Forgive My Fins
Page 46
“I know I’m not,” I reply. “Not like Courtney or Dosinia. Even Peri has an elegant kind of beauty. I’m just…me.”
Me, with the freckles and skinny legs and too-big lips and eyes. Who could find that attractive? I’m like a speckled ostrich.
“You shouldn’t make assumptions about how others view you, Lily.” He sounds so sincere, I can’t help but look up as he adds, “Some people find beauty in chaos.”
Without waiting for a response, he pushes to his feet and walks away. As I stare at his retreating back, I ask, “Hey, was that from a poem or something?”
Just before he jumps into the pool, he says, “Or something.”
I sit on the beach—staring after him and kind of wondering what the shellfish is going on—until the evening chill hits me. With the sun sinking below the horizon, the surface temperature drops a dozen degrees. Time to turn in for the night—at least I can warm the water in the pool to a decent temp. Tomorrow will bring the tests. As soon as Daddy and Calliope realize Quince and I are the worst match in merworld history, we’ll be separated and back home before you can say “Some people find beauty in chaos.”
Now, why did that phrase stick with me?
“Morning, sleepyheads.”
Peri’s voice penetrates my deep fog of sleep. What is Peri doing in my bedroom? She’s never visited Aunt Rachel’s house.
“Aren’t you two just as cozy as a pair of pearls in a puka shell?”
I bolt upright at the sound of Dosinia’s sneering comment. I know Doe is not in my room—she hates the human world and wouldn’t set foot on the mainland if you paid her.
The first thing I remember is I’m not in my room. I’m in the deep blue hole on Calliope’s Challenge island. And the second thing is that I fell asleep next to Quince so my temperature regulation would keep him warm too.
Only sometime in the night we moved from sleeping next to each other to sleeping cuddled together.
Roused from his sleep by my movements, he stretches his arms wide and yawns so loud, he practically roars. “Morning, princess.”
Peri clears her throat with a pointed a-hem.
Quince’s eyes finally spread open. His broad smile shows no shame—not that we have anything to be ashamed about. “Morning, ladies. What brings you to our fair island?”
“The Challenge,” Peri replies with a smile. “I’m administering one of your tests.”
With a strong kick, I jet away from his side. Giving Dosinia a skeptical look, I ask, “And why are you here?”
She shrugs and purses her glossy lips. “Uncle Whelk asked me to help.”
Thanks, Daddy.
Certain I look like a fright, I try to tame my curls by running fingers through my hair. It’s so unfair that Quince can wake up looking exactly like he did when he went to sleep, only with sleepy eyes and pink cheeks.
“So what’s the test?” I ask Peri, trying to ignore how Dosinia is eyeballing Quince’s bare chest. Maybe I should have made him keep the T-shirt on this time.
“It’s going to be super-cool,” Peri exclaims. “You’re each going to make a gift for the other.”
“A gift?” I ask.
“Yes.” She claps her hands. “I’ll stay in the pool and help you create your gift. Dosinia will go with Quince above the surface to make his.”
“Are there any requirements?” Quince asks, proving that he’s actually awake and paying attention.
“Nope.” Peri shakes her head. “Just that it has to be hand-made. And with Lily in mind.”
This sounds dumb. How does my making a gift for Quince prove anything about our unsuitability?
He doesn’t seem quite as skeptical. “Let’s get to it.”
With a strong push off the ledge that has been our bed, he shoots toward the surface. Dosinia looks right at me as she says, “This should be fun.” Then she smirks and follows Quince.
“Could she be any more obnoxious?” I ask once she breaks the surface.
“Probably,” Peri says absently. “So what do you want to make?”
I look around the hole. All I see is a reef wall dotted with brightly colored anemones and sea fans and other marine life. If this gift is supposed to be for Quince, I can’t use anything perishable like anemones or kelp. On land, those would just rot in a day or two and wind up making his room stink worse than it probably already does.
“I have no idea, Per,” I complain. “The hole doesn’t have much to offer.”
“Why don’t we explore some?” she suggests. “I’ll go up, you go down.”
I shrug in agreement. As she kicks up to the top of the hole, I swim down. This is stupid. I’m never going to find something that Quince will—
Before I even finish my mental whine, I see it. A perfect blue sand dollar, about an inch and a half across. Quince was fascinated by the sculpture in the starfish room, so maybe he’ll like this.
I let Peri know I’ve found something. Her shadow moves over me as she swims down to inspect my find.
Maybe I’m wrong.
“He’s going to hate it,” I grumble. “I don’t know anything about what he’d want. See, we’re totally unsuitable.”
“You never know,” Peri says, admiring the sand dollar. “Maybe he’ll love it.”
I shrug off her suggestion. It doesn’t matter. I’m not about to spend all day making a stupid gift for a stupid test because my dad won’t grant the stupid separation. Quickly locating some chorda, I braid together a makeshift string that I know will dry into a ropelike finish when it hits the air. In a few minutes, I’ve finished the cord and strung the sand dollar at the center.
Me, with the freckles and skinny legs and too-big lips and eyes. Who could find that attractive? I’m like a speckled ostrich.
“You shouldn’t make assumptions about how others view you, Lily.” He sounds so sincere, I can’t help but look up as he adds, “Some people find beauty in chaos.”
Without waiting for a response, he pushes to his feet and walks away. As I stare at his retreating back, I ask, “Hey, was that from a poem or something?”
Just before he jumps into the pool, he says, “Or something.”
I sit on the beach—staring after him and kind of wondering what the shellfish is going on—until the evening chill hits me. With the sun sinking below the horizon, the surface temperature drops a dozen degrees. Time to turn in for the night—at least I can warm the water in the pool to a decent temp. Tomorrow will bring the tests. As soon as Daddy and Calliope realize Quince and I are the worst match in merworld history, we’ll be separated and back home before you can say “Some people find beauty in chaos.”
Now, why did that phrase stick with me?
“Morning, sleepyheads.”
Peri’s voice penetrates my deep fog of sleep. What is Peri doing in my bedroom? She’s never visited Aunt Rachel’s house.
“Aren’t you two just as cozy as a pair of pearls in a puka shell?”
I bolt upright at the sound of Dosinia’s sneering comment. I know Doe is not in my room—she hates the human world and wouldn’t set foot on the mainland if you paid her.
The first thing I remember is I’m not in my room. I’m in the deep blue hole on Calliope’s Challenge island. And the second thing is that I fell asleep next to Quince so my temperature regulation would keep him warm too.
Only sometime in the night we moved from sleeping next to each other to sleeping cuddled together.
Roused from his sleep by my movements, he stretches his arms wide and yawns so loud, he practically roars. “Morning, princess.”
Peri clears her throat with a pointed a-hem.
Quince’s eyes finally spread open. His broad smile shows no shame—not that we have anything to be ashamed about. “Morning, ladies. What brings you to our fair island?”
“The Challenge,” Peri replies with a smile. “I’m administering one of your tests.”
With a strong kick, I jet away from his side. Giving Dosinia a skeptical look, I ask, “And why are you here?”
She shrugs and purses her glossy lips. “Uncle Whelk asked me to help.”
Thanks, Daddy.
Certain I look like a fright, I try to tame my curls by running fingers through my hair. It’s so unfair that Quince can wake up looking exactly like he did when he went to sleep, only with sleepy eyes and pink cheeks.
“So what’s the test?” I ask Peri, trying to ignore how Dosinia is eyeballing Quince’s bare chest. Maybe I should have made him keep the T-shirt on this time.
“It’s going to be super-cool,” Peri exclaims. “You’re each going to make a gift for the other.”
“A gift?” I ask.
“Yes.” She claps her hands. “I’ll stay in the pool and help you create your gift. Dosinia will go with Quince above the surface to make his.”
“Are there any requirements?” Quince asks, proving that he’s actually awake and paying attention.
“Nope.” Peri shakes her head. “Just that it has to be hand-made. And with Lily in mind.”
This sounds dumb. How does my making a gift for Quince prove anything about our unsuitability?
He doesn’t seem quite as skeptical. “Let’s get to it.”
With a strong push off the ledge that has been our bed, he shoots toward the surface. Dosinia looks right at me as she says, “This should be fun.” Then she smirks and follows Quince.
“Could she be any more obnoxious?” I ask once she breaks the surface.
“Probably,” Peri says absently. “So what do you want to make?”
I look around the hole. All I see is a reef wall dotted with brightly colored anemones and sea fans and other marine life. If this gift is supposed to be for Quince, I can’t use anything perishable like anemones or kelp. On land, those would just rot in a day or two and wind up making his room stink worse than it probably already does.
“I have no idea, Per,” I complain. “The hole doesn’t have much to offer.”
“Why don’t we explore some?” she suggests. “I’ll go up, you go down.”
I shrug in agreement. As she kicks up to the top of the hole, I swim down. This is stupid. I’m never going to find something that Quince will—
Before I even finish my mental whine, I see it. A perfect blue sand dollar, about an inch and a half across. Quince was fascinated by the sculpture in the starfish room, so maybe he’ll like this.
I let Peri know I’ve found something. Her shadow moves over me as she swims down to inspect my find.
Maybe I’m wrong.
“He’s going to hate it,” I grumble. “I don’t know anything about what he’d want. See, we’re totally unsuitable.”
“You never know,” Peri says, admiring the sand dollar. “Maybe he’ll love it.”
I shrug off her suggestion. It doesn’t matter. I’m not about to spend all day making a stupid gift for a stupid test because my dad won’t grant the stupid separation. Quickly locating some chorda, I braid together a makeshift string that I know will dry into a ropelike finish when it hits the air. In a few minutes, I’ve finished the cord and strung the sand dollar at the center.
