We sat in the car awkwardly, neither one of us speaking a word. Every now and then I'd take a quick glance at Nate, not wanting to stare too long in case he turned his head and caught me. His stony silence reminded me how I'd run off the other day, trying to remain non-dramatic, but failing. I remembered what happened after I dried off from my journey to the bottom of the sea.
I opened the door into my house, immediately running up the steps into my bedroom.
"Ashlyn?" I heard my mother call. "Ashlyn are you alright?"
There was obvious worry in her voice.
"I'm fine mom," I answered, to make sure she didn't join me in my bedroom for a talk. There was a little quiver in my voice; I felt the lump in my throat that told me I was about to cry. I forced back the tears, clamping my mouth shut and refusing to open it. If I did, I knew a sob would escape. And that would make me weak.
I slammed the door to my bedroom, locking it quickly before crumbling onto my bed. How could I have let Nate get to me? I wiped the tears from my eyes, the only water that wouldn't transform me. I would not become some over-hormonal dramatic teen girl.
I only cried for about five more minutes before the silent darkness of sleep took control of me.
I looked over at Nate once more, this time not recoiling in fear of him catching me. The moody gray light emitting from the sky illuminated his face. The sun was brooding behind a series of gray clouds, and the dull light made Nate's face look moody and emotionless. Which, it was. All the humor from before had been wiped from his face.
I looked down at my lap, my purple suede fringe bag lying there. I fiddled with the strap to busy myself, catching Nate looking at me out of the corner of his eye. I blushed, remembering him calling me "hon" not too long ago. Ugh, why was I blushing because of him? It's not like I like him or anything!
"Ashlyn," Nate said, his voice seeping into my brain. "We're at school." I looked up, making sure not to put his face into my line of sight. Sure enough, we were in front of the old brick building. I swung open his convertible door, slinging my bag over my shoulder and speed-walking away from his car. I was sure I didn't look cool, but who cares? It's not like I need to impress anyone.
Making sure Nate wasn't following me, I slowed to a walk. There weren't very many people around; maybe ten or twenty. I was walking slowly when suddenly, my arm was being tugged around to the side of the school.
"Paisley," I said, my eyes closed. The shade the school provided felt nice on my skin. "Why'd you drag me over he;" I stopped mid-sentence as I opened my eyes. The person in front of me was not Paisley or even Nate. Actually, it was some dude I'd never seen before. He had moved his grip from my arms to my two shoulders, and he was holding on tight.
"I'm onto you, little girl," he said, even though he looked maybe seventeen, not that much older than me. He shoved me back into the gloomy sunlight before stalking away into the building.
'Little girl?' I thought. He wasn't much older than me! I rolled my eyes, trying to prove to myself that I was not frightened at all. I was the opposite of frightened; I was excited? No, the adrenaline rush was from fear. Okay, I was scared. On to me?
I admit, I was half scared, half excited. Scared because apparently, some guy thinks he knows about my mermaid-ness. God forbid, I'd be sushi within the week. I was excited because the guy was pretty damn cute. And that's a bonus, despite the terror.
I shrugged my bag higher onto my shoulder, shaking off what just happened. What did he mean by "I'm on to you"? How could he possibly know that I was what I was?
I scampered into the school, praying that this mysterious boy was not a new student at my school. He was certainly large enough to be a substitute teacher, but damn I hope he's not even that. With my luck, he'll be in school with me, watching my every move.
I glanced around, looking for him. I was about to do the only sensible and possibly insane thing I could; confront him. I spotted him just turning a corner. I jogged up behind him, not caring how dumb I looked.
"Hey, dick," I called. "What's your deal?" I breathed, putting my hand on his shoulder, stopping him.
"What do you mean?" he asked, feigning innocent. He smiled crookedly, and I hated him a little bit more.
"That thing that just went down, to the side of the school," I said, pointing in the general direction of where we were. He had no way out! He couldn't just tell me it was nothing because no random person just walks up to you and tells you "they're onto you". Doesn't happen.
"Whoa whoa whoa, slow down, feisty. You don't even know my name," he said, shrugging my hand off his arm, raising his hands into the air like a criminal; and I was the cop.
"And you know mine?" I asked, raising one eyebrow. "Because it sure as hell isn't 'little girl'."
"Maybe," he shrugged again, lowering his arms. "Aidan," he said, offering me his hand. Reluctantly, I shook it, not sure what to think of him.
"Ashlyn," I said, not offering him my hand to shake. He smirked, and in response I offered him a scowl, scrunching my nose up like I'd smelled something awful. He laughed, then returned his face to its previous, serious expression.
"So honestly, what was that about?" I said, placing my hands on my hips and cocking them to one side. He smiled, then opened his mouth to tell me.
"Ashlyn!" Paisley said, bounding into sight and grabbing me by the arm, dragging me away from Aidan.
"What the hell did you do that for? I was asking him a question." I sent Aidan a fleeting look over my shoulder. He waved good-naturedly before turning around and walking in the other direction. Paisley pulled me around a corner.
"Ooh, did I ruin something?" She winced. "He was cute, sorry, Ashlyn," she apologized. I sighed and leaned back against the lockers. "Is he new here?" Paisley perked up at the thought of this, smiling and trying to look around the corner to catch a last glimpse of him. "He's tall and those muscles! Oh god Ashlyn, I'm sorry." She frowned again, looking at the ugly tiled floor. "I ruined your shot, no doubt the school whores will try to make a move on him soon." That did not make me feel any better.
"Ugh, Paisley!" I sighed, cupping my face in my hands. "He was going to tell me something...very important." She looked at me with her eyes, her big eyes. I forced a smile. "It's fine, I'll catch him later." She smiled and then we began to walk down the hallway. Even though I knew he was long gone, I kept glancing over my shoulder for Aidan.
"Oh, Ashlyn, here comes Nate!" She was looking behind me, raising her hand to wave. I swatted her arm down.
"I'm sort of mad at him," I muttered, letting go of her arm. She looked away quickly and bent down to my ear.
"Why? What'd he do?" she whispered, as though he could hear us from all the way down the hall.
"Well, er, nothing, actually," I said sheepishly. It was actually stupid for me to even be mad at him. God, I was so emotional last night. Did I...did I cry because we could never be together? I don't even like him!
"Go talk to him," Paisley was cut off by a loud buzz; the bell. I wasn't sure I had my story straight, so I took the bell as an excuse to avoid him for one more hour.
I skipped into art, only to come to a halt at the door. Sitting in my usual seat was none other than the mysterious Aidan. I groaned; typical teenage drama. Of course he'd be a new student, in at least one of my classes.
Normally, I sat alone and the table meant for four. Guess the table will be half filled now. I sighed and sat as far away from him as possible. I couldn't even change tables, thanks to these stupid assigned seats.
"Well, hello to you too," Aidan said with a slight grumble to his voice.
"Before my friend rudely," I'm not mad at Paisley, "dragged me away from you, you were gonna tell me something," tell me, tell me now, "and I want to know why you're on my case," just tell me and I probably won't get mad.
"Nah, I like a cliffhanger," Aidan said, looking down at the desk. He had drawn a small beach scene on it. "Keeps people on their toes." He smiled to himself, adding some seagulls to his miniature beach sketch.
"Subtle," I sneered, putting my elbows on the table and my chin in my hand.
"I like beaches...they're quiet...great for secrets," he said, never looking up from his minute drawing. Beaches and secrets? That's not something that comes up in normal conversation. I stood up, knocking my stool onto the floor in the process.
"Okay, dude, what's your deal?" I said, slamming my hand right onto his table art. He looked up at me, before whispering:
"I'd be a little quieter. People might get suspicious." He then grabbed my wrist and picked it up, placing it a few inches from his picture. I looked down at him, ripping my hand from his grasp easily. I rolled my eyes, then picked my chair off the ground. Aidan looked at me, then his gaze shifted back to his apparently interesting eraser.
I walked over to my art teacher's desk, taking my folder and sitting back in my chair. Pulling my pencil portrait out of my portfolio, I leaned closer across the table to Aidan.
"What do you know?" I hissed, vehemence oozing from my every word. Letting two boys in on my secret in one week? Damn, I've lost my touch. "Talk," I spat.
"Ashlyn, calm down," Aidan said, looking at me with his dark brown, almost black, eyes. They weren't cold, but they held warmth at their center. They were as dark as the sky, glittering like onyx. "I know that you're a mermaid," he said coolly, never moving his glare. He had spoken so quietly that I was pretty sure no one else could have ever heard. Just in case, I looked around to make sure no other students had heard him.
I blinked a couple of times before answering, keeping my face straight. "Really," I said with no humor. It was technically a question, but I was seething that I couldn't make my voice higher. "And how do figure that? Mermaids aren't real, jackass."
"Ashlyn, that is an entirely different subject that I will save," he said, opening the folder the teacher passed out, "for another time." I furrowed my brow in what I hoped screamed "annoyed.
"I suggest you be nice to me if you want to keep your fishy little secret," he said hotly. "Wouldn't want anyone to think something's...up." He smiled crookedly, focusing on the blank piece of paper before him. He picked up his pencil and began to sketch a drawing of a person.
I remained quiet, not daring to say a word after his threat. I focused on shading in my person, keeping myself locked in my thoughts. The classroom was no longer comfortable, but rather very hot. My lungs ached and I found it hard to breathe. I needed water, ay-sap.
I need extra water, being what I was. Slowly, I raised my hand.
"Yes, Ashlyn?" the teacher called, pointing at me with her paintbrush.
"Can I get water?" I asked hoarsely, my throat rapidly growing dryer than a desert. My instructor nodded, and I bolted to the door. I swore I heard as I was leaving, "fish out of water." Casting a fleeting glance towards Aidan as I rushed to the water fountain, I swung myself from the room, dashing to the nearest water fountain.
I smacked my hand onto the moist button, the fountain came to life. I shoved my head in front of the stream of water, gulping down as much as I could. As long as it went straight down my throat, I'd be fine.
"Jeez, dehydrated or something Ash?" I heard behind me. I took my hand off the button, letting my hair fall to my shoulder. I stood upright, looking right at Nate.
"A little, yeah," I said. "Listen, Nate, there's this new guy, and-"
"Yeah, all the girls are talking about him. He cute?" Nate added, a little bit of worry in his voice.
"Irritating is more like it. But that's not the issue. He knows about me." I looked up into Nate's eyes, worry playing across all of my features. A streak of panic crossed Nate's face before he dramatically shut his eyes.
"I'm going to hurt him," Nate grumbled.
"No, no, it's fine," I said quickly. "I can handle him. Don't worry about it."
"At least you're talking to me again," Nate muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets. "See you later." He bent down for a drink, and I stared at him for one second too long before walking back to art.
As I walked in, everyone turned to look at me like a criminal. I raised my hands in defense, still moody over Nate's snide remark. I plopped down into the seat across from Aidan.
"Dude," I said after he was staring at me for, like, five minutes. "Private work here," I breathed, moving my arm like Vanna White, showcasing my artwork. Aidan rolled his eyes and went back to his portrait. Since I had left, it had grown features. Big eyes, full lips, a small, straight nose. As he began adding the hair, I noticed the portrait looked somewhat like me.
"Beautiful picture," I congratulated him sarcastically. "Who's it of?" I asked, raising my eyebrow and smirking smugly. He picked a navy blue colored pencil out of the tin can and began shading the girl's eyes.
"That's not my eye color," I said, only to have him laugh.
"Gotchya," he said, replacing the navy color with a bright aqua. Satisfied, I continued coloring my picture of myself. My hair was a bit redder than my real hair, but it looked fine, so whatever.
The bell rang, and we both put our drawings of me into our folders. I could only sprint out of there so quickly.