~
The first week of school went by at a snail’s pace. I felt trapped, and started to plan my escape, considering how to persuade my father into letting me enroll in an on-line school. I wondered what he would say if I told him I had spoken to a mermaid, much less questioned him about what she had told me. Asking about my mother pretty much got me anything I wanted, but it came at the terrible price of seeing that familiar pained look on his face. I was more afraid of confronting my father than I was of seeking out Lorelei again.
The stares and whispers continued, and I got the sense that everyone was trying to figure me out, frustrated at their failure to categorize me. I arranged my face in a studied mask of indifference and went about my days ignoring everyone except Megan and Cruz. Lots of boys tried to catch my eye or strike up conversations but my distant nature and choice of friends put them off. Good, I thought, anyone who didn’t appreciate Megan and Cruz wasn’t worth knowing.
Friday after lunch I was digging art supplies out of my locker when Heather approached me. I looked up, surprised. She was friends with Shayla, the mean blonde girl, and rarely even acknowledged me in art class. I had never once spoken to Shayla, though our paths crossed frequently. The open hostility she displayed towards Cruz and Megan made it clear that she wasn’t interested in being friendly with any of us.
“Nice shoes,” Heather said, eying my flats. “Are those really Prada? And is that a real Chanel bag?”
“Yes,” I smiled brightly, pleased that someone spoke fashion. Evie’s obsession with designers might just be the bridge to some common ground with these girls.
“Are you like, rich or something?” she asked.
“No,” I laughed, shaking my head, “not at all. My aunt buys me things she likes.”
“You mean Cruz’s mom? That stupid hippy? She doesn’t even drive a decent car!” she said with scorn. My eyes flew open wide and I turned to look at her with outrage. I had to fight a strong urge to smash her head into the locker. At that moment, Ethan walked up and stopped in his tracks, surprised by the look on my face. I don’t know what came over me, but I turned away from him.
“Excuse us,” I said through gritted teeth. I grabbed Heather’s arm tightly and steered her around the corner.
“If you ever… talk … about Abby that way again …” My voice shook with anger. I took a deep breath. “I will pull every hair out of your head.” Heather stared at me like a deer caught in the headlights. I let go of her arm and she scurried away. I wheeled around and ran smack into Ethan.
He looked down into my blazing eyes with amusement.
“Wow,” he said. “Remind me to never make you angry.”
I went back to my locker and collected my things. When I slammed the door shut Ethan was leaning there, staring at me. His dark blue eyes drilled into mine.
“What did she say about Abby?” he asked seriously.
“Why don’t you ask her?” I said, my voice dripping with acid.
Ethan walked alongside me to art class, casting sideways glances my way. I was practicing the deep calming breaths that Abby had taught me in yoga class. I couldn’t remember ever feeling so angry, and my sudden violent thoughts frightened me. I wondered if my mother had a temper, because my father rarely even raised his voice. I felt like something dangerous was welling up within me, something wild and out of control.
When we got to art class I scanned the room for a seat as far away from Heather as I could find. I took the last empty spot at a table with three boys, who all stared at me, dumbstruck. This forced Ethan to sit with Heather and Jamie, who cast triumphant glances at me, smiling smugly.
We were tasked with drawing a mythical creature of our choice, which struck me as highly ironic. I thought about the first time I saw Lorelei rise from the water and started drawing feverishly. Her image came to me with with crystal clarity, and I remembered the surge of shock that brought me to my knees. I lost myself in that memory, drowning out all the chatter in the room. The sounds of the class became like the roar of the surf to me, and when the teacher called for us to stop I looked up, disoriented and dazed.
I could hear the boys snickering as they looked over at my drawing and was suddenly mortified. I had captured Lorelei perfectly, and the expression she wore took me right back to that day. The only problem was that she was bare breasted, and she happened to look almost exactly like me. I quickly slammed the drawing pad shut, holding it to my chest. Mr. Briggs came around to collect the art, which he routinely posted on the classroom walls for a group critique. I refused to hand it over.
“Now Marina,” he said. “We are all our own worst critics.” He reached out his hand for the pad. I looked around and saw everyone watching, surprised because now they knew how well I could draw. The boys at the table started laughing, and Mr. Briggs looked alarmed. I slowly reached my hand out and passed it over with a pleading look. He flipped it open and studied it briefly. His face was impassive, unreadable. He closed the pad and tucked it under his arm.
“Please see me after class,” he said, and continued down the row of desks. The bell rang and the room was noisy with the bustle of students filing out. I sat at my desk, pretending to arrange the things in my bag, willing the class to clear out quickly. Ethan went out last, standing in the doorway as if to wait for me.
“Please excuse us,” Mr. Briggs said to him sternly, and he reluctantly turned and left.
Mr. Briggs walked over to me solemnly. “Marina, you are one of the most talented students I’ve ever had the privilege to teach. Your sensibility is remarkable, and your level of sophistication is clear.” He handed me the sketchpad. “This is a beautiful piece of artwork, and in any other venue it would be appropriate.” He smiled reassuringly at my worried face. “Let’s just keep it rated ‘G’ from now on.” He walked towards the door and turned back. “You know, you really ought to consider taking some life drawing classes at the junior college. I can give you a recommendation if you’re interested.”
My cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Thanks, I’ll think about it.” I gathered my things and left the room to find Ethan waiting outside.
“Marina,” he called, rushing to catch up to me as I hurried away.
“What?” I asked, tersely. I really didn’t want to answer any questions about what just happened. After the day I had I really wanted to go home.
“I was wondering if tomorrow would be all right for a swim lesson,” he said, “I work on Sundays.”
“I haven’t had a chance to get a wet suit yet,” I replied, pausing impatiently.
“I think I have one that might fit you,” he said, sizing me up, “from when I was a kid.”
“Well … Okay, I guess,” I couldn’t think of a good reason not to.
I looked up to see Shayla and her friends watching us. The waves of hostility coming from them were palpable.
“I think your groupies are waiting for you,” I said sarcastically. He looked over at them, and back at me with exasperation.
“Do you and Cruz need a ride home?” He asked.
“No thanks, Abby will be here soon,” I turned and quickly stalked away.
“See you Saturday,” he called after me.
~
CHAPTER NINE
SWIM LESSON