t anticipate a hate fest from the merps, especially the Fairhairs. Not to sound arrogant, but exactly who do they think they’re screwing with? All of the Normals have enough powers to make their finny lives a living hell, not to mention having Troy (hello, he’s a freaking PRINCE, people!), Airianna, Bobby, and Benji’s merperson abilities on our side. What could be going through their heads? Maybe they figure Normals have to maintain some semblance of level-headedness for fear that the Imperia would return. Hmm, unless the opposite was true—perhaps the me
rps hope we lose our composure and go bat-crap crazy, which would condemn all of the Normals with the Imperia. Jackasses.

  After experiencing the functional equivalent of being stoned before homeroom this morning, Troy suggested we all meet at his locker before lunch. Wishing to avoid the lunch line crunch—and accompanying diatribe—we allowed enough time for the Fairhairs and Ravenflames to settle into their cafeteria cliques. Troy, Airianna, Trey, Benji, Ophelia, Meikle, and I enjoyed a quiet walk to the empty food line. Just as Mom said, they were only serving various fish dishes today.

  “Do y’all have anything to eat?” I asked Meikle, Trey, and Ophelia. “If not, we can all share my lunch. Mom is a classic over-stuffer.”

  “Yeah, we’re good. Treeva packed us some sandwiches,” said Trey.

  “Thank God she stepped in,” said Ophelia. “Doctor Tenly was prepared to send us with his new creation, eggshell meals. Apparently, they’re complete meals grown inside an eggshell.”

  “Except the eggshell exploded on him three times when he tried to show us,” said Trey. “The ‘still has kinks, but will probably work after a couple tweaks’ line didn’t work for Treeva.”

  “Uh, yeah, with the whole school whipping out their magnifiers to find our flaws and use them against us, the last thing we need is to be wearing egg on our faces,” I said.

  Armed with bagged lunches, we walked by Lunch Lady Hairnet-less. Much to her chagrin, Troy, Airianna, and Benji skipped her fish-only offerings and followed us into the aquarium cafeteria. Katrina had reclaimed the head table, and, to no one’s surprise, the tiny, cramped, Normals-only table was trashed to the point of being unusable.

  “Guess we could floor it, campfire style,” I suggested.

  “I’ve got this,” said Troy, heading for Katrina.

  As he approached, Katrina smugly said, “Don’t think about throwing me out this time, Troy. I have your clan in my corner now.”

  “Just need a chair. And since no one from my clan—now in your corner—is sitting with you, figure this one’s as good as invisible,” said Troy, snatching the chair with one arm and slinging it over his shoulder.

  Katrina stuck her chin in the air defiantly, though her shifting eyes flashed a distinct glimmer of mortification.

  Carrying the chair to the center of the cafeteria, Troy set it down and called for Airianna and Benji, who promptly joined him. Forming a circle around the chair, they sat on their knees and placed their palms flat on the floor. Each bowed their head, closed their eyes, and gently tapped their pinkies against the floor three times. When they did, the floor shuddered, and the chair started spinning around on one of its back legs.

  “We need one more, Troy,” said Benji, his hands beginning to steam. “Even with your strength, it’s too much for just three.”

  The echo of quick, light steps distracted the room, but it was the source of those steps that held our attention. Running slightly tilted backwards with his arms straight out in front of him, was Bobby. For some reason, his run reminded me of a tiptoeing unicorn.

  “So sorry I’m late,” he said, trotting towards Troy, Airianna, and Benji. “This morning was a nightmare. Mother couldn’t find her seaweed cream wraps. Father had an unfortunate lapse in judgment and turned on her conch lights. She saw the shadow of a wrinkle in her vanity mirror and locked herself in the bathroom until we found her wraps.” Taking off his cardigan, Bobby carefully folded it and placed it on the floor. Troy raised his eyes and glared frustratingly at Bobby. “I have fragile kneecaps.”

  “Just put your palms on the floor, will ya?” said Benji.

  “Of course,” said Bobby, whipping out a pair of latex gloves.

  “Oh, for Poseidon’s sake!” shouted Benji.

  “I’d be afraid to know when this floor was last sanitized,” Bobby quipped.

  “That boy is in serious need of some dirtying up,” said Meikle.

  “He wouldn’t survive it,” I said.

  Bobby finally placed his latex-covered hands on the floor. As soon as he did, an enormous blue coral table and floral cushioned chairs rose from the floor. Tiny lights illuminated the table from the inside.

  Troy stood up, wiped his brow, and turned to face Katrina. “You can have the head table. We’ll take center stage.”

  Sneaking up behind Troy, looping my arm through his, I said, “You sure Katrina is a mermaid? 'Cause I swear she looks like a distant relative of the Dilophosaurus.”

  Smiling, Troy asked, “Like the table?”

  “Love the table,” I said. “Although, it is a little on the massive side, don’t you think?”

  “Just wanted to leave room for…others,” he said.

  I kissed him on the cheek. “Love your optimism, but judging by today, I’m thinking we’ll be using these chairs as footstools and bag drops for a long time.”

  “Let’s hope not,” he said.

  “You hope. I’ll be realistic,” I griped, taking a seat at our new table.

  “Or pessimistic,” he countered.

  “That, too,” I said airily.

  “Attention, students!” Mr. Smarmy Anderson just entered the cafeteria with Principal Jeepers right behind him. “We have an—where on earth did this come from?” Mr. Smarmy shuffled over to our table and brushed his stubby fingers along the edge. “Who gave you permission to create this?”

  “Ah, well, that would be me,” said Doctor Tenly. “Nicely done, too! Very well-placed. It’s the centerpiece of the room, isn’t it?”

  “The Normals have a table, as do the Fairhairs, Principal Jeepers,” said Mr. Smarmy.

  “With new groups, new pairings, and a thoroughly unusable table for the Normals, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to have a shiny new one. After all, the Imperia wanted to know if the two groups could come together and live in peace. I can think of no greater display of unity than a co-creature cafeteria table,” said the doctor.

  Knowing he was outwitted, Mr. Anderson pursed his lips and curtly nodded. Clearing his throat, he said, “We have some exciting news for you all! Tonight—”

  “Ahem,” interrupted the doctor. “I’m the principal. Really should be me to make announcements.”

  “Of course,” said Mr. Smarmy through gritted teeth.

  “Tonight, at nine o’clock, we will be making an exhilarating, heart-pounding, magnificent, stupendous announcement!” Doctor Tenly’s goofy spirit was operating on all cylinders. Whatever it was, this announcement had him pumped.

  Rolling his eyes, Mr. Anderson said, “Which means all students are required to meet in the cafeteria by nine o’clock tonight. We’ll see you then.”

  Mr. Anderson stomped out of the cafeteria like a spoiled brat that didn’t get his way. Doctor Tenly briefly glanced at Troy, smiled awkwardly at me, and sauntered after Mr. Smarmy.

  “What’s this all about?” I asked Troy.

  Shrugging his shoulders, he said, “No clue.”

  The rest of the day’s classes were essentially useless, since everyone was too busy pondering tonight’s mystery announcement. On the plus side, the buzz effectively turned the Merpeople’s focus away from making our lives suck. For our last class, Troy, Airianna, and I were lucky enough to have Mythology with Mr. Gibbs.

  “As some of you know, we offer Mythology to seniors every other year,” said Mr. Gibbs, wiping his brow. He seemed unusually disconnected and terribly anxious. “I know most of you are preoccupied with tonight, so just read the first chapter of your mythology books.” Mr. Gibbs then moved to stare out the window, and there he stayed until the foghorn bell rang, ending the day. “See you tonight. Don’t forget, nine o’clock. Marina, could I have a word?”

  “I’ve got to go grab some things before tonight,” said Troy, rubbing my back. “I’ll see you here later?”

  “Yeah, okay,” I said. I got the feeling he wasn’t telling me something. It was a feeling I had grown used to over the past year.

  “I’ll meet you outside,” said Airianna. “And then we can go on to The Bay Shop
.”

  I nodded. “Is something wrong, Mr. Gibbs?”

  “No, no, nothing’s wrong, Marina. I was wondering if you could give your mom a message for me,” he said.

  “Sure. What is it?”

  “Tell Camille I need her to be at the announcement tonight,” he said.

  “Okay, but…why?” I asked.

  “I just think she needs to thoroughly understand what this town…what my kind…is capable of,” he said ominously.

  “Did our danger zone just multiply or something?” I asked, alarmed.

  He shook his head, shoved his hands in his pockets, and started pacing. “Your mother is the only adult Normal remaining in Saxet Shores. Ravenflames have always kept the parents and guardians well clear of this town’s happenings.”

  “Between you, me, Doctor Tenly, and Treeva, I’m sure Mom will never be out of the loop again,” I said.

  “I know that, Marina, but there’s a difference between hearing things secondhand and experiencing them,” he said, somewhat sharply. “Now more than ever, your mom needs to be present for everything. Please, just trust me.”

  “I do, Mr. Gibbs. I’ll make sure she’s here tonight,” I said.

  He half-smiled, grabbed his books, and raced out of the room.

  “Oh, this is not good. Not good at all,” I groaned, forcing my mind to shut up and my feet to walk out the door, to my locker, and outside to meet Airianna.

  Airianna waved from the bottom of the school steps. “Ready to meet your mo—what happened? You have pensive face.”

  “Mr. Gibbs wants my mom to be at the announcement tonight,” I said flatly.

  “Well, it makes sense, really. If it involves us children, it should involve the parents…unless you’re a merperson, of course. Most of our parents aren’t exactly pro-land, you see,” said Airianna as we made our way to The Bay Shop.

  “But it’s the way he spoke. It gave me chills. There was this odd foreshadowing fear behind his words. Does that make sense?” I asked.

  Airianna cocked her head to the side. “Um…sort of, I suppose. Try not to worry about it. I’m sure he’s just extra protective of your mom now that she knows everything.”