Emerge (23 page)

“Leo’s one lucky Mer,” Caspian says.

“Don’t I know it,” Leomaris agrees, giving Emeraldine’s hand an affectionate squeeze.

My parents insisted it had been too long since my sister’s boyfriend had come over for dinner. So now, Leo sits across from me, his Burberry blazer the same latte brown as his hair. The twins took Amy on her first trip to the mall, so it’s just my parents, Em and Leo, and me and Caspian at the dining room table. Leo looks at Em like he’s just as crazy about her as ever. It gives me hope that they can work it out.

Emeraldine thanks Caspian for the compliment and squeezes Leo’s hand right back.

“It’s impressive you’re already so good in the
qokkiis
, Em,” Caspian says, using the Mermese word for kitchen. “Neither one of my parents learned until after they got married.”

At the mention of marriage, both Em and Leo’s expressions turn dark, and they cast their eyes down at their plates. I guess they still haven’t figured everything out.

Caspian looks at me apologetically and whispers, “I thought everything was back to normal.”

“I can’t believe it’s not,” I whisper back.

“I’m so glad you could join us,” my mother says to Caspian, rescuing the conversation.

“Me, too. Actually,” Caspian’s eyes meet mine for an instant before shifting back, “there’s something I wanted to speak to you both about. I know Lia’s been interning at the Foundation, and I was wondering if you would help me get an internship of my own.”

A warm smile spreads across my dad’s face, and my mom’s eyes soften. “Of course, Caspian,” my dad says.

“It would be our pleasure,” my mom adds. “The linguistics department, right? I’ll just make a call on Monday and set up a meeting for you. With your language skills, it shouldn’t be—”

“Well, no.” Caspian clears his throat. “Thank you, but no. I was thinking I’d like to help with some field work in … ingredients collection.”

Both my parents lose their smiles. Leo and Em share an apprehensive look. Ingredients collection is a lowly job. The only one the Community members would agree to give Mr. Havelock because of his family’s politics. I heard my parents talking about how it was a shame no one trusted him to be a medic, like he was Below.

If ingredients collection didn’t require potions expertise, it would be considered menial labor. But that isn’t my parents’ main objection to Caspian’s newfound interest.

“It’s too dangerous,” my father says. “Covert dives into rebel-occupied zones of the ocean … ” He shakes his head. “It’s one of the reasons we don’t use many potions on land.”

“We could never let a minor go out into the open ocean,” my mother says. “Not only would your parents never forgive us, but it’s against our laws for you to cross the Border. You know that.”

We do know that. Both Caspian and I are counting on this rule to keep him out of as much danger as possible—and get him as much alone time in Melusine’s house as we can. Still, Caspian pretends to be disappointed. “Couldn’t I still help with researching ingredients or something? I got to know Melusine at your party.” That’s stretching the truth if I’ve ever heard it. “And I know Melusine and Lia are good friends.” Never mind, that is. “I was hoping that Mr. Havelock would agree to mentor me.”

“But, Caspian,” I say, just like we practiced, “you’ve always wanted to go into linguistics. You’re so good with languages—your Mermese is perfect. And you’re such a good speaker.” He can be shy, but he’s tactful, thoughtful, diplomatic. “I thought you dreamt of negotiating peace treaties Below one day.”

“Yes, Caspian,” my mother agrees. “You’d be such an asset.”

“That is what I always thought I’d do, but recently, I’ve become much more interested in potions ingredients,” he says, justifying his request so my parents won’t be suspicious. “I want to learn more about where they grow, how to harvest them. You know, my grandmother did a lot of growing when she lived Below, and she knows so much about so many potions and their components. She won’t live forever, like she should, and—” His voice catches, as if he can’t contain his sadness. I’m impressed by how convincing it sounds. “I don’t want all the expertise in our family to die with her.”

The corners of my father’s mouth turn down in sympathy, and my mother reaches across the table to pat Caspian’s hand. Who would have thought honest, noble Caspian would be so good at manipulating people? I have to stifle the urge to applaud. This is going to work, it’s really going to work.

“Caspian, that’s an admirable goal.” Uh-oh. Too much resolve colors my mother’s voice. “But, your grandmother would be just as proud of you if you followed your own current. Why don’t you let me organize an internship for you in the linguistics department at the Foundation? I can arrange for you to work under the tutelage of Ervin Zung.”

I have to stop myself from gaping. That’s such a good opportunity; my mom’s practically bribing Caspian to forget about ingredients collection. If she weren’t about to ruin everything, I’d be touched that she cares about him so much. I study Caspian’s face. What if he decides to take it? An internship that high up in linguistics would be Caspian’s dream job. I bet that’s a lot more promising than putting himself at risk to help me.

It’s selfish of me to want Caspian to refuse the opportunity. Maybe I’m a bad friend. In the long pause that follows, an almost imperceptible tick pulses in Caspian’s jaw. If he takes the linguistics job, how will I ever figure out what Melusine is up to? She’d be too wary of one of my sisters, and there’s no one else who’d do it for me. No one else I’d trust enough to ask.

“I don’t know what to say,” he murmurs. “
Tallimymee
.” That’s the most respectful phrase for thank you in Mermese.

No, no. Please don’t take it. Please don’t take it.

“That’s a more generous offer than I ever expected,” he continues. My parents look hopeful. I try not to look panicked. “But I’m afraid I’m set on potions collection.”

I let out a breath and try to look concerned instead of relieved. Inside, I’m rejoicing.

Once several more attempts at convincing him fail, my parents realize they won’t change Caspian’s mind. After that, it doesn’t take them long to agree to arrange an internship with Mr. Havelock. They stipulate that Caspian won’t be going into the water or even working with real ingredients. He’ll be limited to research. That’s exactly what we were hoping for.

“It’s never going to work.”

“Why not?” I ask, concern evident in my voice.

“Because your hand is too high.” Clay wraps his fingers around my wrist and moves my hand down so it rests on his hip bone. “That’s better,” he says. It’s been over an hour since I last sang to him, so the playfulness is back in his tone.

Shifting my weight, I try the throw again and push Clay off me like I’m supposed to.

“Nice improvement,” Coach Crane says, marking something in her grade book. Was she talking to me? “Now try hold number four,” she instructs as she heads to where Kelsey struggles to throw Matt off her.

Clay moves into position and wraps his arms around me from behind. My back presses against his chest. “So this is what it takes to get you close to me. Good to know,” he whispers in my ear, his voice low, husky.

I bite my lip. I tell myself it’s just the spell making him say it, but it feels so good to have his body pressed against mine, his arms holding me. To know, at least on some level, he wants me close to him.

“What are you doing to that boy, Lia?”

“What?” I’m so startled, I nearly bang my head on the door of my gym locker.

“Clay is totally under your spell,” Jaclyn says from over by her own locker.

“No, he’s not!” I say instinctively. Then I tell myself to breathe. It’s a figure of speech. They couldn’t know.

“Oh, he so is,” Genevieve insists, snapping her gum. Well, she’s changed her tune since our last conversation.

“We’ve seen the way he looks at you,” Jaclyn says.

“So, you and Clay … are you officially official now or what?” Genevieve asks.

“You bet they are,” Kelsey says as she emerges from one of the showers wrapped in a polka dot towel. “He’s so into her.”

“Already?” Jaclyn jokes. She and Genevieve erupt into giggles.

“I’m glad he’s with you now,” Genevieve says as her laughter subsides. “That new girl Mel’s a total biatch. So undeserving of his hotness.”

She slips her P.E. t-shirt over her head and reaches into her locker for a Ralph Lauren polo. Her bra is the prettiest one I’ve ever seen. Cream silk with a lace overlay and a delicate bow right between the pillows of her breasts. She notices me noticing. “You like?” she asks, adjusting its cups slightly. “Ryan came in the dressing room with me while I was trying it on.” Ryan has been Genevieve’s boyfriend for the last few months. They’re kind of the school’s power couple. Jaclyn and her boyfriend Nick, who’s a senior and vice president of the student body, are a close second.

“We had to sneak him past the salesgirl,” Genevieve continues. “Of course, he paid for this one,” she indicates the bra, “aaand a bunch of other goodies.”

“He’s the one who’ll be enjoying them. Am I right?” Jaclyn says. We all laugh. It feels good to let myself laugh with them.

Then Jaclyn says, “My boyfriend isn’t big on bras. He likes me best in nothing but bikini cut panties.” I blush. Isn’t this kind of TMI?

“My boyfriend likes thongs. He says anything bigger’s a grandma panty.” Genevieve turns to me. “What about you, Lia? What does your boyfriend like?”

“My boyfriend?” The word still feels strange in my mouth. Boyfriend. Strange and wonderful. “My boyfriend likes me in boyshorts. Low-rise boyshorts.” I have no idea if that’s true, but it’s so fun to say. Besides, Clay seems like a boyshorts kind of guy.

“When am
I
gonna have a boyfriend?” Kelsey asks, sinking onto the bench that runs between the gym lockers.

“When you man-up and kiss Matt,” I say. I’ve never given her dating advice before.

“You really think I should?” She’s looking at me like I’m an authority on the topic. I nod.

Genevieve shuts her locker. “Ryan says even when Clay’s not talking about you, it’s
très
obvious he’s thinking about you. Whatever you’re doing to the guy, it’s working. See you around, Lia. Text me if you wanna hang.”

I don’t even have her number. But all I say is, “O-okay.”

“Perf!” Jaclyn says. It’s like I’ve been accepted into the girlfriends club. They both give me girly single-finger waves as they exit the locker room. I wave my finger right back.

Later, I replay the conversation as I float on an inflatable lounger in our pool. The tips of my fins dip over the edge and into the water, my tail soaking up the last rays of sun.

When Genevieve and Jaclyn see the way Clay looks at me, they assume his feelings for me are real. What would it be like if they were? What would it be like if he really were my boyfriend? I allow myself to relish the sweet fantasy of it as I skim my fingertips across the glimmering water.
Where is he right now?
I wonder.
What’s he doing right this minute?

Suddenly, I feel … a tug. The sensation isn’t in my stomach exactly, but deeper—in my center. It’s a light tug, but it’s startling in its unexpectedness.

When I was just a guppy and I’d go out into the ocean with my sisters, Em was entrusted with my safety. Still just a child herself, she’d been terrified I’d swim off on my own. More than once, I tried to follow the call of the ocean straight into the intrepid waters past the Border. Always the problem-solver, Em took a seaweed rope and tied one end around her waist and the other around mine. No matter where she’d swim or where I’d swim, we were connected and were always tugged back toward each other.

Now, the tug at my center feels like the tug of that long-ago seaweed rope. But I know that waiting on the other side for me isn’t Em. I know, without knowing how I know, that if I tugged back on that rope, I could pull Clay to me. Compel him to stop whatever he’s doing and come to me.

I close my eyes and focus on the sensation. The roar of waves assaults my ears.

I open my eyes and look at the ocean stretched out below the hillside, but the water is as calm as it was before, rippling softly in the twilight breeze. The roaring in my ears has stopped just as quickly as it started. Suspicion seeping into my bones, I close my eyes again and focus on the tug. The roaring assaults me full force. There’s a voice behind it—a mesmerizing, compelling call. My eyes fly open again.