Deep Betrayal

chapter 9

SERIOUS



I fell asleep with MY SCRIBBLINGS still in my hands. Sometime after two a.m., the rain stopped and the silence woke me. Moon shadows flickered across my walls. June bugs bounced against the window screen. Restless and lonely, I tiptoed down the stairs and out the door, closing it gently, resisting the pull of the springs that wanted to snap it shut. The porch steps creaked, but I didn’t think the noise was enough to wake Mom.

I walked halfway across the yard and peered out toward the islands, wondering where Dad and Calder were now. “Calder,” I said, under my breath.

“What are you doing, Lily? I told you to stay away from the water.” I turned and saw a dark shape sit up in the hammock under the trees.

“Calder? You’re back? Already? What are you doing in the hammock?”

He answered my questions in succession. “Yes. Clearly. For now. And trying to sleep. You’ve been tossing and turning all night.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were out here?”

“Jason told me not to.”

“And you listened?”

“Of course I did. I want to stay close to you, and he wasn’t about to let me sleep in the house. How could he explain that to your mom? I’m supposed to be on Madeline, living on my parents’ sailboat. Remember?”

“Yeah, but he’s making you sleep outside?”

“I always sleep outside. Don’t be mad at him. I promised I’d behave, and I want to stay on his good side.”

“So …?” I asked. “How did it go?”

Calder smiled in the darkness. “He transformed, all right. He’s a natural.” His eyes tightened on the last word. “Better than me when I was new.”

“Where is he now?” I asked.

“In the house, hopefully sleeping. The transformation back to legs took a lot out of him. He was puking for a good half hour.”

I bit my lip and turned to look at the house. “Are you sure he’s okay? Maybe I should go check on him.”

“Relax, Lily. This went much better than either of us expected. Something about science types, they find this whole thing more fascinating than horrifying. That must be why Mother sought them out.”

I groaned in disgust.

“Hey,” Calder said. “Don’t forget this was your idea. We’re heading out again at sunrise.”

I climbed into the hammock alongside Calder. His muscular arms enveloped me, warming me against the night air. Then his fingers lifted the beach-glass pendant off my chest and turned it around in his fingers, just as he had once before.

“What is it?” I asked.

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. There’s something different about you. The last couple of days, it’s like your colors are changing. I can see them even in the dark.”

I shifted uncomfortably in his arms. “Well, I have been under a little stress.”

“I know what stress looks like and, yes, I can see that, too, but that’s not what I’m talking about.”

“Well, do I look different good or different bad?”

“Neither. Just different. You said your parents gave this to you?” he asked, still studying the pendant.

“It was a family heirloom from my grandpa,” I said, gently taking his hands from the necklace.

“Tom Hancock?” he asked, his voice raising.

“Shush. Geez, relax.”

“You’re right. You’re right,” he said, stroking my hair. “I’m sorry. Old prejudices die hard. Still, could you take it off for a second?”

“Why?”

“Just curious.” He reached behind my neck with both hands and undid the clasp, releasing the chain around my neck. I took it from him and slipped it into the pocket of my sweatpants.

“Better,” he said. “You look more like you again. I wonder why that is.”

We lay in silence, the night pressing in on us, as I convinced myself that any kind of different would mean different-bad to Calder. When the silence grew to an uncomfortable length, I broke it.

“It’s killing me to think about you and Dad out there when I can’t come with.” My lips brushed against his shoulder as I spoke. A strange bitterness percolated in my gut.

“I know it is. I can see that, too—probably more clearly than you’d like to let on.”

“I never thought I’d have to be jealous of my dad. Other girls, sure, but—”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said, his hand slipping under my shirt, his long fingers encircling my waist.

“Did you ever think what would have happened if Dad hadn’t been there to pull me out?”

“I try not to.”

I pressed my nose to his neck, behind his ear, and breathed in the heady scent of him. I whispered, “If Dad hadn’t pulled me out of the water, I would have died.”

I felt a shiver run through him, and I cherished the confirmation that changing colors apparently didn’t change how he felt about me. “You said you would have reinvigorated me and made me a mermaid.”

“Those were desperate times. Desperate thoughts. It wouldn’t have worked. I told you before, only a mermaid can reinvigorate.”

I ignored him. “Then I’d be the one swimming with you this summer, instead of being on house arrest.”

“A part of me does wish you could come with us.”

“Then bring me,” I said, tracing the contours of his lips and then kissing them softly.

He pulled away, saying, “Please take this seriously. It’s important. You don’t want to undo everything we’ve worked for. Your dad without a target on his back. My freedom. Your safety.”

His words slowed to a deep, rhythmic pulse. Like blood through a vein. Like salmon pushing upstream against the current. I stared into his eyes and found my mind adopting the same steady pulse as his words, until my thoughts slowed to a stop, incomplete and lost. Just as a brilliant counterargument would occur to me, it would dissipate in the night.

“Go to sleep, Lily,” he said, and although I protested with my words, my mind was in complete agreement. I closed my eyes for only a second. That was my first mistake, because when I opened them again, it was morning. It was raining. And Calder was gone.


I did my best to follow Calder’s house-arrest orders. Honest truth. The first day, I folded everyone’s laundry and did the dishes for Mom. I dusted; I vacuumed; I alphabetized the CD rack, then the spice rack—pretty much did anything I could think of to kill time.

But by the second day there was nothing left to clean. I stared into my closet, wondering if I could color-code it, but the whole thing was getting ridiculous. Screw it. I needed air, at least air that didn’t smell like Pine-Sol.

Outside, a storm front was rolling in. It was the kind of weather that made me feel boxed in. I pulled on my running shoes and ran out the front door and up the berm on the far side of the road, through the pine forest, and along a well-worn deer path. There wasn’t any harm in this. It wasn’t like I was going to run into a mermaid out here. I wasn’t breaking any of Calder’s rules.

I picked up my pace, reveling in the feel of the wind against my face, until the path dipped into a mud-slick ravine and slowed me down. I crept down the steep slope, carefully inching my way along the edge, clinging to pine branches to keep my shoes semi-clean. I thought I was past the worst of it when I slipped on a patch of loose pine needles and had to catch myself against the trunk of a tree. A layer of amber-colored tree sap smeared against my palm.

As I looked for something to wipe my hands on, my eye caught a movement on the path ahead. I watched as a guy dressed in a dirty baseball uniform approached. He didn’t see me. His eyes were on his shoes as he kept track of his footing. Baseball cleats hung around his neck. He was about my age and not much taller than me, stocky, with brown, shiny skin—like an acorn—and gelled, spiky black hair.

He held his expression in a serious scowl, and when he got ten feet from me, he inhaled sharply and looked up with a panicked expression. Surprisingly, his wide, frightened eyes were a pale sky blue.

He said, “Whoa! You’re a long way from home.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “Do I know you?”

He gave me a puzzled look. “Huh. Guess not. Thought you looked familiar for a second.” His face fell back into its serious frown, and he looked over his shoulder as if he were being followed. “What are you doing out here?” he asked.

I wanted to retort with It’s a free country, but just because he was impolite didn’t mean I had to be. “I thought I’d get some exercise. Go for a run. But the path’s a mess.”

The serious boy laughed, startling me with his volume, like I’d said the funniest thing he’d ever heard. I took a step closer, but my foot caught on a tree root, and I stumbled forward. I reached out to catch myself on him, but he leaned back, letting me fall in the mud.

“Careful!” he said. “Don’t touch me.”

“Geez, what’s your problem? Ah, crap, these are newish pants!”

“Listen.” He looked over his shoulder again, as I got back on my feet. “I’m not supposed to be talking to you anymore.”

“Anymore?”

“You know what I mean.”

Behind him, the muffled sound of voices grew louder. Then he whispered, “I gotta go. Do us both a favor and hide behind that tree. I don’t need my brothers to see you. They wouldn’t like it if they caught us talking.”

The approaching voices rose and fell with bits of laughter.

“But—”

“Go on,” said Serious Boy. “Hide.”

I ducked behind a massive cedar, muttering, “Whatever.” As ridiculous as I felt, something made me take Serious Boy’s advice. From my hiding spot, I watched as several boys with baseball bags slung over their shoulders made their way up the path. Their once-white pants were pulled up to their grass-stained knees.

“Too good to walk with us?” yelled one.

“That’s right,” said Serious Boy.

I peeked around the side of the tree and swiped at a bee that buzzed by my head. One of the boys turned around to look, and I ducked back before he saw me.

“What’s wrong, G?” Serious Boy asked.

“Nothing,” said the other. “Thought I heard something.”

“Quit being so jumpy. Maybe if you got your nerves under control, you’d stand a better chance of hitting the strike zone.”

“That’s big talk from Mr. Oh for Three.”

I listened as their feet sloshed away through the pine needles and last year’s leaves. When I thought it was safe, I snuck another peek, and found Serious Boy walking backward, thirty yards ahead but still looking at me. He shook his head and gave me a patronizing look; then he turned, talking loudly and forcing a laugh.

I watched until they were out of sight. After they were gone, I stood—baffled—behind the tree, wondering why I was hiding and why a gangly bunch of ballplayers posed any kind of threat. I bet the boy was having a good laugh at how gullible I’d been to listen to him.

I took my time walking back to the house. If I couldn’t even manage a run in the woods without paranoia setting in, this summer was going to totally suck. I left my muddy sneakers outside and threw my pants in the laundry before running up to my room.

There was a pink envelope on my bed. I broke the seal and pulled out a grocery store greeting card with a picture of a droopy-eyed basset hound. I’m Sorry, it said on the front. The handwriting inside was unfamiliar.

Dear Lily,

You probably think I’m the biggest prick ever. And maybe I am. I’m sorry I was so angry at you last night. I’ve made stupid decisions. You’re entitled to make your own. But I really do need you to back me up on this. So call me ok so we can talk it through.

Jack

I dropped the card in the wastebasket and walked down the hall to the bathroom. I stared at the face in the mirror. Dark circles lurked under my eyes like lazy purple moons. I splashed water on my face and leaned my forehead against the glass.

I wondered what color I’d look to Calder right now. I bent low and drank from the faucet, swishing the water around in my mouth and spitting every lonely thought down the drain.