Читать книгу Oceanborn - Amalie Howard - Страница 14

5 Game On

It is dark and empty—a cavernous, echoless abyss. There’s no light, only oily black depths beneath and beside me. I am but a speck at its epicenter. I scream, but the only thing that escapes my mouth is a mute bubble that floats away into the ever-deepening silence. I thrash, my arms and tail caught in the motionless void. It is futile.

I am trapped.

Something snakelike slithers down my arm, and then another and another, until my body is fraught with it. Glowing red eyes appear in the distance, drawing closer and closer, blackened tentacles bleeding outward and encircling me.

Ehmora.

“You’re dead,” I say. “We killed you.”

“Did you?” The voice laughs, the sound like a volley of bullets. “Then why am I here?”

“You’re a ghost. A nightmare. Nothing more.”

“So it would seem....”

I jerk upward gasping, sweat dampening my neck and back. My entire body is shaking from the visceral dream. I can still feel her tentacles cutting into me like a fiery brand. Of its own volition, my gaze slides down to the vinelike navy tattoo winding around the tops of my shoulders and neck. I take a breath, banishing the remnants of fear. The tattoo is a mark of the bonding with Lo, nothing more. It’s not alive. There are no tentacles. And Ehmora is dead.

Still, the implication of the dream is haunting. I felt so powerless and alone in the abyss, unable to move or act. The phantom Ehmora’s last words were so utterly chilling...so knowing...that I can’t help the shiver winding its way through me.

Attempting to exorcise my irrational fears, I step out to the patio and into the cool night air and lie back on a lounger to stare into the dark sky. It’s a cloudy night, with no moon or stars visible above. The wind whistles through the tops of the palm trees along the edges of the property, growing louder by the second. The unpredictable shift is in response to me—I’m sure of it.

I’ve always had a tempestuous relationship with weather, and while I’ve learned to harness my emotions, sometimes it’s impossible to keep it all in. For a heartbeat, instead of suppressing my feelings, I release my inner demons, watching as jagged lightning rips the sky into two. Sure enough, the first droplets of rain hit my face and bare legs. The ensuing storm is violent but brief, the angry purple sky fading as the clouds part to reveal a gilded sliver of moon. The release feels good as the rain intensifies into a pelting force and I relish the sting, letting it filter through me. Eventually the rain gentles to something more tender as my thoughts drift to Lo. The drops of water from above mix with the salty tears on my face, and I allow myself the luxury of crying for the first time in months.

A queen must show no weakness.

Curled into a ball with sobs racking my body, I don’t even notice the gentle stroking across my shoulder at first. But after a few seconds, I lean back into the person lying beside me on the lounger, hugging me from behind.

“It hurts too much,” I choke out.

“It’s okay, child.” Soren’s voice is soft, pulsing in our language. Her fingers are softer still, caressing my back in a soothing motion.

“I did it, Soren,” I whisper brokenly. “I made it happen.”

“No, my lady,” she says. “You could not have predicted any of this. You did what you thought was best to keep him safe. To keep all of us safe.”

“He should have been with me. In Waterfell. Not here. And not alone.” My words are raw, shattered gasps, clawing their way out of my throat. “He couldn’t have known what bonding would feel like, either. And I pushed him away, ripping us both apart when we should have been together. Thinking it would be better. For both of us. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t.”

Soren turns me around gently to face her, her eyes flashing green fire. “Don’t do this to yourself, Nerissa. It is what it is.” She wipes the tear-rain combination from my face with her thumb. “Lo is seeing the neurosurgeon this week. We’ll know more then on how we can help him.”

“We don’t know that we can help him,” I say in a defeated voice. “His human DNA is doing things that we have no experience with.”

“He’s Aquarathi, too,” Soren says. “Which means his capacity to heal is better than any human’s.”

I meet her eyes, hope blooming softly. “I hope you’re right.”

“See what the doctor says, and we’ll go from there. Come on, let’s get you back to bed. Big day of school tomorrow.”

“Soren, did you talk to Speio? About what I saw on the beach?”

Soren nods, her face grim. “No traces of anything.”

“Was he sure?”

She pulls me close in a warm embrace. “Don’t worry. Echlios will make sure Speio didn’t miss anything. Now, you need to get some rest.”

Despite Soren’s comforting words, I can’t help feeling a sense of dread, like an invisible net is closing in, one that we can’t see or avoid no matter how hard we try. I know what I saw earlier—it was one of Cano’s creatures...watching...and wanting me to see it. Taunting me...Cano’s way of saying I have no idea what’s coming next. And the truth is, none of us do. Not even with Lo. At the end of the day, he’s still a cross-species alien/human hybrid, and anything the neurosurgeon says will be speculation at best.

With a last look at the rapidly clearing skies, I allow Soren to walk me back to my room, where I fall into a fitful sleep.

* * *

“Come on, slowpoke!” Jenna shouts, slamming her locker shut. “English is this way. Forget how to navigate these hallowed halls already?”

I haven’t exactly forgotten, but the sight of Cara all over Lo at the far end of the lockers is already making me sick to my stomach. It’s not so much her flirting that’s getting me...it’s the look on Lo’s face, as if he’s enjoying every minute of it. Which, I remind myself, he’s bound to...he’s a boy.

I remember Jenna’s words from yesterday evening when we’d driven back from the beach. Fight fire with fire.

Of course, it didn’t help that she made me watch Grease for inspiration—girl-next-door tutorial on how to lure the quintessential bad boy—emphatically stating that there’s nothing that black leather pants can’t accomplish. Laughing, I told her she’d have to kill me before getting me anywhere near leather pants. But she has a point. He’s not exactly going to notice me if I’m a mute wallflower.

Smoothing my hair and cringing inwardly, I take a deep breath, lick my lips and strut past them.

“Hey, Lo,” I say in a breathy voice, blushing furiously at how ridiculous I must sound. But obviously he doesn’t think so. Neither does Cara. They both stare at me—him with an appreciative smile, and her, not so much. But I’m not there to win Cara over. I’m there for Lo. “You heading to English?” I ask him, ignoring her scowl. “I wanted to ask you something about Sawyer.”

“Yeah,” Lo says, grabbing his books. “What’s up?”

Elated, I ignore Jenna’s raised eyebrows and congratulatory wink from the rear of the room as we walk into class together. I turn slightly and see Cara trailing behind us, her face a hilarious combination of thunder and puke. Sawyer waves, and Lo plunks down in a vacant seat next to him. I take the spot next to Jenna and stifle a grin as Cara is forced to grab one of the few open seats at the front of the class.

Nerissa, one. Cara, zero.

Mr. Donovan clears his throat and pushes his spectacles up on his nose, smiling widely. “Welcome, class, we have a few new faces this week.” Everyone looks around in unison to check out the “new faces.” So far, it looks like one new girl and a guy who I thought graduated last year. Guess not. Oh, and me, which would explain why everyone’s staring at me as if I have a bull’s-eye tattooed on my forehead. Technically, I’m not new but, well, tell everyone else that. Mr. Donovan continues. “This week, we are going to start with The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde, which is one of my favorite plays.”

Amid the groans from the class, I smile to myself...finally something new that I haven’t read on my own. At least I can drown myself in that if things get rough—nothing like academics to take a girl’s mind off unrequited love. I glance at Lo through my lashes. He’s flipping through the pages of the play, his lower lip caught between his teeth. I can’t help noticing how cute he looks, yet how different. Gone are the rebellious flip-flops from last year, which aren’t part of the Dover Prep uniform, as well as his permanently sand-covered feet. Gone also are the days when he used to cut class just to go surfing. The old Lo would have been horrified to be in class on time or to be caught without an appropriately bored expression on his face. A part of me desperately misses that boy, but I know he’s in there somewhere...somewhere beneath the meticulously neat hair and immaculate uniform.

Mr. Donovan thumps his book on the desk, making me jump, and people swivel to the front of the class. “You are going to work in groups of four or five, and each group will be assigned a specific theme to discuss. As part of your midterm, there will be a debate between each of the groups to prove or disprove the theme you have been assigned. This will count toward half of your final grade in this class, so please take it seriously. The group assignments are as follows.”

The assignments are all alphabetical, so my silver lining is that Cara is an A last name and Lo is an S, but nothing prepares me for the pure venom that comes my way when Lo and I somehow end up in the same group. In this class there aren’t many last names between Marin and Seavon. Jenna is also in our group, as well as two other boys. Sawyer is with Speio, so he doesn’t look too miserable at having to split up from Jenna. The new girl—Rian Thorn—is with them.

Jenna catches my eyes and I can see her lips twitching as she nods at the theme that Donovan has just written up on the blackboard for our group. I almost snort—The Double Life. Someone definitely has a sense of humor, considering that there are two aliens pretending to be human in this group alone. Well, not that Lo knows that he’s alien, but who’s counting?

The rest of the morning passes in a bustle of activity, running from class to class, and getting myself reacquainted with the routine. After American Government, Advanced Math and French class, I trudge toward the cafeteria and toss my books and my food-laden tray down onto an empty table. Jenna, Speio, Sawyer and surprisingly Lo immediately join me. They look exactly how I feel. Wiped.

“Seriously,” I say. “Is senior year supposed to be death in a backpack? It’s only lunchtime, for crying out loud. How’d you guys survive weeks of this already?”

“Dover Prep prides itself on academic preparation for college-bound students,” Jenna intones, mimicking the opening statements on the Dover Prep brochure.

“Guess they didn’t include torture and cruel or unusual punishments,” Sawyer quips.

“I didn’t think it was too bad,” Lo says, and we all turn to him in unison, our expressions identical.

“Who are you and what have you done with Lo?” Sawyer says, widening his eyes in mock shock. “Oh, right, he’s on hiatus, which means new Lo loves schoolwork.”

Lo reddens. “I don’t love it. I just don’t think it’s that bad. Big difference.”

“Well, the old you couldn’t be bothered, that’s all,” Sawyer explains. “I mean, you haven’t even asked me to cut school once. So it’s weird seeing you, of all people, flipped around and all about the books.”

“Sorry.” Lo shrugs. “It’s just that I don’t know how I used to be, and it feels like I should be good in school because this stuff isn’t too complicated to me. If I do it well, why not do it?” We all start laughing and Lo gets even redder, realizing that that, too, is something the old Lo would never say. “Look, I’m just trying to figure out who I was. Give me a break, will you?”

“Sorry, man, just playing around,” Sawyer says, chucking him in the shoulder. “We all know who you are. You’ll remember soon enough.”

“I guess we haven’t really seen you since school started,” Jenna pipes up. “You’ve been over there.” She nods across the room.

“Sorry, Cara’s been helping out,” Lo says a trifle defensively. “I didn’t want to be mean.” His eyes dart over to where said stony-faced helper is sitting with her entourage. “I think I’ve made her mad by even coming over here.”

“The old Lo wouldn’t have cared,” I blurt out, earning a swift glance from Lo.

“The old Lo sounds like he was a dick.”

“Hardly. He just saw through the bullshit. He knew how to read people.”

“Like you?”

“Especially me,” I say quietly. The memory of a different type of conversation, on a boat in the middle of the harbor, whispers through my mind. Lo had always been able to see right through me, even at my worst.

“Wow, you two want to take it down a notch, or what?” Jenna interjects to diffuse the sudden tension hovering over the table. “Dick or not, you’re still our friend.”

Lo lounges back in his seat. “So, what else did I do? Or not do? Besides not caring about school, seeing through bullshit and being an amazing surfer, according to Nerissa.”

The sound of my name on his lips makes my stomach feel all fluttery, but I stuff a huge bite of cheeseburger in my mouth so I don’t have to talk. Sawyer does instead. “Well, she’s right. You were pretty awesome, but you’re getting there,” he says. “We’ll have you back surfing double overheads in no time. Right, Riss?”

Lo’s eyes meet mine. “Sure,” I choke out, stuffing another bite into my mouth. “Sorry, hungry,” I say by way of apology and stare at my tray, avoiding Jenna’s amused look.

“So, since we’re on the topic, can I ask you guys a weird question?” Lo says, his eyes making the rounds at the table. Jenna nods on behalf of everyone. “Did I...date Cara?” The dead silence is so thick you could cut it with a knife. Everyone around me stares at the tabletop. Surprised, Lo hurries to explain. “I mean, it’s just that she’s so possessive sometimes, and I feel as if she expects me to be a certain way, so...” He trails off, a helpless expression on his face.

“Do you like Cara?” Jenna asks carefully.

“She’s all right,” he says. “A little neurotic, but who isn’t? And she’s been supernice over the last few weeks.”

“That’s not an answer.”

I try to act like the real answer to Jenna’s question won’t affect me, but it’s a losing battle. The silence thickens to uncomfortable proportions, and I realize that I’m holding my breath. I exhale silently.

“I guess I do. Or did. I don’t know. I mean, it feels like we’re close.”

“So, which is it?” The question isn’t from Jenna. It’s from me. I’m shocked that I’ve even said anything, but obviously I have, if Jenna’s open-jawed expression is any indication.

“I don’t know,” Lo says. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make things weird.” He laughs awkwardly. “Please tell me I didn’t insert my foot in my mouth because I dated any of you?”

To everyone’s surprise, Speio leans in, his face grave. “Well, I didn’t want to have to tell you this way. But, well, we dated. We were in love. I’m heartbroken that you don’t remember the glorious nights we shared.”

Relieved at Speio’s thoughtful intervention, I try not to burst out laughing at the convincing wounded expression on his face, but the look on Lo’s face is priceless. His eyes are wide and he’s staring from Speio to each of us in turn.

“Really?” Lo asks just as Sawyer muffles a snort.

Speio and Sawyer convulse into gales of laughter. “No, dude. Not really.”

“Not that I would care either way,” Lo says, grinning good-naturedly at their teasing. “I mean, you’re a good-looking guy, and, well, I’m me. So naturally, I could see how you would be devastated.”

“There’s a spark of the old Lo.” Speio grins. “But yeah, not devastated.”

“Yeah, that would be Nerissa,” Sawyer blurts out, and Jenna kicks him in the shins. His eyes widen in delayed realization of his gaffe and he gapes, panicked, from me to Lo, his mouth opening and shutting like a fish. A part of me hopes that Lo didn’t hear, but of course, I don’t have that kind of luck.

“What?” he says. “Why would she be— Oh.”

“We dated briefly,” I say in as normal a voice as I can manage, despite my quickened pulse.

Lo’s eyes are liquid. “We dated?”

I’m saved from having to answer as a shrill voice interrupts us. “I’d hardly call throwing yourself at someone dating, but whatever. Nerissa never says no, if you know what I mean.”

As much as I want to stuff Cara into a tiny box for her catty comment, I’m grateful for not having to answer Lo’s husky, far-too-intimate question. Pushing back from the table, I grab my backpack and tray. I’ve had enough of this conversation, and I have no interest in rising to Cara’s baited words. Jenna, however, has no such compunction.

“You wish that were true, Cara,” Jenna says with an eye roll in Lo’s direction as she, too, stands and gathers her things. Her eyes are glittering like an avenging angel’s, leaping to my defense. “If you must know, Cara was the only one who couldn’t help flinging herself at you. If you don’t believe me, ask her what she went as last year to Junior Prom.”

“Shut up, Jenna,” Cara seethes.

But Jenna doesn’t wait for Lo to ask. “You were Neptune, and she was your slutty little sea snake.”

“I was an electric eel!” Cara screams shrilly.

“Eel, slutty sea snake. Same diff,” Jenna tosses over her shoulder, nearly shoving her chair into Cara. She’s about two inches shorter than Cara, but it doesn’t make a difference as she steps up a hairbreadth from Cara’s nose. “I’d be very careful if I were you,” she says to her softly. “When Lo regains his memory—and he will—you’re going to look quite the fool because you’re not his girlfriend. So remember that when you’re trying to rag on my friend. Nerissa may have the patience not to respond to your crap, but I don’t, so back the hell off.”

I swear that everyone’s collective jaw is on the floor, mine included, as Cara swings on her heel and storms off.

“You coming?” Jenna asks me in a casual voice as if she didn’t just flay my archnemesis alive in front of the entire cafeteria. “See you after school, hon,” she says to Sawyer, and bends to kiss his cheek.

“You are so hot right now,” he says.

“I know.”

“Thanks, I think,” I say to Jenna, following her into the hallway. I wave halfheartedly in the general vicinity of our table, not interested in seeing what anyone thinks of Jenna’s outburst—particularly Lo. Or Speio, for that matter. “What happened to your speech about forgiveness last year, and taking the high road with Cara?”

Jenna grins. “No one but me calls my best friend a tramp and gets away with it.” She sends me a sidelong glance. “Sorry, I couldn’t help it. I know you don’t like scenes, but with all the Lo stuff, I just kind of lost it.”

I smile. “No, it’s okay,” I say. It was oddly satisfying to see Cara looking like she was throwing up in her mouth. “But you know there’s going to be payback, right?”

“I’m not afraid of Cara,” Jenna says, wiggling her eyebrows. “Plus, I can feed her to my very own sea monster as a snack if she gets out of line.”

I snort out loud. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”

A toothy grin. “See? I don’t have to have fins to be fearsome.”

I nod vigorously. “No. You definitely don’t. We’ll make an honorary Aquarathi of you yet.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”