Forgive My Fins
Page 47To seal the blue color, I hold the sand dollar between my palms and flash-freeze it.
“What do you think?” I ask, holding it up for Peri to inspect. I’m actually pretty proud of my creation.
“I think,” she says, eyeing the necklace and then me, “that I don’t understand why you hate him so much.”
I scowl. Where did that come from? I tie the necklace around my neck so I don’t lose it.
“I don’t hate him,” I admit. “Not really. Sometimes I think I do, but he’s not really an awful guy all the time.”
“So what then?” Peri swims up and studies my face. “Why throw away a perfectly good bond?”
A perfectly good bond? I’m not sure what’s going on here. I mean, Peri is on my side. Isn’t she? She knows how I feel about Brody. Why is she encouraging me to keep Quince—as if he’s mine to keep anyway?
“You know why,” I say, my water-dulled frustration coming out as mild annoyance.
“Brody,” she says, sounding disappointed.
“Yes,” I reply. “Brody. The guy I’ve been in love with for three years. The guy I’m supposed to be bonded with.”
“Quince is…” I whip around in a circle, trying to gather my thoughts. “He’s everything I don’t want. He’s rude and pushy and loves tweaking me at every opportunity. He is a land lover with two capital Ls.” I stop spinning and try to face Peri, but the world around me keeps whirling for several seconds. “Did you know he couldn’t even swim before last weekend?”
“So?” Peri argues. “Now he can.”
“You don’t get it,” I complain. “I belong in the water. Brody belongs here too.” I take a breath, picturing Brody swimming the butterfly. And then Quince on his disaster of a motorcycle. “Quince belongs on land.”
Peri studies my face, my eyes, like she’s trying to read my deepest thoughts. If anyone can, it’s her. But I don’t get to find out what she sees. In the end, she gives me a gentle smile. “I’m sure everything will work out how it’s supposed to.”
Yeah, with me and Brody together under the sea, while Quince stays safe and permanently dry, where he belongs.
“I hope so,” I say as we begin our ascent. “I desperately hope so.”
As we break the surface, I don’t see Quince and Dosinia anywhere. Which is troubling, because Calliope said we couldn’t leave the bounds of the island. If Dosinia tricked Quince into breaking the rules, I’ll strangle her. The last thing I need is this Challenge voided so we have to start over or something.
Then I hear giggling from beyond the shrubby bushes on the north side of the island.
“You are so good with your hands,” Doe coos in her boy-hunting sultry voice. “I can’t think of a merman in Thalassinia with that kind of skill.”
With a growl, I launch myself up onto the sand, transfiguring into my finkini on the fly. She doesn’t even like humans. Does she have to flirt with every boy with a pulse? I mean, is she too oblivious to see that this is kind of a delicate situation? Can’t she put the flirt on pause just this once?
No, I don’t suppose she can.
“Dosinia!” I snap as I stomp through the grass in the direction of her voice. “What are you—”
But when I reach the clearing of the sandy beach, I am stunned speechless by what I see. Quince and Dosinia are sitting side by side, shoulder to shoulder, facing the beach. At my shout, they both turn to face me. Dosinia, now facing his back, wraps her arms around his waist and hugs herself along his spine.
He doesn’t even react.
“Took you long enough,” she says with a sneer. “Quincy’s been done for ages. I’ve been…entertaining him.”
Quincy? My eyebrows shoot up…and then dive into a scowl. Before I know what I’m doing, I stalk up to them, grab Doe by the arm, and yank her to her feet.
“Get out of here!” I give her a push toward the water. “You’re not part of this test. No one’s making you stay inside island lines. Go home.”
Quince, who has scrambled to his feet by the time I’m done, catches Doe before she stumbles to the ground.
I feel tears filling my eyes, and I don’t even know why. The bond is messing with my emotions so much, I can’t think straight.
Dosinia, who has never known when to back down, sneers and says, “If you want him to yourself, then why don’t you stay bonded?”
“What?” I glare at her. “This isn’t about him,” I insist. “It’s about you. About how you always take such joy in making my life miserable.”
I turn, prepared to stomp away, but then turn back. “You know what? The two of you have that in common.”
Then I run through the grass to the other side of the island. It’s not nearly far enough away. As soon as I clear the grass, I drop to the sand. Wrapping my arms around my knees, I let my head slump and I try to use deep breathing to keep my tears away.
What is the matter with me? I never used to be this emotional. I never used to lose my temper or yell at anyone—well, no one but Quince. Now I feel like I’m snapping at everyone.