I close the door to Moku’s hospital room, then lean back against it as I try to figure out what I want to do. Just my luck—I spent the last two hours psyching myself into coming here to see him, to see Tempest, and I missed her by five minutes. “Gone out to stretch her legs,” her dad had told me. Which could mean that she was anywhere—Children’s Hospital in San Diego was a damn big place. I didn’t have a clue where to start looking. Then again, maybe this was a sign. I’m not big on that kind of thing, but this could be the universe’s way of keeping me from making a total jackass of myself in front of her. She chose Kona, after all. After years of being my girlfriend and my best friend, she ran off to Hawaii with some guy with more tattoos than brains. If I had any brains myself, I’d forget about her. Checking on Moku is one thing—the kid is cool and didn’t deserve what happened to him—but trying to hang with Tempest is a really bad idea. She ripped my damn heart out once. I’m not going to give her the chance to do it again. Screw it. I toss the lunch I brought her into the nearest trash can and head for the elevator. The waves are going off today. I have better things to do than mope around this damn hospital like a lovesick fool, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. Except my feet obviously haven’t caught up with my brain, because I walk right past the elevator. Glance oh so casually into the waiting room. And try to ignore the disappointment sitting like lead at the bottom of my stomach. Deciding it wouldn’t hurt to take a walk around the hospital, see what the place has to offer Moku, I head down the hall. This part of Children’s is built like a square. Four long hallways joined at the corners, all wrapped around a huge patio area with basketball hoops and a bunch of other stuff that the kids who are feeling better can play with. I remember spending time
out there myself when I was younger. I’d suffered a really bad compound fracture while surfing when I was ten, and I’d had to stay here for a few days. I’d passed more than a few hours on one of those patios. I just hoped Moku got the chance to do the same. Guilt rose up in me at the thought. Tempest’s dad called me a hero, Tempest thanked me for saving her brother’s life, but the truth is, I wasn’t fast enough. If I’d gotten there just a little more quickly, maybe we wouldn’t be here waiting for Moku to wake up from a coma. Maybe he’d be home safe, sitting on the couch and playing endless rounds of Skylanders or Madden Football. Pissed off at myself and the world in general, I decide to call it a day. Maybe I’ll text Logan and Scooter, see if they want to get something to eat. Or maybe I’ll just go down to the beach and check out who’s there. That’s when I notice her. She’s watching a little kid—he’s maybe two or three—and he’s holding a red ball that’s as big as he is. It looks like the kid’s mom is trying to play catch with him, but he’s just running around in circles and laughing his head off as his mom holds his IV wire over his head to keep it from getting tangled. Tempest says something to the mom, and they both laugh. I watch like a lovesick fool— Tempest has a great laugh—even as I tell myself to get the hell out of here before I do something stupid. Like rushing out there and begging her to take me back. Which isn’t going to happen. She made her choice months ago and has never looked back. That’s enough for me—a guy has to have some pride, after all.
It’s good logic, which is why it makes no sense when a few seconds later I find myself striding across the patio toward her. She’s settled near the basketball hoop with a large orange ball in her hands. She dribbles a little, makes a couple of halfhearted baskets. I hang back for a minute and just watch her. Sure, it smacks a little of stalkerdom, but I still love the way she moves. All flowing grace and smooth, rolling motions. Just like the waves I’ve given so much of my life to. Telling myself to get going before she sees me mooning over her, I end up doing the exact opposite. Instead of leaving, I call out, “I’ll play you. Whoever gets to fifteen first, wins.” She turns around, a huge smile lighting up her face when she sees me. I try not to let it go to my head . . . or drown in all the feelings left unresolved between us. “I think I should get a handicap. You were MVP of the team two years in a row.” “Three,” I tell her without thinking, then curse myself. Like either of us needs a reminder of just how much she’s missed. “Right. Three. Congratulations.” Her smile looks strained now, and I hate it. Hate this awkwardness between us, when our whole lives things have been easy, right. Trying to break the tension and put us both a little more at ease, I hold my hands out for the ball. “I’ll spot you three points.” “Four points. And I start.” Before I can agree, she whirls around, dribbles a couple of times, then shoots the ball at the basket. It goes straight in. She lets out a loud whoop. “Did you see that, baby? Nothing but net.” She’s so beautiful it hurts to look at her. So I don’t. I grab the ball and dribble it up the half court and back. “Should I rethink your handicap?”
“Not on your life.” She throws a shoulder, bumps into me hard. It’s a total foul, but I don’t call her on it. I shoot, make the basket anyway. She runs for the ball, takes it up the court, but I get in her way. Spread my arms wide and wait for her to run into me. It doesn’t take long, and then it’s just like the old days—no rules, no fouls. Just our bodies bumping against and tangling with each other as we jockey for position. The old, familiar heat starts deep in my gut, and I fight the urge to clamp my hands on her shoulders and pull her in for a kiss like I used to. This is the easiest we’ve been with each other in a long time, and I don’t want to ruin it. Even if the need to touch her is an ache deep inside me. She laughs, totally oblivious to the fact that I want to kiss her. That I just want her. Then she ducks around me, and her breasts brush against my chest while her hip grazes my upper thigh. Shit. It turns me on, just like it always has. I have a fleeting wish that I were wearing jeans instead of my typical board shorts. The last thing I want is for her to know how she affects me. At first I try to ignore the way she’s touching me, tell myself that it’s accidental. Then I get a glimpse of her wicked smile and know she did it on purpose. It’s all the encouragement I need. Stupid and emotionally suicidal it may be, but I want to feel her soft, lush body pressed against mine one more time. She runs down the court, but I stay with her every step of the way. When she goes to make a basket, I cage her in just like I used to. Let my forearms brush softly against her ribs as I inhale the salt-and-honey scent of her that is pure Tempest, and pure temptation. A small jolt of electricity runs through her and into me. It feels kind of nice, familiar but new and a little bit hot. She fumbles, drops the ball. It’s my turn to laugh, with sheer joy. She can
talk about Kona all she wants. She still feels something for me, and for now that’s enough. It’s a start. Not wanting to push too hard and ruin everything, I grab the ball and run it back. She mutters something under her breath and takes off after me, just as I hoped she would. This time, she’s the one wrapped around me, her hands skimming over my sides and back and stomach as she jockeys for the ball. Where normally I’d let her get the ball, this time I hold her off—it feels too good to have her crowded against me. I don’t want it to end yet. But then she presses her breasts tightly against my back and I totally forget that we’re supposed to be playing a game. I fumble like a rookie, drop the ball. She reaches for it, but to hell with that. To hell with basketball. I gently grab hold of her forearms, turn her until she’s facing me. She tries to duck her head, to look away, but I’m not having it. Not this time. I watch her out of narrowed eyes, willing her gaze up to mine. She finally looks at me, her blue eyes so dark they’re nearly black. A current of awareness ripples between us, dark, powerful, undeniable. It drags me back to the way things used to be, the way they’ve always been between us. I want to kiss her so bad that it’s a grinding pain inside of me. But I don’t. I can’t. She’s not my girl any more, no matter how much I wish she were. But then she lifts a hand, lays it on my cheek, and I snap. I just snap. “What are you trying to do to me?” I demand in a voice I barely recognize. “Are you trying to drive me completely insane?” She looks as confused as I feel. “No. Of course not. I—” “I see you everywhere. In the water, on the street, in the halls at school. Even when I know it isn’t you, I still think, maybe . . .”
I pull her closer, until our faces are only an inch or two apart. “I see you every time I close my eyes. I dream about you, about what it was like when you were mine. That’s the only time I’m happy anymore, those moments when I’m half-asleep, when you’re right there, so real that I can practically touch you. “And then I wake up, and remember that you’re gone and it nearly kills me. Every goddamn morning, I get to relive losing you all over again.” “I’m so sorry, Mark. I’m so, so sorry.” Tears run down her face, but I don’t want her tears. I just want her to be honest. I just want to understand why she’s made the choices she has. “When I saw you in the water, I really thought I was going crazy. And I didn’t even care if it meant I got to talk to you, to hold you. But you were real and you kissed me blind, then you just disappeared again, like it was nothing. Like we were nothing.” “No!” “Yes! I went back every day at the same time and waited for you for hours, even after the good waves were gone. I was sure you’d come back, sure you couldn’t just kiss me like that and leave again. But you did. If Moku hadn’t gotten hurt, you never would have come back. I would have been out there waiting for you forever.” And there it is, the truth I’ve been trying so hard to hide from these last eight months. Suddenly I can’t bear to touch her. I let her go and she stumbles. I catch her because I can’t not catch her—we’ve been doing that for each other for well over a decade. But that’s it. I turn away, shove my hands into my shorts pockets and try to force myself to leave. Or barring that, to shut my damn mouth. But it’s like a dam has exploded inside of me, and the words keep pouring out. I hate it, hate being this vulnerable, but I can’t stop it. Not now. Not with her.
“And then, when you finally do come back, you bring him. Kona.” I all but snarl his name. “Every time I think about the fact that I introduced you two eight months ago—” “But you didn’t.” “What?” Now I do turn back to look at her. “I’d met him before, a few days earlier. He came to our beach looking for me—that’s when he met you.” “The bastard.” I know she won’t see it since she’s in love with him, but only a total douche does something like that. Meets a girl, then goes out of his way to make friends with her boyfriend just so he can get a shot at her? And I was a total tool, because I fell for it. “It’s not like that,” Tempest says, making her usual excuses for the jackass. “I mean, it’s complicated.” Something about the way she says it makes me pause. I know her well enough to figure out that there’s more going on here than she’s telling me. Shoving my rage at Kona and my own stupidity down deep inside myself, I relax fists I hadn’t even realized were clenched. And ask the question that’s been burning inside me for a very long time. “Why? Because you’re a little different?” She looks shocked, but that doesn’t stop her from answering. “I’m more than a little different.” She takes a deep breath. “I’m mermaid, Mark. That’s a pretty big deal.” Her words ricochet inside my head even as I try to discount them as nothing but pure fiction. But we’ve been friends for a lot of years—even when we weren’t together—and in that time I’ve seen a lot of weird stuff from her. Especially lately. I’ve let it go because it didn’t matter, only she mattered, but still. It’s nice to know that it wasn’t all in my head. “So I’m not crazy,” I finally blurt out. “That really was your tail.”
“Yep. It really was.” She’s looking at me like she’s waiting for me to freak out. And maybe that’s exactly what I should be doing. But I’m not. Because mermaid or not, tail or no, this is Tempest. Tempest. The only girl who’s ever known me as well as I know myself. The only girl I’ve ever wanted to know that well. “Does it bother you?” she finally asks. The question catches me off guard. “What? Your tail?” “Yes! No, I mean, not just the tail. The fact that I’m mermaid. That I’m not like you and I never will be.” I think about it some more. “I don’t know.” “Mark.” “I’m serious. I really don’t think so. It doesn’t feel like it bothers me, but then I wonder, shouldn’t it?” I shrug. “Maybe I’m not that freaked out because I always knew you were hiding something big.” “What do you mean?” “You think I didn’t notice how cold you always were, except in the water? How you never needed a wetsuit? I was out there the day you nearly drowned, Tempest. I saw your legs just collapse beneath you. Shit, I even saw you turn purple. It’s hard to ignore the whole glowing thing. Or the mystical tattoos that just showed up on your back, no redness, no irritation, nothing.” “You didn’t—” Her voice breaks and she starts again. “You didn’t care?” “The only thing I ever cared about was you, Tempe. I kept trying to get you to talk to me, kept trying to show you that it was okay. I even gave you that mermaid necklace for your birthday, thinking it would say what I couldn’t. But you practically threw it back in my face.” At
the time, I didn’t know she was mermaid, but I did know something wasn’t right. Something was different. “I didn’t—I thought—” She’s stumbling all over herself, and it’s so cute I just want to pull her into my arms and kiss her until all her uncertainty goes away. At least until she says, “It was supposed to be a secret.” “And you didn’t trust me enough to keep it?” I’m not going to lie—that hurts. Almost as much as losing her did. Up until Kona came, I trusted her implicitly. Thought she felt the same way. “We’ve been best friends forever, Tempest. Even when we weren’t dating.” “I know, I know. It’s just . . . I could barely handle what was happening to me and I’d always known about mermaids. How could I expect you to handle it, too?” “You could have at least given me a chance.” “Maybe I would have if you hadn’t dumped me for a cheerleader.” It’s all I can do to keep my mouth from dropping open. Is she so deluded that that’s how she remembers it? “Really?” I demand. “I dumped you? You’re the one who came to me that day at my house.” “Do you not remember Chelsea? Everyone knew there was something between you.” Chelsea who? That’s what I want to say. When Tempest’s around—and even when she’s not—I don’t see any other girls. But what I end up saying is, “I did that for you.” She laughs incredulously. “Yeah, right. Because what girl doesn’t want to lose her boyfriend to the captain of the cheer squad?” Anger explodes inside me. She’s trying to blame me for what happened, when she was the one cheating on me with Kona? “You were already gone! You think I didn’t know there was someone else? You think I didn’t know that you didn’t love me anymore? She was nothing.
Window dressing. Saving face. Whatever you want to call it. I knew you felt too guilty to end things, so I helped you do it.” Anything was better than standing there, waiting for her to find the words to break my heart. “You’re not still with her?” she asks, sounding shell-shocked and as confused as I’m feeling. “I was never with her,” I tell her forcefully, determined that she believe me. “We went on a few dates, then broke up—or whatever you want to call it—a few days after you disappeared. I love you, Tempest. I’ve always loved you.” Shit. Had I really just said that? Just thrown my feelings out there so that she could trample all over them again? I’m such a moron. Such a friggin’ tool. She doesn’t say anything for a long time, and neither do I. How can I, when I just gave her my heart all over again and she can’t even look at me. Frustrated, fed up, and more than a little freaked out by own stupidity, I turn around and head back inside. If she can’t acknowledge what I said, then there’s nothing for me here. Surprisingly, she follows me. I’d come inside with some vague idea of getting as far away from her and this place as I could. But since she doesn’t seem to want to let me do that, I decide what the hell. Might as well let her rub a little more salt in the wound. There’s a vending machine in the waiting room, so to give me something to do, I head over to it. Get Tempest a Dr Pepper and myself a Coke. Then I get a pack of M&M’S. She loves the blue ones. I don’t know why I’m doing it, except that she looks like she hasn’t eaten in weeks. She’s always been skinny, but right now she looks emaciated. Weak. Like one small wave would send
her tumbling into the drink. Maybe I shouldn’t care, when I know she’s going to rip my heart out all over again, but I’ve been taking care of Tempest for a long time. Stopping now isn’t really an option. But neither is this crazy, uncomfortable silence. Any longer and I’m going to lose my mind. “So, are you going to say something?” I ask as I hand her her soda. “I don’t know what to say,” she finally answers. It’s not exactly what I was hoping for, but it’s not as bad as the I never want to talk to you again answer I was fearing. “You could start with how you feel about me.” “It’s not that easy, Mark.” “Sure it is. Either you love me or you don’t.” “That’s not true. I do love you—of course I do—but that doesn’t mean anything is going to change, or even that it can change. My life is so mixed up right now—between how crazy things are at the place I’ve been living for the past eight months and dealing with this thing with Moku—“ “I’m sorry.” For the first time since I caught sight of her outside, I remember why we’re here. Maybe Kona isn’t the only douche bag around. “I shouldn’t be pressuring you. How is Moku?” “He’s the same—and I can take the pressure. I just don’t want to make any decisions right now, because I’m afraid I won’t think them through.” She’s right. Now really isn’t the time for this, no matter how much I wish it were. “I don’t want you confusing what happened with Moku with how you feel about me. Which is why I shouldn’t even have brought this up right now. It’s just, when your dad said you’d gone for a walk, I couldn’t stop myself from looking for you.
“I told myself it was just to make sure you were okay, not because I wanted to push you into something you aren’t ready for. Yet here I am, doing just that.” I blow out a frustrated breath. “Nothing like an ex-boyfriend pledging his undying love to put a damper on the mood, huh?” “That’s not what I was saying.” “I know. I just feel like an idiot. I could have timed this better, at least waited until Moku got out of the hospital. But then . . . you’ll be gone, right? Disappearing into the sunset with Kona all over again.” “We’ll stick around for a while, make sure Moku’s doing okay.” “So, you’re definitely planning on staying with him, then.” Suddenly, the M&M’S I just bought are looking really interesting. With my heart knocking against my ribs, I tear the pack open. Fish around for a few seconds, then hand her five blue ones. “Yes.” Her answer is definitive, but the look on her face is anything but. Still, we’ve been down this road before and I never end up winning. Turning my head so she can’t see all the crap piling up inside me, I ask, “So, is he, like, a mermaid, too?” It’s a snide, stupid comment, one I’m using to buy me time to get my head back on straight, but Tempest doesn’t take offense. Instead, she answers, “They’re called mermen, but no, he isn’t. He’s a selkie.” “A selkie?” That’s the last thing I expected to hear. “You mean one of those seal things from Irish legends?” “It’s a little more complicated than that, but yeah. One of those seal things.” “They’re real?” “You’d be surprised what I’ve run into under the surface. Legends are filled with real creatures—at least the ones in the sea, anyway.”
“Huh.” If that doesn’t make my brain explode, I guess nothing will. Does this mean the Loch Ness Monster is real? Or the Kraken? Trying not to look like she’s just blown my mind, I shake a bunch of M&M’S into my palm, then toss them into my mouth. “What?” she asks. “Nothing. It’s just weird.” “Finding out some fairy tales are real?” “Being dumped for an actual animal. It’s never happened to me before.” She laughs. Which I kind of intended. But still, here I am pouring my heart out and she’s laughing. “Yeah, well,” she finally answers, “I’ve never been dumped for a cheerleader before, so I guess that makes us even.” Damn it. Telling her that Chelsea story eight months ago so I could save face was the worst idea I’ve ever had. “We already went over that. I didn’t dump you.” “Yeah, well, I didn’t actually dump you either.” “Oh yeah?” I can’t help pressing the advantage. “So does that mean we’re still together, then? I mean, if no one got dumped . . .” “Mark.” “What? I’m just asking what it means.” She shifts a little, and I can smell her hair. It smells like peaches and honey with just a hint of saltwater. Just like always. I can’t resist touching, so I reach up and brush a stray curl away from her face. “It means—” She blunders around for a little bit, and I let her. Maybe if I don’t try to rescue her she’ll actually tell me what she’s thinking. But in the end, she settles for the lame, “It means I need to go. I wanted to just try and breathe for a few minutes, and I’ve been gone almost forty-five.”
The last thread of hope I have deserts me. This is it. I’ve really lost her. “Right. Moku. That’s why you’re here, after all.” I stand up, then reach out a hand to pull her to her feet. “Sorry, Tempest.” “Don’t be stupid.” She punches me lightly on the arm. She’s trying to keep things light, but it’s too late for that. God, it hurts. Which is stupid. It’s not like I didn’t know going in how this talk was going to end. But I’d been an idiot, had let myself hope . . . I’m barely breathing by the time she says, “It’s my fault. But I can’t think, can’t breathe, when Moku’s like this. After he wakes up—” “I know. Totally my fault. Let’s get you back to the CCU.” The silence between us is awkward as I walk her back to Moku’s room. I should probably say something, but it’s taking every ounce of energy I have not to show her how upset I am. The last thing I want is to look like a total loser in front of her, even if that is how I feel. When we get back to the Critical Care Unit, Kona is standing to the side of the double doors, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his borrowed shorts. He looks totally calm, totally at peace, and I want nothing more than to shove a fist in his face. Especially when he smirks at me behind Tempest’s back. But going off on him will just make me look like a douche, something I’ve done more than enough of today. Still, it grates on me to leave her here with him when I know what a jerk he is. She may not see it, but the guy totally has another agenda. I’m not sure what it is, but I can see it. Just like I can see that he wants her—not because of who she is, but because of what she represents. It’s in the way he looks at her, like she’s an object, just another thing for him to own. It slays me. Before I can think better of it, I’m opening my damn mouth one more time. “Tempest.” When she turns to me, I continue. “I know this isn’t the right time. I know he’s over there
waiting for you, but I can’t leave until I say this.” I pause, gather my courage one more time. Then, because my throat suddenly refuses to work properly, I whisper, “In my head, you’ve always been my girl. No matter what happened between us, no matter how many times we broke up, no matter what I told myself about letting you go, I’ve never been able to think about you any other way than as the girl I love, the girl I want to be with—even if you are with him. You’re it for me, Tempest. You always have been, and I’m pretty sure you always will be. I love you.” Her eyes, swimming with tears, are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I don’t give her time to answer, not now when I’m afraid of what that answer will be. Instead, I lean forward and brush a soft kiss across her cheek. The old electricity springs up between us, and I know from her expression that she feels the tug of it as strongly as I do. I feel her eyes on me as I turn and walk away, feel the desperate need tying her in knots as surely as it’s beating at me. And I smile despite everything that’s just happened. Because while I may not know much at this point, I know this. No matter what’s happened, no matter what’s still to come, Tempest and I are a long, long way from over. For now, knowing that is more than enough.