Because I trust you.
I don’t have to read his mind to know that he gets my subtext.
“You need to be gone first,” I say. Things will be hard enough to explain without Quince’s bloody knuckles raising even more questions. “I’ll be fine.”
Quince nods, walking around Brody and past Shannen’s still-running car, to where his motorcycle is parked next to the natatorium wall. Seconds later, his bike roars to life with a rumble that is becoming one of my favorite sounds.
“Brody,” I begin once the roar fades into the distance. “We need to talk—”
“I think he sprained my jaw,” Brody says, gingerly moving his lower jaw from side to side. “I’m gonna require serious makeup for news team next week.”
“We need to talk.” I bend down in front of him, trying not to grind my teeth in frustration at his superficial focus. Guess that’s another thing Quince was right about. I’ll add it to the list. “First, let’s get you on your feet.”
He grumbles but holds out his arm, inviting me to help him up.
Once he’s standing—and repeatedly pressing against the corner of his mouth, as if fascinated by the sensation of a bloody lip—I place my hands on his shoulders.
“Brody,” I say confidently, “look at me.”
I’ve never performed a mindwashing before—I’ve never had to. But every mer in the sea is required to memorize the ritual, just in case something like this happens. The first step is establishing eye contact, creating and then maintaining the visual connection.
When Brody’s golden-brown eyes meet mine, caught by the hypnotic glitter of my magical focus, I take a deep breath and recite the words in my mind.
What was seen is now forgotten,
What was learned is now unknown.
Memories made are all but rotten,
New replacements shall be shown.
As soon as I finish the last thought, Brody blinks rapidly and shakes his head. Confusion fills his features, making him look completely lost.
I almost feel bad. Brody, the boy who always seems at home in every situation, looks totally disoriented…because of me. Well, it’s not like I had a choice. I couldn’t exactly leave him knowing the secret. I have no idea what he would do with that information. For all I know, my kingdom and I would become his next news-team exposé.
“Lily?”
Taking a deep breath, I plunge into a story to explain the situation.
“Are you okay, Brody?” I ask, feigning serious concern. “You took a hard tumble down those steps.”
He glances back over my shoulder, looking at the steps in question and trying to put the pieces together in his mind. Trying to fill the gaps I made in his memories.
“I fell?”
“Yeah,” Shannen says, climbing out of her car and coming to my aid—love her! “You came out here to ask Lily something about your next race and just—”
“—took a header into the parking lot,” I finish.
While Brody shakes his head, Shannen and I share a look. She looks totally proud of herself…and of me. I’m pretty proud of me too.
“Let me help you inside,” I offer, slipping to his side and wrapping an arm around his waist for support. “Coach will know what to do.”
“Oh. Okay,” Brody mutters. “Yeah. Coach can help.”
As I escort Brody to the steps, I look over my shoulder and tell Shannen, “I’ll be right back.”
I can already feel the migraine starting right above my left eye. If I try to stick it out for the rest of the meet, I’ll be incapacitated for a week. No, I’ll get Brody into Coach’s hands, then it’s home for a double dose of aspirin and a long nap in a dark room.
Quince will have to wait until tomorrow.
The migraine is still raging the next morning, so I skip school. By the afternoon, though, it’s dissipated to a dull ache, and knowing tonight’s the night we return to Thalassinia, I’m sitting on my front step waiting for Quince when I hear his motorcycle rumble in the distance.
I shake off the melancholy thoughts I’ve been wrestling with all day and paste on a happy smile. As he pulls his bike into the driveway between our houses, I think I’ve actually managed to conjure some happiness.
Clearly, Quince is not fooled.
“You weren’t in school,” he says as he climbs the steps to sit next to me. “You okay?”
“Sure,” I say, pretending it’s true.
He turns his bright eyes on me. “Seriously, Lily. Are you all right?”
His sincerity shatters my façade. I’m not all right, I want to scream. I’m as far from all right as I can get because I’m sad and confused and I don’t know what to do.
But that’s the emotion talking—or thinking. The reality is a little more complicated.
“I’m disappointed in myself,” I say finally. “All these years wasted on loving Brody…and it was all a fantasy. Just like you said.”
“Yeah, well, you had to realize that for yourself.” Quince puts an arm around my shoulders and hugs me to his side. And even though he happens to be the most confusing thing in my life at the moment, I let him. At least he’s not saying “I told you so.”
I say it instead. “You told me so,” I admit. “You told me my image of Brody wasn’t real, and you were right. I was just too blind to see it.”
He laughs a little. “You were too blind to see a lot of things, princess.”