I opened my eyes, and smiled lazily. I didn't remember my dreams, but I knew they had been good. I could hear the low sound in the background that I associated with the sea; a sound of birds, surf, and the cool salt breeze keening over the rocks as it fought against the oppressive heat of late summer.
The sound of the beach wasn't actually the sound of the sea, I realised. Sure, the waves were in there, a rhythmic pounding, and the sound of the spray thrown up by the rocks. But it wasn't the sound of water flowing. It wasn't something that would set off the compulsions I'd unwittingly given my sister, and I was glad of that. I didn't want to cause any more trouble for her, even after her attempts to hurt me today. The best way to get revenge is to be unlike the one who wronged you, I'd read that somewhere and I was sure that it was from someone famous or intelligent. I would let her be herself, until all this strange anger against me dissipated. And if she tried to hurt me by doing things I enjoyed, there was no reason for me to complain.
It was still dark, although the sky was starting to fade from black to blue-grey. At this latitude, at this time of year, that could have meant it was any time between four and six in the morning. Too late to wake up if I thought about it. So why had I woken? I reached down and checked my diaper. Soaked, of course. I'd had a few cold drinks last night, and perhaps Lindy had brought them a little more frequently than I would have had myself, but that wasn't such a big deal. I did need to pee, but when I'd been sent to sleep by the insidious magic of Mister Tunes I could just as easily have wet my diaper again and gone straight back to sleep.
I sat up, and felt the swollen diaper pressing between my legs. It really was soaked, but surely not enough to leak. And on such a restful night, I realised that it actually felt kind of good. It was like sitting on a tiny water bed, firm enough that I could feel it but soft enough to make it comfortable, the pressure moving back and forth as I let myself rock against it and test the feeling. Then the stabbing in my stomach got my attention again, and I knew it was that feeling that had woken me up. Any sleepiness quickly faded with the threat of impending diarrhoea to wake me up, and I staggered out of my room and down the hallway to the bathroom. As I passed Lindy's door, almost opposite mine, I could still hear the reassuring monotone of a computer-generated narrator reading out a book. It must have been earlier than I thought, then, because Lindy rarely cued up chapters with an estimated time of more than an hour to lull her to sleep.
I got to the bathroom in time, thankfully. Even after I stopped for a second or two at the end of the landing because the faint glow from the night light on the stairs was glinting off something I wouldn't otherwise have noticed, and I felt obliged to grab it.
I knew once I tore the diaper off that there was no chance I would be able to put it back on again, but I don't think I would have tried even if I hadn't torn the plastic in my urgency to get it off. I was content to sleep like a big girl now, and maybe my sister would find a way to baby me again tomorrow.
My mind was eager to think of anything but where I was right now, and the current state of my guts. So I let my mind wander and wondered what my revenge might be. After she'd tried to humiliate me in front of Gabe, I felt that it had to be something fairly serious, just for the principle of the thing. It was the second time she had tried to humiliate me in front of someone else; and even if Gabe knew about our prank war, I didn't want him to be visualising me in diapers every time we met. And I wanted to show her that doing something like that was a bad idea, because I didn't want it to become a habit. But I had a lot of rules in my mind; probably more than Lindy would stick to. I never wanted to traumatise my sister, and I would stay well away from anything Mum had said was out of bounds. She knew better than I did what was likely to cause problems I hadn't even thought of. So there was nothing left that I thought would impress on her that she was pushing the limits. I would have to keep on looking; something was bound to come to mind sooner or later.
Then I saw the little trinket I had picked up on the way in. I'd dropped it on the counter next to the sink in my rush to get the diaper off, and it was still sitting there. I reached out and took a closer look. I wasn't particularly puzzled as to what it was – it was one of the tiny jars that we used for condiments and sauces when we were eating out of the desk, so that the sea air and blowing sand wouldn't get inside. But why would this one have been stowed away in the tiny gap between two pieces of timber where the banisters up and down joined the door frame closest to the stairs? I opened the lid, and I had my answer with a single sniff of the contents. I did my best to contain my anger as I threw the diaper in the trash, washed my hands, and picked up the little jar. This was certainly out of order.
I might have started thinking about doing things I might regret. But two steps outside the door, I noticed that there was a light on downstairs.
"Are you okay, baby?" Mum called softly. "You're not trying to get changed all by yourself, are you? Do you need some help to get back to sleep?"
"It's okay!" I mumbled, and then a note of panic slipped into my voice. "I'm not wearing– I mean, you only said I have to be a baby for the rest of the day. And it's morning now, right?"
"Of course. I just thought I might need to comfort my little one if she can't sleep. But if you want to be an adult, that's always your choice. Was it anything we did? I hope last night wasn't too much for you, or too cruel?"
"No, it was wonderful. Even Lindy. I just needed to... I wasn't feeling too well."
"Not ready to make stinky diapers like a baby?" she laughed. "I can't say I blame you. I hope you'll feel better by the morning, I wouldn't like it to hang over the whole trip."
"Yeah," I couldn't quite stop myself from growling as I said it. I was really angry now, but I didn't want Mum to see that. I wanted to feel like I could deal with this myself, even if I had no idea how.
"Feeling down?" she asked, and I nodded. "Want to talk about it?" This time I shook my head. "Want a little pick-me-up? I think you might have another message waiting on your phone since you went to bed. Unless you read it without me noticing while we were all in front of the television earlier."
"Can I?" I asked nervously. We'd both gotten in trouble a few years before for sitting up all night chatting on our phones, before falling asleep the next day in the middle of some show that Dad had spent a great deal of effort getting us last-minute tickets for. Now our phones were both in a charging cradle next to the TV, out of reach between midnight and breakfast. But if Mum was suggesting I read my messages, I thought that it might be something important. She nodded, and I went down to sit on the couch so I could check.
"Would you like another diaper?" she offered, while I was going through my phone's notifications in search of an important one. "If you'd like a little help to relax until morning, that's fine by me. Or if you'd rather be an adult for now, that's fine too."
"I don't know. I think I'd rather not be in diapers if there's a risk I'll be rushing to the bathroom again. It was hard enough getting the last one off in time. But depending what there is for me to read on here, it might still be easier if I was just a little kid."
Mum nodded, and understood. She sat back in her chair, and waved me over to sit in her lap. She held me gently and sang a lullaby that I vaguely remembered from years before, although I was sure there hadn't been so many family in-jokes in the lyrics the last time I heard it. She didn't ask anything, just held me close and sang while I read the latest few messages from Hugo. There was something he was embarrassed about, I knew that. But he was also ashamed to keep it a secret, so he kept getting incrementally closer to telling me what he really wanted to say. There wasn't much of a big reveal here, but there were a lot of hints that he really cared about me, and that he wanted to find the right words to express what was on his mind even when it was hard for him. To me, that mattered more than all his looks, skill, and popularity. The fact that he was determined to get the message across, just because he cared about what I thought.
It didn't take me long to read his messages, or to send a couple of replies. I didn't spend too long thinking about what he was actually telling me, because there still wasn't a complete message there. He was giving me bits and pieces, like a jigsaw, and I could see just enough to know that I still needed a lot of straight pieces to finish the top edge.
In between messages from Hugo, I had something else on my mind. Glancing at the phones next to the TV had made me think of it. For a year and a half, Lindy had been listening to stories. She was a member of a website, FictionLibrary, that let you read stories submitted by other users. And one of their features was an AI voice that would read out the next chapter for you, like an instant audiobook. It worked for Lindy because the AI voice was carefully selected to be neutral, and never had too much emotion. So she could fall asleep listening to that monotone, even if she didn't care at all about the genre or content of the stories it was recommending to her. I thought she was just picking them at random now, because she found that voice soothing. But it was different when we were at the beach house, because she couldn't listen to them on her phone. She would have to pick a small selection of stories, start it reading, and then redirect her phone's output to the smart speaker in her room. That meant she could still listen, but if she even gave the speaker another command Mum would see it in the logs. It let her listen, so there would be an emotionless voice in the background as she tried to sleep, but there was no chance she would abuse the privilege.
The speaker had been reading when I ran to the bathroom, but silent when I came out. It must have reached the end of the playlist. And the report from her watch said that Lindy was asleep now; just dropping back into the beta phase after a half-hour of deep sleep. It was a lot earlier than I had thought; barely after midnight now. The moonlight outside must have been bright enough to simulate the first traces of dawn.
Lindy was being a real pain today. She had broken so many rules, and she showed no remorse at all. I needed to give her some kind of sign that this was unacceptable. Or that was what I told myself. Deep down, I knew that Lindy wouldn't realise I was taking revenge for her actions, even if she realised it was me. Over the whole summer, she had failed to notice that she only wet the bed after she had said or done something particularly cruel to me. She still wouldn't see the connection, but right now I felt like I needed to do _something_ that felt like revenge, whether it would be effective or not. A few buttons on my phone, and the smart speaker in Lindy's room was softly playing a loop of the Rauros Falls. I knew it was childish, and I knew it was unnecessarily cruel. I really didn't want to hurt my sister, but in that moment I felt like if I didn't do something to get back at her I might explode.
But this was the last time, I promised myself. I wouldn't do this to her again.
"What's that you've got there?" Mum asked, as I tapped the button. She pointed, and I realised that I was still holding the little condiment jar in a clenched fist. I couldn't hide it now.
"It was wedged in a gap in the banister," I said. "I only saw it because the nightlight caught it at the right angle."
"Lindy hid a locket there once," Mum said, taking the little pot from me. "Found it on the beach. She was so upset that I said we should try to find the real owner. She made me promise never to tell you about that little nook, because she thought it was really funny that you walked past so many times without seeing it. But why a jar of–" she raised the little jar, popped open the lid, and sniffed at the red-black powder inside. When she realised what it was, her fist tightened as fast as mine had. But she licked one finger and dabbed at the powder, tasting it to be sure before she jumped to conclusions. "Smoked paprika? Really? I can't believe she would..."
"What bothers me most is that I wasn't surprised," I said. "But she wants outrage. She wants me to be angry, and I'm not going to give her the satisfaction. I... might have done something a little more mean than I would normally think of in response to that prank. I'm sorry."
"You don't need to apologise. Your sister does. But I'm afraid I have to ask you to be an adult for one more moment. Seeing this, and the discomfort you have been in, I think is enough to tell Lindy that she is a baby for the rest of the week. No potty privileges, and given what she tried to do, there would be no exceptions to that. But... I get the feeling you would feel more guilty over that, and it would be like I'm punishing you. As well as depriving you of the teasing that I think you actually enjoy. So... I think you would insist that I simply tell your sister that this is the last of her last chances. Right?"
I nodded slowly, and Mum hugged me. And before I could respond, she was carrying me back up to my room again. Talking to me like a small child who'd had a nightmare, and reassuring me that I didn't have to worry about a thing.