But the day’s still far from over. When Clay finishes drooling on at least half the guitars, he buys some new picks and a soft suede guitar strap, and we drive to our next stop.
We preview about a hundred food trucks and laugh at menu items like Squeeze My Meatballs and Berry Potter Pie. The Fishalicious Tacos tempt me, but Clay points out that L.A. is known for its gourmet burgers. Fish may be my fave, but since getting my legs, I’ve explored beyond the realm of Mer-cooked meals. I’ve learned to appreciate other human food, as long as it’s not overly processed or chocked full of additives. The truck we settle on is painted bright green and boasts organic ingredients. Perfect! I follow Clay’s lead, and soon I’m at the window, retrieving the juiciest burger ever. Afterwards, I steal Clay’s napkins, and he chases me down the row of trucks, grabbing at me with ketchup hands. On foot, he’s much faster than I am, so he catches me in no time. Living on land sure has its advantages.
Our next stop promises even more fun. The central plaza of the quaint outdoor shopping center buzzes with people. Clay drapes his arm around my waist as we walk, and several passersby shoot me jealous glances. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to try on clothes for my boyfriend like girls do in the movies. I find out when Clay pulls me into the first of several clothing stores, all featuring art-deco façades and high price tags. He compliments me on so many outfits that by the time we’re done inside, I’m several shopping bags heavier.
Then we just stroll. We browse trendy odds and ends at kiosks and duck into intimate courtyards hidden among the shops. The European-style cobblestone walkways are newly built but romantic all the same. I’ve never had this much fun just walking around in public before. Back in the plaza, Clay stops me on a picturesque little bridge to admire the pond-like fountain below. I don’t know if it’s the look in his eyes, the fact that we’re so far from the ocean, or the other human couples doing exactly what we are, but I feel … normal. More normal than I’ve ever felt. I bask in that feeling the entire drive home from Los Angeles.
When we get back to Malibu, I’m not ready for the day to end. My siren song has been wearing off all day. Soon it will be gone. My time is running out.
Clay and I head to El Matador Beach, which is within walking distance of both my house and his. The tightness in my chest lessens with the ocean in sight, but I don’t welcome the relief. The closer we are to home, the closer we are to the end of our day. Our last day. No, I won’t do this. I won’t give into melancholy yet. It’ll just make it that much harder to do what I must do.
There are couples here, too, walking hand in hand along the beach. They make this feel like a real date. I cling to the feeling, knowing today will be the last time I feel it.
It would normally worry me to be this close to the ocean around humans. That’s why my family has invested in the stretch of private beach behind our house. But Clay’s hand resting on my hip anchors my legs in place. I can even take off my shoes, bury my toes in the wet sand, and let the waves lap at my feet without fear of transforming. It’s exhilarating.
Everything today has been exhilarating.
“Clay?” I turn to him, taking both his hands in mine. “I just want to say, thank you.”
“Today was all your idea.”
“Not just for today. These last few weeks, being with you has been … ” I trail off, at a complete loss for what to say. How can you narrow down to a few paltry words something that means everything?
“A fairytale?” he asks, a teasing lilt to his voice.
“No!” I insist. “No. Being with you has been … real. This … us … has been real to me.”
Tears sting the back of my eyes. I can’t let him see so I squeeze them shut, will them away.
“Hey,” he says in a comforting voice, “hey, what is it? What’s wrong?” He cups my cheek in his palm, and I lean into his touch. “Do you think this isn’t real for me? It is. Lia, I l—”
“Don’t!” I say, my voice full of the tears I can’t shed. “Please, don’t say it. If you say it, I won’t be able to—”
“To what? Lia, I don’t understand.”
Then his hand drops from my cheek. He staggers back and blinks several long, slow blinks.
No, no, it’s too soon. It’s not enough time. I want to turn my face to the heavens and plead for more time. Instead, I step close to Clay, wrap my arms around him and hold him close. I bury my face in his chest and inhale the scent of him—for the last time.
I can’t do it. I can’t let go.
Today was so wonderful. We could have a day just like it tomorrow. Just one more day and then I could let him go. That couldn’t do any harm, could it? All I’d have to do is tilt my head up and hum. It would be so easy.
A hummed melody through my lips and we could have more time together. Clay could tell me he loved me. We could have everything. Everything I’ve ever wanted.
“Lia? What was I saying?” Confusion laces his voice again. I hate it. I hate myself for causing it. I hate myself for even thinking about violating him one more time when I don’t have to. He’s free from Melusine and now he’ll be free from me.
It takes every ounce of strength to lift my head from his chest, to pull away from his body. This is it. The song has worn off, and I will never sing it again. I will give him his life back and let him live it without me.
All I have to do is turn around. Turn my back on him and walk away. It’s the right thing to do. It’s the only thing to do.
But I don’t do it.
My eyes meet his open, questioning ones, and I stop thinking. Grabbing two fistfuls of his shirt, I yank him up close to me. I raise myself on tiptoe and finally—finally—crash my lips against his.
He doesn’t move. For an instant, he’s completely still.
Then his lips part and I’m tasting him. He astounds my senses. My world becomes a whirlwind of supple lips and exploring tongue, of light stubble and sweet, gasping breath. I press the entire length of my body against his, twine my fingers in his hair, and lose myself in the heady, overwhelming taste of him. His lips and body are firm against mine, a buoy in the storm.
This. This is what I’ve longed for. For weeks. For a year. For my whole life.
Wrenching my lips from his is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.
I step back. He brings a hand to his lips, his expression stunned. I have no clue what he’s thinking. There’s no spell now to cloud his vision of me. Nothing to make him spend time with me, to make him love me. He’s free to dismiss me now, free to reject me. Whatever he feels now is real.
I can’t bear to find out.
With my heart still pounding and the taste of him still lingering on my lips, I turn and run down the beach.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Tell me it isn’t true.”
“Huh?” My head is reeling. All I want to do is be alone so I can crumple without witnesses. Why is Caspian standing outside my front gate? “Look, Casp, can we talk later? I’ve had just about the worst—”
“Tell me it isn’t true,” he demands again, his arms crossed over his broad chest. He’s wearing a shirt. And shoes. I don’t remember the last time I saw him in anything other than a bathing suit or a thrown-on pair of shorts. If I wasn’t a hairsbreadth away from breaking down, I’d ask him about it. Right now though, I don’t care. I just want him to go away and leave me to my grief.
“What are you talking about?” I ask. If I figure out what he wants, maybe I can get him to leave me alone.
“Tell me you didn’t siren him.”
The words are too crisp, too clear. The sun too bright.
This can’t be happening. I’m imagining this. I must be. It’s some morbid hallucination. Maybe I snapped when I left Clay, and now I’ve gone crazy and I’m seeing things—hearing things—that aren’t real.
I can barely keep my legs underneath me, let alone answer him. He takes my silence for the admission of guilt it is.
> “You did.” He tilts his head and stares at me like he’s never seen me before. “I didn’t really believe it. Didn’t want to think … but it was the only thing that made sense.”
“How did you find—”
“That’s your response?” he shouts. “I say you’re a siren, and all you want to know is how I found out?” He lets out a few choice curse words in Mermese. Caspian almost never curses. “You must think I’m an idiot.”
“No, I don’t,” I insist.
“Oh, really? How else could I miss it? What other type of ancient, dangerous magic would my grandmother refuse to mention? What else would make someone fall asleep the second you told them to? You asked me all those questions about sireny,” He shakes his head. It’s a relief when his hair falls into his eyes and covers the betrayal there. But then he sweeps it back with one hand and I can’t hide from his accusatory stare.
“Casp, please, it’s not what you think.”
“You didn’t siren him?” Beneath the hate-filled sarcasm lives a weed of hope.
“I did, but—”
“How? How could you? I thought there must have been something I was missing. Some other possibility. If I just came here and asked you, if I were just honest with you … ” He practically spits the word honest. He’s shaking.
“I’ll be honest. I’ll be honest now, okay?” I say, my voice pleading. And I am honest. I tell him about Clay acting weird and moody, about seeing Melusine siren him, about endless hours of research that led to nothing, and about needing to find a way to help.
“And then, we were on this field trip, and she was so mean to him. Casp, she was controlling him. He tried to break up with her, and she was about to sing to him again so he couldn’t. I couldn’t let it happen. I sang this song he’d written. I just wanted to protect him.”
“That worked? Using his own song?” For a second, the academic in Caspian wins out. Maybe if I can hold on to his curiosity …
“Yeah, actually there’s a precedent for it that I read about in—”
“How long ago?” He cuts me off.
“How long ago did I read about—”
“How long ago did you siren him?” His words escape through gritted teeth. He needs answers.
“Four weeks”
“Four weeks? The spell lasts that long?”
My face heats with shame. “It lasts half a day or so. Sometimes more. Sometimes less.” I mumble the words. He’s going to know what they mean.
“You’ve sirened him every day for four weeks?” A mixture of shock and utter disgust darken his face. Seeing Caspian look at me that way breaks me.
I can’t keep up the strength in my legs, so I let my weight clunk down to my knees in the gravel driveway.
“I had to. I had to. She would’ve just taken him back. Please understand! She would’ve … I couldn’t let her. I just couldn’t.”
“So, you did this for him? To help him?”
“Yes!” I exclaim, so relieved he seems to get it.
“That was really your only reason? You’re telling me you didn’t like it at all?”
“What? No!”
“Oh, please. I heard the way you called him your boyfriend.” He spits that word, too. “Are you telling me you don’t like having him cling all over you? Admit it, Lia. It’s been fun for you.”
I shake my head in adamant denial. But I might throw up, because it has been fun. A part of me has had more fun these past four weeks with Clay than I’ve ever had before. That’s why I had to leave him on that beach. Because I couldn’t bear to hear him say he doesn’t feel the same, doesn’t love me—and how could he when every moment we shared was a lie? Spending any more time with him … I’d be too tempted to do it again. To siren him just to keep feeling the way I feel when he’s near me. I’ve promised myself I’ll never do that again. Not ever.
“What did you make him do, huh Lia? Did he kiss you? Touch you? How far did the two of you go?”
“That’s enough!”
“Is it? He’s not your toy, you know. He has feelings.”
“I know that.”
“Do you? Do you know I have feelings?” His voice breaks, but he continues. “Did you even think about what you were doing to me? You sent me into Melusine’s house, and I went because I trusted you. I have always trusted you. Done anything I could to help you. And you didn’t even think about me.” He looks down at my face from where he towers above me. Disappointment shines in his eyes. And hurt. So much hurt.
“I did think about you.”
“Don’t. Don’t lie. Not again. You know how much my family suffers from just the ghost of sireny, and you’ve dragged me into it again. Dragged my grandmother into it. Into this sick game of yours.”
“Caspian, I didn’t have a choice.”
“Yes, you did. You had a bad choice, but you had a choice. Do you understand what you chose to risk? Your choice could affect your family for generations.” His shouts grow louder, meaner. “Your parents. Em and the twins. Amy. Amy’s grandchildren. Her great grandchildren. All of them would be despised if anyone found out what you did.”
It’s true. It’s all true. Tears finally pour down my cheeks as I picture my family shunned by the very Community they’ve worked so hard to build. Pearls mix among the gravel that digs into my knees.
He doesn’t acknowledge my pain. He just keeps talking. Each word twists the hook in deeper. “And don’t forget the human. You think you did this to protect him? You enslaved him. Just like Adrianna did to her human. Just like all those other sirens did. How could you cause that kind of pain? How did you become like those monsters? You don’t care about anyone, do you?”
“Yes!” Now I’m the one shouting. “Yes, I do! I care about Clay more than I have ever cared about anyone. Maybe I made a bad choice, but I did it for a good reason.” I get to my feet, my own conviction giving me strength. “I stopped. Do you hear me? I stopped today. Now that we have enough on Melusine to keep her in line, I let Clay go. Do you think I don’t know his love for me wasn’t real? That every touch … Of course I know! That’s why I stopped sirening him today and why we can’t be together. I’ll never let myself get close enough to him to be tempted to sing again. No matter what I feel for Clay, I’m not going to push myself on him.” I’m shaking now, too. Badly. “Leaving him was the hardest thing I’ll ever do, and I did it because I do care.”
Caspian stills. His voice is low, roughened from his earlier shouts, when he asks, “You stopped sirening him? You swear?”
“I swear.” My oath is solemn, my eyes wet. “And I’m the one who’ll have to live with that choice for the rest of my life.”
Silence.
Then Caspian clears his throat. “It’s good you’ve stopped. It means I won’t have to turn you in.” The stark relief on his face tells me that’s a choice he dreaded making. “But I can’t forgive you for this. Not ever. You’re a siren.”
I’m everything he’s always hated.
“Caspian, don’t!” I beg.
He holds my gaze for a long, life-altering moment. Then, just as I left Clay, Caspian leaves me. He turns his back and walks away down the street.
As his tall frame gets smaller and smaller, my heart breaks for the second time today.
“Your face looks as tragic as a beached baby seal,” Lapis says from the living room.
I don’t respond. I barely hear her. I’m halfway up the stairs before she rests a hand on my shoulder.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
I have no words. I have no tears, either. Maybe I shed them all with Caspian. Maybe I’ve dried myself out. That’s how I feel inside: dried up, withered, dead.
I shrug off her hand and shake my head. “Alone,” I say. “I just need to be alone.” That’s a lie. What I need is to be with Clay. For Caspian to forgive me. But neither of those is going to happen. Alone is all I have to work with.
Lazuli has come up behind her now, and bot
h of them look back and forth between me and each other, unsure what to do. They’re concerned, but I can’t bring myself to care. So, I take advantage of their indecision and retreat to my upstairs room.
Over the next few hours, they take turns trying to get me to unlock the door. When nothing works, they tell me Mom and Dad will be back from the Foundation soon and Leomaris is coming to dinner, so my parents will expect me to come down.
I sit on my bed, clutching a pillow to my chest. I must look like the perfect stereotype of some angst-ridden teenage girl. Only I’m not. If I were a stereotypical teenage girl, I could text my bf a few emoticon hearts, and we’d get back together. But I can’t. I can’t get Clay back because I never had him. And I never will. He deserves someone so much better than me. Someone who would never do what I’ve done. Someone who he loves for real. These last few weeks have been nothing more than a dream. A beautiful, tragic dream.
Well, I’m awake now. I’m awake, and it hurts more than anything has ever hurt. I’ll never have the dream back.
Dry, giant sobs wrack my body. I gasp for air as the sheer force of them cleaves me in two. They go on and on and on until I’m curled up on my bedspread, exhausted. My chest aches, my head aches, and I focus on that because it’s easier than thinking about what I’ve lost.
The sun has set by the time I drag myself from that bed. My parents are calling me downstairs and, while I don’t want to go, I really don’t want to answer their questions about my absence. Without comprehending how I got there, I’m sitting at the dining room table with a plate of food in front of me that I don’t eat. Lapis and Lazuli keep shooting me sideways glances, but everyone else focuses on Emeraldine and Leomaris.
I don’t understand why until they say they have an announcement. Their happy faces seem surreal when I’m struggling with such gnawing sadness.
“We’re getting married!” Emeraldine practically squeals. That’s right, Emeraldine, my proper, self-possessed sister is squealing.
Her words cut through my fog like a jet ski through still waters. While everyone else cheers, I look at Em and Leo. Really look. Their grasped hands lie on the tabletop, and their radiant smiles fill the room. Em has never looked this happy. Leo, too, looks almost delirious with it.
Emerge Page 22