Chapter 13
Chapter
Thirteen
Jane insists we go to the hospital.
It’s a humiliating affair. There aren’t any towels or blankets in the car, and I’m too broad to fit into her coat, so I stroll into the emergency room in a glorified loincloth, hoping I look pathetic enough that nobody judges me.
Luckily, the hospital has towels on hand, and they shove them at us while we wait, dripping and mostly naked in the lobby. If Jane is embarrassed to be seen with us, she has the wherewithal to hide it.
I burrito myself in white and blue striped towels and moan, “Thank you,” into her shoulder. She pats me on the arm sympathetically.
Duncan goes back first, probably because he’s bleeding and because I told the staff I thought he had a head injury. I wait another thirty minutes, which is long enough for the cops to show up. They’re wildly unimpressed by my story.
“So you’re the one who toppled the ruin, huh?” one grumbles, looking me up and down.
“I just wanted to see it—” I begin. To my horror, hot tears spring to my eyes. I hurry to wipe them, but I already know it’s too late. My face is probably already tomato red and splotchy.
Officer Herrera, at least, is sympathetic.
She nods as I bumble through an explanation.
“I wasn’t climbing on the ruin,” I explain.
“I just… My mom died recently, and I just… She really loved the ocean, and I wanted to see it,” I explain.
I start crying again, but at least this lends some credence to my story.
The lady cop looks like she wants to hug me.
“I guess I shouldn’t have gotten so close to the ledge. ”
The male cop, Officer Jones, is less convinced. “How did you two survive?”
“Duncan is a really strong swimmer,” I explain. “He got us to shore.”
“Sounds like you owe Duncan your life.”
I nod and cry some more.
“You don’t have a history? You weren’t fighting or anything, were you?”
My eyes just about bug out of my head. “No. No way. We barely even know each other.”
Officer Jones crosses his arms. “He just saw you fall, huh?” He doesn’t sound convinced.
I purse my lips and nod.
He sighs. “Fine. If your friend’s story checks out, you’re in the clear.”
That’s not exactly reassuring. I have no idea what Duncan is going to say to them.
But I don’t have time to worry about that, because I’m getting to whisked to a room where they insist on giving me some fluids and checking me for a concussion.
There’s a cut at my temple that requires stitches.
I squirm through them and wish that they’d let Jane in the room with me.
By the time we get home, it’s nearly dawn.
I fall into bed and don’t wake up until after dark.
I spend two days lying in bed, watching the ceiling spin.
I do, in fact, have a concussion, although I could’ve mistaken it for a migraine.
Light hurts my eyes so badly that I thumbtack a sheet over the window and stuff a towel under the door.
I hide under the blankets whenever Aleo has to turn on a lamp.
My head feels like a cracked egg. My face is bruised. I’m going to have a scar on my head like Frankenstein’s monster. I can’t deal with that, so I lay in bed and dehydrate.
On the second day, I receive a package. It turns out to be a new phone, courtesy of Gretchen, who was notified of my accident by the hospital.
It’s on her family’s plan. I start crying when I read this and have to assure Aleo that nothing’s actually wrong.
As punishment for my isolation, he hands me a new smutty romance, Tanya and the Seven Sexy Sirens, and informs me that I’m expected to play the role of Siren Number Three, Romero, at dinner tomorrow night.
My head is killing me. Normally I wouldn’t even glance at something like this when I have actual homework that I’ve been neglecting, but I’m intrigued by the title. Sirens.
Am I… Am I a siren? The only person I feel safe asking is Duncan, and I have no way of contacting him until I’m well enough to go to class.
And he didn’t know what I was, anyway, so I’m not sure why he’s the first person to come to mind.
I hope he’s in better condition than I am, already back in class and caught up on his homework.
I’m not a siren, I decide an hour later.
Not if this book is at all accurate. I didn’t sprout any wings, and while people do have a weird reaction to my singing voice (which is why I don’t sing), I’m pretty sure I couldn’t use it to force them to do my bidding.
There must be a difference between sirens and merfolk, even if I’ve always heard the terms used interchangeably.
I make it down to dinner the next day. Aleo reminds me that I’m going to waste away if I don’t start eating and drinking again.
“And you are absolutely not allowed to lift weights or use a Stairmaster until you get the all-clear from a doctor,” he snaps at me, which, fine.
I can jog instead. Maybe if I take enough Tylenol, it won’t feel like my head is about to explode.
The next morning, I give Jane my new phone number (and maybe I texted Jeremy, too, just in case). “Glad to see you’re alive,” she says, only a little disgruntled.
“I owe you,” I say, but she shakes her head.
“I’m just glad you’re OK.” Then she glares at me and adds, “Don’t do it again.”
I barely survive class. I’m lucky it’s Friday, because I’m definitely not well enough to be here, but I can’t afford to take any more time off. The fluorescent lights make me feel like I’m going to throw up, but I’m already behind by an entire lifetime.
At the end of history class, it’s my turn to pass Duncan a slip of paper. It’s not much, just my new phone number and the word, Thanks, but he looks like I just handed him the keys to the kingdom, so I guess he doesn’t hate me.
I really want to sniff his hair.
After dinner, Jane pulls me away before I can start my new role as Sexy Siren Number Three, which is both a massive relief and also kind of disappointing, because a part of me was looking forward to seeing exactly how Aleo would handle the role of Tanya (April was tired of playing damsels in distress and would instead play Sexy Sirens Four-Seven).
Very quickly, I’m wishing she’d left me to my fate, because her lips purse as soon as we’re alone, and I know I’m about to get the riot act.
Instead, she says, “So what happened after you fell?”
It’s a question I kind of answered at the hospital. If I shake my head and whine, she’ll let it go. But I want to tell her the truth. I won’t do anything to implicate Duncan, but I need someone to talk to. Someone who can keep a secret.
And Jane has been bracing for this. She hasn’t said it outright, but I know that she’s been trying to lead me to a certain conclusion for a long time. I’ve stubbornly avoided it, but I’m out of time.
She deserves to know.
I grimace, look around. We’re out on the main square, but most everyone else is at dinner.
My temple throbs. “Walk with me,” I say, and she gives a sharp nod, like she’s been expecting this.
“I hit my head,” I tell her, jabbing a finger at the bandage along my hairline.
I make sure to speak too quickly for her to interrupt, because the last thing I want right now is pity.
“And when I woke up, Duncan was trying to keep us afloat. He had this cut on his neck,” I gesture to my throat and Jane winces.
“And he kept going in and out of consciousness, and I… I had to take over.” My voice is thick.
I swallow and try to continue. “I, uh? My legs wouldn’t work. ”
“Oh, Dominic,” she says, like she already knows, and I can’t help it; I start to cry a little bit.
Maybe more than a little bit. Fat tears drip off the ends of my eyelashes. If I had any shame left, I’d be embarrassed.
But I don’t, so I let Jane lead me to one of the many benches dedicated to Edna the Great. I plop down beside her and wipe my eyes. She puts an arm around me while I force myself to take a deep breath.
“I didn’t look. I couldn’t look. But my hands…” I splay my fingers out before us, wriggle them a bit. “There were scales,” I mumble. “And like, this weird webbing. And claws. Really scary claws. I think I cut Duncan’s neck.”
“You weren’t awake for that,” Jane points out softly.
“I still feel bad.”
She sighs, then smirks a little bit, just this side of mischievous. “So that’s what happened to your clothes.”
“I think they just shredded when I… you know.”
She covers her mouth with her hand, barely suppressing a laugh. “I was wondering what the hell happened there.”
“I’m hoping the cops thought I just kicked them off because they were too heavy.”
But this, apparently, doesn’t require a response. Jane goes silent a long moment, and I’m just starting to worry when she says, “So Duncan knows.”
“He promised not to say anything.”
She exhales slowly through her nose, then asks, “Do you know why he jumped in after you?”
A thousand responses fill my mind. Um, because I’m hot, obviously. Maybe he wanted to rescue me? Maybe he was suicidal?
But the truth is: “I don’t know.”
Frowning, Jane says, “I would’ve called 911.”
“I know,” I say. “You’re practical like that.”
Jane shakes her head. “He just jumped in?”
“I guess so.”
“Is he a swimmer?”
“Um… I don’t think so. Not really?”
“He’s either an idiot or he really, really likes you.”
That’s a weird thing to say. “Why do you think he likes me?”
Her laugh bursts free, wild and disbelieving. “Dominic. Seriously? Are you blind?”
“I’m concussed,” I grumble. My headache won’t let me forget.
“OK, but you haven’t been concussed this whole time.” There’s an amused glint in her eye. I’m a little annoyed that it’s at my expense, but mostly, I’m just glad to see her smile. I was kind of afraid our friendship wouldn’t survive this bullshit.
“No,” I mumble. “But he’s weird. Remember that one time when we had to keep switching partners in History?”
“A little bit.”
“He thinks I’m an idiot,” I say, reaching up to rub at the back of my neck, which is beginning to ache. I’m overdue for painkillers, I realize with a stab of annoyance. I don’t like being reliant on them.
That’s another reason I want to avoid dinner. I don’t need to eat when I can’t exercise without fainting.
“Do you think so?”
“Isn’t that why he’s always trying to give me the answers?” At the rate Duncan’s going, I’ll be lucky if he doesn’t try to take my exams for me.
“Maybe he’s trying to help.”
“Seems unlikely,” I say, even as my brain suggests an alternative; misguided. “Anyway, I’m sorry. About everything.”
Her green eyes look me up and down. Finally, she says, “I’m just glad you’re OK.”
“Mostly thanks to you. I thought we were gonna freeze.”
She nods, but I can tell she’s thinking about something else. I make a show of examining a leaf that has floated down to my lap. Campus is vibrant with the changing leaves—gold, red, orange. It would be breathtaking if my head didn’t hurt so bad.
“So what happened to his clothes?” she asks, wrinkling her nose. “Did he just… jump in after you naked?”
My face heats. “I didn’t think to ask. Maybe he was already naked?”
Jane bursts into laughter. “And doing what?”
“How am I supposed to know? Maybe he was fucking somebody on the cliff. Or something.” I cross my arms. Scowl. “Look, I was doing something important. I just wasn’t paying attention.”
She doesn’t know how drunk I was, I remind myself sternly. And I don’t want to disappoint her by alluding to the truth. Judging by her expression, she’s already guessed.
Now it’s Jane’s turn to cross her arms. “Promise you won’t do anything like that ever again.”
“I promise,” I say. “Trust me, I don’t want to go through that again.”
She scrutinizes me. I squirm under her gaze. Finally, she says, “Do you want to go back to the beach and see what you look like?”
What.
At my expression, she looks pointedly at my legs. “You said you didn’t see what you looked like.”
I inhale slowly. Try to slow my frantically beating heart. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Avoiding it won’t help.”
But I shake my head. “Not right now.”
I don’t know how to convey the absolute terror that I feel when I think about transforming—shifting—again. It’s impossible to comprehend the shock of an unfamiliar body, the absolute agony that accompanies a shift, if you’ve never experienced it before.
Not to mention the fact that I have no idea what my natural predators are.
Am I the predator? Or do I need to worry about orcas mistaking me for a seal?
Are there sharks in the Pacific Northwest?
If I go back into the water, am I immediately going to be swarmed by, I don’t know, a pack of wild tuna? Do tuna travel in packs?
“Hey.” Jane puts a hand on my shoulder. I realize then that I’m hyperventilating. “What’s going on?”
“Um…” I wipe my eyes, force a grimace. “Do tuna travel in packs?”
“Schools, Dominic. They travel in schools.”
“OK, great. Next question: Will they eat me?”
“Oh my god!” She laughs and swats at my shoulder.
I grin my best shit eating grin and for a moment, things feel lighter.
Then Duncan Stirling emerges from the shadows between buildings as I’m walking home, and ruins my night.