~
The next morning Ethan arrived exactly on time, waiting on the porch as I stood in the doorway calling for Cruz to hurry. We piled into the truck with our book bags, Cruz yawning and looking around inside the cab. I sat in the middle, acutely aware of the way my leg brushed up against Ethan’s with every bump and jolt. He could have left me a little more room.
“Nice truck,” Cruz said to Ethan. “It’s a classic.”
“Thanks,” he replied, explaining how he’d rescued it from a junkyard and restored it. Cruz knew a surprising amount about engines and they talked about the work Ethan had done as we drove along. I was happy they were friendly, and I sat between them silently, my mind elsewhere.
“You’re quiet today,” said Ethan, casting a sideways glance at me.
“Uh huh,” I said.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
I was surprised he noticed, because I was feeling particularly edgy. I knew those boys in art class were running off at the mouth about me, and as much as I pretended it didn’t matter it really did. I expected I’d be treated to another round of stares and whispers all day long, making me waste all my energy acting like I didn’t notice. At the moment, I wanted to be anywhere but school.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said, but I really wasn’t.
I think he could tell, because we pulled up and he turned to look closely at me. “Don’t worry so much,” he said as he parked the truck.
As much as I was dreading what lay ahead of me, I was even more focused on what had happened last night. I couldn’t stop thinking about the prophetic vision I spoke in the mermaid’s strange language. I was anxious and fretful, wondering how I’d even find Lorelei. I formulated the questions I’d ask her, determined to get to the truth. I had no idea how I’d manage to get through a whole day of school.
We thanked Ethan for the ride and parted ways.
“Are you gonna be all right?” Cruz asked me, a concerned look in his eyes.
“I’m fine,” I patted his arm reassuringly. “I just didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“Well, you looked amazing yesterday. I wish we thought to take a picture. Where did you learn to do such awesome makeup?”
I told him about some of the runway shows that Evie had taken me to, describing how we sometimes got go backstage to watch the creative chaos unfold. Cruz got a dreamy look in his eye as I painted a picture of the frantic stylists, manic dressers and crazed makeup artists putting everything they had into a few short minutes of frenzied artistic expression. Like most of life, fashion shows could be totally different events depending on your perspective.
“I can’t wait to move to San Francisco,” he sighed.
“Hang in there,” I told him. “We’ll be there before you know it.” I thought about how much fun it would be to show Cruz around the city and my spirits begin to lift a little.
The first half of the day dragged on, and by the time we met for lunch I was back to feeling agitated. The weather was clear and sunny so Cruz and I grabbed Megan and we went to eat on the benches outside. I let my guard down a little, relieved to avoid the stares and jabbering gossip in the cafeteria. From the looks I’d been getting, I was pretty sure the guys in art class had embellished the tale of my mermaid drawing considerably.
Cruz and Megan started back in on me about my plans.
“Marina, I can see why you want to meet with Lorelei,” Megan was serious for a change. “But it would be stupid to put yourself in that kind of danger again.”
“I have a wetsuit now–I’ll be fine! If I can speak mermaid there’s so much more I have to know.”
“Can’t you just talk to her from the cement ship?” asked Cruz.
“I can try, but she always disappears when someone comes along. Plus, there’s no guarantee she won’t just drag me into the water again.” I remembered how swiftly she had snatched me off the cement slab.
“Not if you stay behind the fence,” Megan said pointedly.
“I’ve been thinking … if I can find her early, when there’s nobody around, I could change into my wetsuit real fast and you guys could wait for me and–”
“Hold on, Marina,” said Cruz, “I’m not agreeing to anything.”
“Me neither,” said Megan.
“I’ll be fine! I know she won’t hurt me.”
“Not on purpose,” Megan intoned ominously. The bell rang.
Cruz got up. “We’ll talk about your insane plans after school,” he said.
Megan offered us a ride home and we accepted. I started for art class, but passing the girl’s bathroom I ducked in, suddenly feeling dizzy and nauseous. I splashed some water on my face and neck and went into a stall, sitting with my head in my hands. I heard a flurry of footsteps on the tiles and drew up my knees, afraid Megan was checking up on me. I just wanted to be left alone for a minute.
I heard voices, and I recognized Heather and Jamie from art class. Another set of footsteps shuffled in.
“Hey, Shayla,” said Heather, “can I bum a smoke?” I heard a match strike and smelled the cigarette fumes. It made me feel even more sick.
“You guys got art with that freak Marina, right?” Shayla said with contempt.
“Yeah,” said Jamie, “did you see what she was wearing today? Those were like three hundred dollar jeans, and her shoes are like, way, way expensive.” I looked down at my feet and squeezed my eyes shut.
“She thinks she’s so great cuz she has nice stuff. She’s just a stuck up little bitch,” added Heather.
“Her and her queer cousin Cruz came to school with Ethan today. I don’t know how he can even stand to be around those losers,” said Jamie. My blood began to boil.
“She’s totally lucky he works for Cruz’s mom,” said Shayla, “cuz that’s the only reason he’s even nice to her.” I felt my face flush hot.
“Did you hear that she drew a naked picture of herself in art class?” asked Heather.
“Yeah,” Shayla said, laughing mockingly, “what a total slut.” I started shaking with shame and rage.
The bell rang, and after passing around breath freshener they left for class, leaving behind only a cloud of smoke. I wanted to disappear, overcome by a sudden image of myself diving into the ocean and never coming back out. I began walking in the opposite direction from art class, intending to wait for Cruz and Megan in the parking lot. Turning a corner, I ran straight into Mr. Briggs.
“I see you’re late, too,” he said with a twinkle in his eye, “but you’re heading in the wrong direction.”
I reluctantly turned and walked to class with him. When we got there all the seats were taken except the one next to Ethan. I saw him move his books off the chair and look up at me expectantly. I went over and sat down numbly. Heather and Jamie were clearly disappointed to see me show up, looking at me malevolently. I kept my head down and willed the class to end.
We were shown a slide show of Picasso and Braque paintings and instructed to do our own version of a cubist painting. Paints and small canvas boards were provided, and I busied myself with the work, taking pains to avoid Ethan’s eyes. His chair scooted closer to me and I could feel his leg brush up against mine occasionally as we worked. Heather and Jamie chatted away, vainly trying to engage Ethan in conversation. When the time came to pack up Ethan followed me to the sink.
“Can I give you guys a ride home?” he asked as we washed our brushes.
“No, thanks,” I said, my voice thick, “Megan’s taking us.” I turned to leave. When I got to my desk I went to reach for my bag and felt something wet. Someone had dumped the dirty paint water into it. I looked up to see Heather and Jamie scurry out the door, laughing maliciously. I saw red.
Ethan came over to me, worried. He’d seen that expression on my face before.
“What did they say to you?” he asked, alarmed at the smoldering rage in my eyes.
“Nothing,” I replied sharply and turned to go. I grabbed my soggy bag and stormed out to find Cruz and Megan, eage
r to get home and put an end to this day.
I was pacing back and forth, waiting just back from the little cluster of girls standing and snickering at me when I saw Cruz and Megan approach.
“Hey fatty, your boyfriend looks like a girl!” Shayla called out to them. I could see Cruz and Megan look down, cowed. That did it. I raced up to within inches of her face, shaking with a ferocious rage.
My fists were clenched with fury and I spat out menacingly, “Do you have a problem?” Shayla stepped back reflexively, unaccustomed to being challenged. Then her eyes narrowed and she came at me. I had never hit anyone before but I was fully prepared to fight back, too angry to be afraid.
Strong hands grabbed me by my shoulders, lifted me off my feet and moved me aside. Ethan had gotten between us. I looked up to see Shayla’s shocked face.
“Knock it off!” he said to both of us, looking angry. He took me by my upper arm and escorted me to the parking lot, followed by Cruz and Megan. They were staring at me in awe. When we got to Megan’s car I was breathing deeply, trying to control my raging anger.
“Marina,” Ethan said intensely, turning me to face him. “Don’t you know not to mess with someone bigger than you? That girl is tough, she could really hurt you.”
“I don’t care,” I said defiantly, shaking his hand off my arm. He exhaled hard, turning to Megan and Cruz.
“Can you get her home alive please?” He turned to go.
Megan and Cruz scolded me about being reckless the whole drive home, and by the time we pulled into the driveway the storm had passed, and I was feeling calm again.
“I’m sorry,” I said remorsefully. “She’s just so awful.”
“Sticks and stones,” Cruz had said, explaining that fighting back only made it worse.
I couldn’t understand how to explain to them the rage I felt when I saw them being harassed. It was as if I was being taken over by a different me–a more ferocious side of my character was starting to emerge and it was more than a little alarming. The only problem was that I liked the way it felt to give myself over to it.
Once they got over their shock, Megan and Cruz had a laugh about the look on Shayla’s face when Ethan broke up the fight. Then they got back to fretting about what she would do next and decided they needed to stay by my side at school as much as possible.
“We have to stop you from starting a fight,” Cruz said, looking at me like I was a bomb about to detonate.
“You sure do have a bad temper!” Megan exclaimed.
“No, I don’t!” I protested.
Cruz laughed so suddenly he snorted. Megan and I started laughing along with him and soon I felt better than I had all day.
“You don’t understand,” I said, shaking my head, “I never did anything like that before I got here. It must be all the fog or something.”
Cruz laughed his snorting laugh again. “Aptos fog is to blame?” he asked, his voice sarcastic. “What about San Francisco?” I shrugged. He had a point.
Megan studied me, calculating. “Maybe it’s a mermaid thing.”
I cast a cynical look her way and turned towards Cruz. “Please don’t tell your mom what happened,” I asked him. “She worries enough as it is.”
Megan dropped us off, and we could see that Abby’s Volvo was back in the driveway. After dinner that night Abby and I did the dishes together. She asked me how school was going and I put a positive spin on it, telling her how much I liked my art teacher. She told me about her day getting the car fixed, and asked me more about my swimming lesson with Ethan.
“I’m a fast learner. I don’t think you need to worry at all,” I told her.
“It was nice having Ethan over last night. We used to see so much more of him right after–” She caught herself, stopping in mid-sentence.
“After what?” I asked.
Abby turned to me, and I could see that she wasn’t sure what to say.
“You can tell me,” I pushed her, a tactic Evie used frequently.
She pressed her lips together. “When Ethan was just a small boy his mother ran off with another man. His father took it very hard. Poor little guy, I could tell he was so sad, just … lost. I mean, his own mother abandoned him.” She shook her head sadly at the thought. “He used to ride his bike over and spend a lot of time here before the boys kinda just went their separate ways.”
“Whatever happened to the mom?” I asked.
“Nobody knows,” she said. “She just fell off the radar screen.”
“That’s sad,” I said quietly.
She sighed, “Very … but Ethan turned out nice, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”
She elbowed me and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Uh, yeah.”
“By the way,” she added, “he refused to let me pay him for Saturday. He said it was his pleasure.”
I blushed and hugged her goodnight.
Lying in bed that night I thought about what had happened at school. By all accounts I should be afraid but I simply wasn’t. The thought of fighting Shayla actually appealed to me. If she did beat me up I could probably get out of going to school easily. I started weighing my options, imagining how horrified my dad would be if he saw the big bruiser coming at me.
I could egg her on as my ticket out of Aptos High, and he’d have to consider letting me go to an online school. Or, it could backfire and get me sent me off to boarding school in England or something. Either way, it would leave Cruz and Megan stuck taking Shayla’s abuse alone, and I felt strangely protective of them. Plus, I wouldn’t see very much of Ethan …
I thought about the sabotage of my purse in art class. Material things simply weren’t terribly important to me, probably because I never had to work for them. Even though Evie dressed me lavishly, and indulged her every whim with her vast wealth, she also used her money to do a whole lot of good. Overall, Evie was only truly impressed by sheer talent.
She went to great lengths to impress upon me that I mustn’t respect people simply because they had money, and would often point out that true friendship, love and loyalty were priceless, and impossible to buy. Still, she loved her fine things, and laughed that although money couldn’t buy happiness it could certainly be counted on to purchase freedom.
Expensive things were obviously a big deal to the girls at school. Evie’s advice to always dress up in the face of adversity came into focus. I remembered the envy in the girl’s voices as they gossiped about my pricey wardrobe. I smiled to myself. Game on! I would dress to the nines and rub their noses in it. It might be a shallow strategy, but I knew it would aggravate them and the thought delighted me. I got out of bed, slipped on a robe and knocked on Cruz’s door.
“Come in,” he called. He was still up, working on a paper pattern.
“Cruz,” I asked sweetly. “Can I wear that black lace blouse to school tomorrow?”
His eyes narrowed, no doubt remembering how I had looked in it. “Oh, you are bad!” He handed me the blouse with a cynical smile.
I laid out the outfit I would wear tomorrow; Cruz’s blouse, along with my most expensive designer jeans and some tall Michael Kors biker boots that looked as ferocious as the top. I dug through my jewelry box, fishing out an outrageous pair of diamond chandelier earrings. I unpacked a quilted patent leather Chanel bag and put my things in it. They called me a freak and they didn’t know just how right they were.
It was time to let my freak flag fly.
~
CHAPTER TWELVE
SURFING LESSON