by Sherry Soule
“Sure, Mrs. Voorhees,” Hayden says. “Enjoy your breakfast.”
The harsh curve of Neela’s smile as she shadows her mother to a table across the patio gives me chills. Scores are…Neela: one. Me: zero.
“You’ll have to ignore them,” Hayden says. “Neela obviously isn’t dealing with the breakup very well.”
“Ya think?” I turn to Delta and Zach. “What’re you guys up to today?”
“We’re heading to the beach now. See ya guys later.” Zach grabs Delta’s arm, leading her out of the café.
“Neela is rude and her mother’s not much better,” I say, eyeing Mrs. Voorhees seated at a table and scanning a menu with her lips puckered. “I have a bad feeling that Neela isn’t going to get over this easily.”
“Don’t let it ruin our vacation,” Hayden says.
He’s right. If I’m going to enjoy my vacay, I shouldn’t let some nasty girl and her grumpy mother get to me. When I put my hand on the table, Hayden doesn’t reach for it again. Maybe he doesn’t want them reporting to his parents that we’re holding hands.
The android waiter returns with our food, and Hayden and I consume our meal in moody silence. Once we finish, the android returns to take our empty plates and Hayden pays him with red rocks that resemble rubies.
“What’re those?” I ask.
“Zeta currency.” He shoves the rest into his pocket and stands. “Hey, why don’t you go home, get Viola, and change into your bathing suit. Let’s meet Zach and Delta at the beach.”
I agree, then we say goodbye, and I teleport home. Viola is awake when I enter, and she’s wearing a black dress over a red bikini with a mesh beach bag hanging from one shoulder.
“Hey, Sloane,” Viola says.
“Sorry I bailed last night. I just had to leave before I murdered someone after Neela’s cheesy performance.”
“I don’t blame you.” She hugs me. “Zach came by and said everyone’s hanging at the beach this afternoon. You wanna join?”
“Yeah, but aren’t you anti-sunlight?” I tease. “What about your vampire side?”
She laughs. “I’m using sunscreen five hundred plus.”
I laugh, too. “I’ll change and we’ll walk over together. Oh! Wait, I should tell my parents.”
“They took Jonah sightseeing. We can leave them a note.”
In my room, I remove my clothes and yank on a modest one-piece black bathing suit—which covers most of my flab. I might’ve lost weight, but I’m not all about the teeny-tiny bikinis most girls like to strut around in. After slipping on a sundress over my swimsuit, I grab a bag, stuff a change of clothes and a towel inside, and find Viola waiting in the living room, eating what resembles a banana, and we proceed to the beach.
“So what do you think of Neela?” I ask.
Viola shrugs a slim shoulder. “I don’t know her well enough to be all judgy yet.”
“That’s never stopped you before.”
“True. I can say she isn’t the nicest person I’ve met on this planet.”
“You’re being very cryptic.”
“She does have thin arms.”
“Yeah. Boney, twig arms.”
“Those bright colors she wears are hideous. I need sunglasses just to look at her. And where did she already score a tan? We’ve only been here a few days.”
“She must be a witch.”
“I think you meant to put a B on that last word.”
I giggle. “Neela’s a neon-wearing, tan, twiggy-armed-witch.”
“Say that three times fast.” She sighs. “What Neela said about you being a cyclone, so not true.”
“I don’t ruin everyone’s life. Yours is good and we’ve been friends since forever,” I say, then groan. “Ugh, you should’ve seen the ultra-bright, orange dress Neela’s wearing today and she was being her usual nasty jealous-self.”
“The next time I hear someone say, orange is the new black, I will choke them,” Viola says.
“Neela’s a jealous, neon-wearing, tan, twiggy-armed witch.”
“Damn. Hating on her much?”
“No more than usual,” I say. “I get this horrid feeling that she’s up to something besides trying to steal my man.”
“You need a late night tarot card reading,” Viola says. “Too bad I left my deck at home.”
We find Tanisha, Zach, Delta, Hayden, and five Meleah kids lounging on towels near the water. A cooler sits near a Meleah boy in board shorts, who appears to be asleep on his towel. The sand, the color of tanbark, feels squishy beneath my feet. The humid air is thick and moist like I walked into a sauna. Behind us, the boardwalk with cafes and storefronts face the beach.
“About time.” Zach kisses Viola on the cheek. He looks annoyingly hot in his blue board shorts with no shirt and brown flip-flops. His chest is muscular and broad, not a single ounce of flab on him.
Viola arranges a towel under the shade of a sun umbrella beside Tanisha. I stand near Hayden while he introduces us to the other teens. Several I actually recognize from Grimm Haven.
Zach holds up a beach ball, spinning it on one finger. “Who wants to get wet?”
Delta shakes her head and relaxes on a towel under an umbrella to take a nap. Several kids strip off their outer clothes and lay out their towels. Slipping of my sundress and laying out my towel near Viola, I gaze at the crystal blue water so clear it looks like glass with three-foot waves rolling in. I do love the ocean, but I’m not exactly a fan of swimming in it. And I’m generally game to try any water sport, as long as it’s within yards of the shoreline, in shallow water, and I remain at the top of the food chain.
“I’m down for some cooling off,” I say.
I trek across the sand and plunge into the cool water until the waves reach my waist. Hayden, Zach, and the Meleah kids wade out, too—all of them so good-looking and slim in their swimsuits, it’s as if I’m the DUFF among the Teen Wolf cast. I splash Hayden and we play with the beach ball.
My thigh gets wacked by a strange-looking fish swimming by and a light-green stain seeps into my swimsuit.
I stagger in the water, rubbing my leg. “What the hell is that?”
“What’s wrong?” Hayden asks.
I try wiping off the green mucus, but the glop only sticks to the front of my bathing suit, omitting a sour stench. “Gross! What is this?”
Hayden chuckles. “You got squirted by Xenomorphen. It’s kind of like a jellyfish.”
“Ohmigod!” I hop around, splashing water. “Does it mean you have to pee on me?”
Everyone laughs, except Viola. Her mouth opens so wide, I can fit a watermelon inside.
“No,” Hayden says. “Here they literally shoot out jelly, although the smell is hard to get out of your clothing.”
“Ewww.” I wrinkle my nose, splashing water on my swimsuit. “Friggin’ great. I overcame the whole stinky-teleporting-residue problem, and now I get a drive-by fish squirting.”
Hayden moves to hug me, then stops, glancing down at my slimy and smelly swimsuit. “That is disgusting. Maybe the water will rinse it out.”
Not wanting to be a big baby about the fish attack, I splash Hayden. We swim and play with the beach ball until we’re exhausted. Everyone strides to the shore to rejoin our friends relaxing in the sand.
One of the Meleah kids has brought an ice chest full of cold drinks and Delta gets up to help him pass them around. I accept the carbonated pink beverage from Delta, twist off the lid, and take a generous gulp. The tangy flavor tastes somewhat bitter and sour, but I’m so thirsty that I take another long drink.
“I’m starving to death.” Zach shakes out his wet hair over the girls, making them shriek obscenities. “I need nourishment!”
“I say we shower first.” Tanisha gathers her towel and sunblock. “Before we get food.”
“Good idea,” I say. “I’ve still got this gross fish muck on me.”
“Lead the way.” Viola gets to her feet and gathers her stuff. “I want to change, too. I’m all
sweaty.”
Zach leans closer to her. “Hmm, I like you all sweaty.”
She playfully pushes him backward. “Stop it.”
The boys head off to the showers with Delta following them to a picnic table to wait. Waving goodbye to the others, Tanisha, Viola, and I grab our stuff, and hike up the beach to the metal hut-like buildings. The interior has silver walls and chrome tile, containing showers, sinks, and toilets. The combined odors of mildew and flowery shampoos tickle my nose. I’m surprised at how clean and sanitary it is for a public restroom.
“You genuinely like him, don’t you, Vi?” Tanisha asks, stepping inside a shower stall and closing the metal door behind her. “I mean Zach Lancaster.”
“Yup, I really do,” Viola says, raising her voice so she can be heard over the water from her own stall. “Obviously, the boy’s not my usual type, but I have to admit he’s got this sweet side that even melts my cold, dead heart.”
Leaving my bag of clean clothes outside a stall, I walk into the shower and remove my swimsuit, slinging it over the door with a towel. I turn on the water, but it takes forever to get hot. “She’s in love!” I tease.
“Yeah, well, I love YouTube, too,” Viola says with a giggle. “Man, I can waste a whole day just watching funny cat videos on that site.”
“Me, too.” I turn on the water and the warm jets hit my bare skin, rinsing off the salt and sand. “Zach has gotten nicer since he started dating you.”
Tanisha turns off her shower. “Vi must be a good influence on him. The boy certainly needed an attitude adjustment.”
“Are you already finished?” I ask. “I need shampoo.”
Tanisha’s brown hand appears over the stall door with a bottle. “Here ya go. I just washed off the sand.”
“Thank you.” I take the shampoo, pour a dollop into my palm, and scrub my hair.
Viola’s shower turns off, the pipes squeaking. I finish washing my hair and body while they dry off and get dressed.
“We’re done,” Viola says. “Meet us at the restaurant across the street.”
“Okeydokey,” I say, rinsing the suds from my hair and closing my eyes.
The outer door scrapes open and slams shut. I finish and turn off the water. Reaching up, I grab for my towel, but my fingers only touch the stall door.
Squinting, I wipe water from my eyes with one hand. No towel hangs on the door. No bathing suit. Thinking my stuff fell on the floor, I open the door a crack. My bag, towel, and suit are gone. My heartbeat gallops like a racehorse toward the finish line.
This. Cannot. Be. Happening.
EIGHTEEN
I cannot believe I’m naked and stranded in a beach restroom.
“What the holy hell?”
Why are Tanisha and Viola pranking me? Freaking childish and so seventh grade! With disgust, I shake my head.
I shiver and cover certain body parts with my hands. “You guys are hilarious. Can I have my clothes and towel back?”
“Um, that would be a no,” a girl replies, giggling like a crazed hyena in heat.
“You’ve got about five seconds to return my clothes,” I say through my teeth.
Neela snickers. “Why don’t you come out and scold me?”
“Very mature. Just give me back my stuff, you vacation sabotager.”
“Sure…if you breakup with Hayden.”
I roll my eyes. Instead of being the hero of my story, it suddenly feels like I’ve been reduced to the clueless protagonist of a slapstick comedy.
“Seriously?”
“My parents need this marriage and you’re in the way. Plus, Hayden’s family hates you.”
What a complete bitch.
“Forcing him to marry you is pathetic.”
Neela snorts. “I’m pathetic? Ha! You’re a half-breed loser. You’ll stay away from him if you know what’s good for you.”
This girl is actually threatening me?
“Or what? You’ll wear my clothes?” I hug my soaking wet body.
“Sorry, but I don’t do funeral attire.”
“Was that a joke?”
Neela bangs a fist on my stall door. “I’ve been wondering, Cyclone Sloane, how does it feel to get between a mother and her son? Haven’t quite met your destroying of lives quota, yet?”
My heart drops like a stone. Suddenly, I just want to disappear faster than a box of donuts on binge day. What did Mrs. Lancaster tell her? A bundle of nerves form in the pit of my stomach. Obviously, I’m causing problems between Hayden and his mother, and that’s not what I intended. And now Hayden’s mom is discussing it with Neela and probably her mother, too.
On tiptoes, I peek over the stall door. “Just give me my clothes back, Neela.”
“No.” Her mouth twists between a smirk and a frown. “So, you’re naked again, like the day Hayden’s mother caught you putting the moves on him. Shameless.”
I slump down and lean into the cold, damp wall. My chest clenches and it’s hard to breathe. Wow. Way to spread the Sloane hate. There must be a new group hatching on this planet: Mothers Against Sloane Masterson.
“Whatever. My clothes?” I demand.
She doesn’t answer. I peek over the stall door again. The restroom is empty. My body trembles. Everyone is eating lunch and I don’t have a cell phone on this planet. Shivering, I wait for what seems like an hour, hoping someone will walk by the bathrooms.
If someone writes a trashy tell-all book about me and it’s made into a Lifetime movie, then the last thing I want is for it to include this embarrassing rom-com moment. I try to teleport home, but I have a hard time concentrating and I don’t even get a shimmery tingle.
Dammit! I try again, squeezing my eyes shut until it feels like a vein will pop in my forehead. Nada. Guess I need more training to manage my emotions and my new abilities. Oh, well, I’d die of embarrassment and be scarred for life if I teleported into the house in front of my brother or father, anyway. Perhaps my powers were only short-term because I’m not a full-blooded Meleah and now they’ve fizzled out.
Geez, talk about bad timing. Guess I’ll just have to wait for someone to use the restroom. But patience is not a virtue I possess.
“Hey!” I yell. “Hello! Can anyone hear me?”
Silence. Only the ocean waves splashing onto the shore.
“Anyone! I need help!” I shout louder.
A band with sonorous drums plays a lively song somewhere along the beach. Just awesome. No one will hear me now.
Goosebumps prickle my cold skin and I hug myself for warmth. Despite all the birds chirping, the beautiful day at the beach, and Hayden taking his shirt off, there are things that are still the worst. Literally. Like people who wear bright-happy colors. And misuse the word literally. The worst. Like Hayden’s snotty parents, Neela and her awful mother, and being the butt of this lame-o clothes stealing prank.
An ocean breeze rattles the building, and I grind my teeth. My hair drips down my body so I twist the soaking, purple strands into a tight spiral to wring them out.
With my rotten luck, I’m going to be stuck naked in this restroom until nightfall. I crack open the door and stick my head out, but it is still empty. I slink to the sinks, hoping for a paper towel dispenser so I can cover myself with the sheets. No such luck. The Zetas are environmentally savvy and only have hand-driers.
This vacation is starting to royally suck.
I go back inside the stall and shut the door. I kick at the tiled floor. Shifting my weight, I groan. If this were a comedy, then this moment would be the classic ‘Gone Swimming, Clothes Stolen’ trope. Yup, sometimes my life is like one big cliché.
Loud voices echo near the restroom. Yay, I’m rescued!
“I can’t believe you’d do something so immature!” Hayden bellows.
“It was just a prank,” Neela replies.
“Not cool,” Hayden says, his voice just outside the building.
“Whatever,” Neela says. “I’m outta here, but you’ll be sorry!”
&
nbsp; “Sloane?” Hayden calls, opening the restroom door. “You still stuck in there?”
“Uh, yeah. And I seem to be having a slight case of nudity.”
“You otherwise all right?”
“I’m fine. Just cold and…very unclothed.”
“Sooo, your naked?” he asks in a teasing voice.
“Duh,” I snap.
Hayden chuckles. “Well, that’s one-way to make new friends.”
“You’re not funny.”
The door opens wider, footsteps thud on the floor, and a beach towel appears over the door.
I snatch it, wrapping the towel around my quivering limbs. “Thanks.”
“Here’s your bag, too,” Hayden says. “I’ll leave them outside the door.”
Once he retreats, I open the stall door and seize the bag sitting on the floor. After drying off, I slip on a black mini-dress, underwear, and sandals. I exit the stall, and Hayden enters alone, standing by the sinks.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” he says.
“Neela isn’t going to let you go.”
He moves closer and kisses my forehead. “She doesn’t have a choice.”
I press my cheek against his shoulder, the warmth of his body chasing away the last of the shivers. “You came to my rescue.”
“Always.” He hugs me tighter. “When you didn’t show up at the restaurant, I got worried. And the instant Neela walked in with a weird grin, I knew something was wrong.”
“She’s a vacation sabotager.”
Hayden loosens his grip. “She’s not a bad person. Neela just had expectations and now she’s been publically dumped.”
“Yeah, she’s taking it like a champ,” I say sarcastically. “Thanks for the rescue, but now I’m going home.”
“Wait. Don’t go away mad. It was only a dumb prank. Neela’s being a spoiled brat—”
“Spoiled? This goes far beyond that!” My voice rises in volume, bouncing across the chrome tiled floor. “She’s got psycho tendencies like your other ex-Tama.”
He rubs the back of his neck with one hand. “My old girlfriends do tend to hold a grudge.”
“It’s a lot more than that and I’m always their main target.”