Fins Are Forever
Page 16
And I know the perfect tale to not tel .
I bolt up straighter.
“I do.” I throw her a warning look. “I have a whole treasure chest of stories.”
Her eyes flash. I know she knows exactly what I’m talking about: the time our cousins Kitt and Nevis made a fake treasure map and she spent two days scouring the Thalassinian garbage fields for a buried chest of rare pink diamonds. She was only about eight, but she is stil mortified by her gul ibility.
As if conceding that if we’re going to play hardbal , I might not win, but I won’t go down without a fight, she gives me a slight nod.
Score one for Lily.
The table fal s into a vaguely tense silence. I think we al realize that lunch is almost over and we’ve barely touched our food. I take this moment of silence to see what Doe has on her tray. She (wisely) passed on the meat du jour, a grayish hamburger with wilted lettuce, instead opting for strawberry Jel -O, vanil a pudding, and a banana. Al foods similar to ones we have in Thalassinia.
I think part of her human education needs to be about trying new foods. Sushi may top my list of al -time favorites, but I’ve developed a taste for corn dogs, tater tots, and apple pie. And you haven’t lived until you’ve tried tiramisu.
Maybe educating Doe in human ways won’t be al that bad.
After al , it is my duty. And if I get to consume some of my favorite foods in the process, then al the better. Tomorrow I’l have to get some extras on my plate to make her try. I’m pretty sure it’s taco day.
“Gotta run,” Brody says, pushing to his feet and picking up his tray. “We’re doing oral reports in history today and I need to review my notes.” He nods down at Doe’s picked-over tray. “Have you finished?”
She makes a kind of disgusted face and pushes her tray away.
“I’l take this up for you.” Brody stacks their trays and winks at Doe. “See you later.”
Her gaze doesn’t leave him until he drops off the trays and disappears out the cafeteria doors. Her interest in Brody is a little too interested for my peace of mind.
Before the human food lessons, I have to make one thing very clear. I wil not let my final act as royal princess end in a bonding disaster that can only bring trouble to my kingdom.
As soon as Brody’s out of sight, I say, “No.” Doe looks innocent. “No what?”
“No Brody,” I explain. “Absolutely, unequivocal y no.” She shrugs. “Whatever.”
I’m not sure if it’s an I-don’t-real y-care-about-him-so-no-big-deal shrug, or an I-like-him-and-I-don’t-real y-care-what-you-think one. Or maybe it’s a you’re-not-the-boss-of-me shrug.
“Dosinia,” I say, not wil ing to let this go, “this is serious.
You can’t mess around with Brody. I don’t know if I told you, but he accidental y found out the truth about me a couple weeks ago.”
“So?” she asks in a bored tone.
“So he didn’t take it very wel . He acted like a jerk and I had to—”
“Ancient history.” She reaches down and grabs a lip gloss from her briefcase, swiping it perfectly across her lips without a mirror.
Grrr. I can envy her makeup skil s later; right now I’m trying to make a point. “You can’t mess with any human, Doe.
The risk is too high. Think of what’s best for the kingdom.”
“Like you do?” she snarls, her voice ful of venom. “When have you ever put Thalassinia first?” My head jerks back at her verbal attack. “What do you mean?” I ask. “I take my responsibilities very seriously.” She snorts. “Right.”
“Doe, I—” I’m not sure what to say. Mostly because her accusation hits home. Because these are doubts I already have, doubts I’ve been wrestling with ever since I made the decision to return to Seaview.
Am I abandoning my kingdom by staying on land, by staying with Quince? Am I letting my ancestors and my subjects down if I give up my title? Is it enough to try to protect them from above, rather than lead them from below?
I can’t let these doubts consume me. I’ve made my choice, and Daddy supports me ful y. There isn’t another way to make things work that doesn’t leave me miserable for life. Besides, I can help more on the environmental front from up here.
“The kingdom wil find another heir.” I shake my head, stil trying to figure out where her attack came from. Whispering so no one around us can hear, I say, “Thalassinia wil be better off without me.”
Beneath the table, Quince pats my hand, reassuring me that he’s here if I need him. Shannen would come to my aid, too, but this is a moment between me and Doe, between merfolk.
Unimpressed by my assurance, she stands up and says,
“I’ve got to find my art class.”
My shoulders slump. Of course she has art. My luck is pretty stel ar when it comes to things like this. Of al the classes I could share with my squid-brained cousin who hates me and thinks I’m betraying our kingdom, it would have to be my favorite class. It wouldn’t be my life otherwise.
Shannen and I exchange a look. Mine, I’m sure, is defeated. Hers is apologetic. She knows how much I love art, so she knows I’m bummed. As Doe col ects her briefcase and stands, Shannen jerks her head at my cousin.
I know.
I take a deep breath.
“Wait,” I say with no enthusiasm.
Doe doesn’t respond, but she doesn’t walk away. I hear her booted foot tapping impatiently on the floor. When I don’t say more, she final y demands, “What?” Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, I say, “We have art, too.” When Shannen nudges me in the ribs, I add,
I bolt up straighter.
“I do.” I throw her a warning look. “I have a whole treasure chest of stories.”
Her eyes flash. I know she knows exactly what I’m talking about: the time our cousins Kitt and Nevis made a fake treasure map and she spent two days scouring the Thalassinian garbage fields for a buried chest of rare pink diamonds. She was only about eight, but she is stil mortified by her gul ibility.
As if conceding that if we’re going to play hardbal , I might not win, but I won’t go down without a fight, she gives me a slight nod.
Score one for Lily.
The table fal s into a vaguely tense silence. I think we al realize that lunch is almost over and we’ve barely touched our food. I take this moment of silence to see what Doe has on her tray. She (wisely) passed on the meat du jour, a grayish hamburger with wilted lettuce, instead opting for strawberry Jel -O, vanil a pudding, and a banana. Al foods similar to ones we have in Thalassinia.
I think part of her human education needs to be about trying new foods. Sushi may top my list of al -time favorites, but I’ve developed a taste for corn dogs, tater tots, and apple pie. And you haven’t lived until you’ve tried tiramisu.
Maybe educating Doe in human ways won’t be al that bad.
After al , it is my duty. And if I get to consume some of my favorite foods in the process, then al the better. Tomorrow I’l have to get some extras on my plate to make her try. I’m pretty sure it’s taco day.
“Gotta run,” Brody says, pushing to his feet and picking up his tray. “We’re doing oral reports in history today and I need to review my notes.” He nods down at Doe’s picked-over tray. “Have you finished?”
She makes a kind of disgusted face and pushes her tray away.
“I’l take this up for you.” Brody stacks their trays and winks at Doe. “See you later.”
Her gaze doesn’t leave him until he drops off the trays and disappears out the cafeteria doors. Her interest in Brody is a little too interested for my peace of mind.
Before the human food lessons, I have to make one thing very clear. I wil not let my final act as royal princess end in a bonding disaster that can only bring trouble to my kingdom.
As soon as Brody’s out of sight, I say, “No.” Doe looks innocent. “No what?”
“No Brody,” I explain. “Absolutely, unequivocal y no.” She shrugs. “Whatever.”
I’m not sure if it’s an I-don’t-real y-care-about-him-so-no-big-deal shrug, or an I-like-him-and-I-don’t-real y-care-what-you-think one. Or maybe it’s a you’re-not-the-boss-of-me shrug.
“Dosinia,” I say, not wil ing to let this go, “this is serious.
You can’t mess around with Brody. I don’t know if I told you, but he accidental y found out the truth about me a couple weeks ago.”
“So?” she asks in a bored tone.
“So he didn’t take it very wel . He acted like a jerk and I had to—”
“Ancient history.” She reaches down and grabs a lip gloss from her briefcase, swiping it perfectly across her lips without a mirror.
Grrr. I can envy her makeup skil s later; right now I’m trying to make a point. “You can’t mess with any human, Doe.
The risk is too high. Think of what’s best for the kingdom.”
“Like you do?” she snarls, her voice ful of venom. “When have you ever put Thalassinia first?” My head jerks back at her verbal attack. “What do you mean?” I ask. “I take my responsibilities very seriously.” She snorts. “Right.”
“Doe, I—” I’m not sure what to say. Mostly because her accusation hits home. Because these are doubts I already have, doubts I’ve been wrestling with ever since I made the decision to return to Seaview.
Am I abandoning my kingdom by staying on land, by staying with Quince? Am I letting my ancestors and my subjects down if I give up my title? Is it enough to try to protect them from above, rather than lead them from below?
I can’t let these doubts consume me. I’ve made my choice, and Daddy supports me ful y. There isn’t another way to make things work that doesn’t leave me miserable for life. Besides, I can help more on the environmental front from up here.
“The kingdom wil find another heir.” I shake my head, stil trying to figure out where her attack came from. Whispering so no one around us can hear, I say, “Thalassinia wil be better off without me.”
Beneath the table, Quince pats my hand, reassuring me that he’s here if I need him. Shannen would come to my aid, too, but this is a moment between me and Doe, between merfolk.
Unimpressed by my assurance, she stands up and says,
“I’ve got to find my art class.”
My shoulders slump. Of course she has art. My luck is pretty stel ar when it comes to things like this. Of al the classes I could share with my squid-brained cousin who hates me and thinks I’m betraying our kingdom, it would have to be my favorite class. It wouldn’t be my life otherwise.
Shannen and I exchange a look. Mine, I’m sure, is defeated. Hers is apologetic. She knows how much I love art, so she knows I’m bummed. As Doe col ects her briefcase and stands, Shannen jerks her head at my cousin.
I know.
I take a deep breath.
“Wait,” I say with no enthusiasm.
Doe doesn’t respond, but she doesn’t walk away. I hear her booted foot tapping impatiently on the floor. When I don’t say more, she final y demands, “What?” Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, I say, “We have art, too.” When Shannen nudges me in the ribs, I add,
